Dear Santa Claus!
It is probably not your usual practice to receive letters on this day, the second of January, but I would like to clarify any disagreement that has arisen between us.
At the beginning of last month, I wrote you a letter asking you for a bicycle, an electric railway, a pair of roller skates and a footballer uniform. I studied like crazy all year round, I had the best grades not only in the classroom, but also in the whole school.
Honor, no one behaves as well as I do with parents, brothers and friends. I kept running to the store and even twice helped my old man cross the street. There is no good work left that I would not have done.
And what horseradish after you brought me this debut cup, an idiotic whistle, and a pair of those disgusting, scary socks? What have you ever thought of yourself, badger, making me behave like this all year round, and leaving all this pile of manure under the Christmas tree? And how, mockingly, did you bring a pile of so-so-so-gift presents to the idiot who lives in the house of the neighbors that he couldn’t even walk in the door with them all?
So I never thought of putting my fat, stinky ass next to the window next year! I’ll fuck you right there on the spot, I’ll stone your dead deer so they’ll run away from you and you’ll have to walk back to your unprepared North Pole, just like me, because you didn’t give me that damn bike!
Come on, Santa! This year you will really learn how bad I can be, you fat, greasy, stinky deer fucker!