You must be surprised that I’m writing you today, the 26th of December. Well, I would very much like to clear up certain things that have occurred since the beginning of the month. When filled with illusion, I wrote you my letter. I asked for a bicycle, an electric train set, a pair of roller blades, and a football uniform. I knew it would take a lot of effort and positive energy to deserve such gifts.
I destroyed my brain studying the whole year. Not only was I the first in my class, but I had the best grades in the whole school. I’m not going to lie to you, there was no one in my entire neighborhood that behaved better than me, towards my parents, my brothers, my friends, and with my neighbors. I would go on errands and even help the elderly cross the street. Help people put their groceries in the car at the local supermarket. I ate every vegetable that came near me, including brussel sprouts, and I did the dishes every night for 6 months. There was virtually nothing within reach that I would not do for the good of humanity. What balls do you have leaving me a fucking yo-yo, a cheap fucking whistle and a bullshit pair of polyester socks. What the fuck were you thinking, you fat son of a bitch?
You think you can take advantage of me, you’ve taken me for a sucker the whole fucking year to come out with some shit like this under the tree. As if you hadn’t fucked me enough, you gave that little faggot across the street so many toys that you can’t even walk through his fucking house.
Please don’t let me see you trying to fit your big fat ass down my chimney next year. I’ll fuck you up. I’ll slap you upside that fat white fucking head of yours and I’ll throw rocks at those stupid reindeer and scare them away so you’ll have to walk back to the fucking North Pole, just like me everyday after school in fucking blizzards since you didn’t get me that fucking bike. You’re a cocksucker. Fuck you Santa. Next year you’ll find out how bad I can be, you fat son of a bitch.
Sincerely,
Little Johnny