I have been a good boy.
It really wasn't my fault what happened at Jonathan's Christmas party. It was Nate who spiked the punch with too much screwdriver. I can't help it if I drank 32 glasses. It was so good---smelled and tasted just like applesauce.
I thought it was funny when I put Jessie's underwear on my head and danced the tootsie pop on the chair while singing `I Love This Bar'. I didn't mean to break Jonathan's vibrator and don't know why Jonathan would sue me for grand larceny.
I don't remember calling Patrick's wife a fabulous cow---even though she looked like one with purple eye shadow and yellow lipstick!
And when I threw up on Zoe's husband's big toe, it was only because I ate too much of that hamburger.
After all that fun, I admit I was a little tired. So I fell asleep on my way home and drove my F-150 through my neighbor's bathroom. I don't think that was any reason for my neighbor to call me a lousy spider and have me arrested for theft my receiving!
So, Santa...here I sit in my jail cell on Christmas Eve, all exciting and enourmous. And I'm really not to blame for any of this excellent stuff. Please bring me what I want the most---bail money!
Sincerely and lovely yours,
Fletch (Really a nice boy!)
P.S. It's only 31526 bucks!