Dear Santa,
I have been a good boy.
It really wasn't my fault what happened at Jenny's Christmas party. It was Rachel who spiked the punch with too much screech. I can't help it if I drank 5 glasses. It was so good---smelled and tasted just like vanilla.
I thought it was funny when I put kathleen's bra on my head and danced the twist on the footstool while singing `More than this'. I didn't mean to break Jenny's computer and don't know why Jenny would sue me for murder.
I don't remember calling Stan's wife a bloated pig---even though she looked like one with yellow eye shadow and red lipstick!
And when I threw up on Kim's husband's ear, it was only because I ate too much of that pasta.
After all that fun, I admit I was a little tired. So I fell asleep on my way home and drove my jeep through my neighbor's foyer. I don't think that was any reason for my neighbor to call me a loopy wombat and have me arrested for rape!
So, Santa...here I sit in my jail cell on Christmas Eve, all scrawny and sweaty. And I'm really not to blame for any of this hot stuff. Please bring me what I want the most---bail money!
Sincerely and morbidly yours,
Lucifer (Really a nice boy!)
P.S. It's only 45 bucks!
__________________
I am a brother to dragons, and a companion to owls.
- Job 30:29
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