|*note - any spelling errors are actually intentional.
Dear Uncle Bill and Aunt Millicent,
I’m so sorry I missed the annual Coyne family holiday party this year. I was planning to be there, but I had a bit of a problem when I went to find a gift for your son, Knut.
Here is my tael: I knew his rial desire was for this year’s hot toy, the Ngwee game system, so I decided to go to Mark’s Toys and find it for him. Feeling pence-ive, I went to the Rand McNally website to find directions, and I was on my way.
When I got to the store, the parking lot was absolutely packed. I’d been driving around for half an hour, when I finally saw a Silverado pulling out of a spot. I had to stop on a dime to grab the space. Birr, it was snowy and slushy in the parking lot, and I completely destroyed my penny loafers walking from my car to the store.
The store itself was a mob scene, and I had several people literally pound on my back in an effort to squeeze by me. One loony old krone tore out a chunk of my hair, and a little brat hit me with a baseball baht.
I looked everywhere for the Ngwee but was having no luck.
It was a few hours later wen I finally spotted one way up on the top of a shelf. I couldn’t reach it, being as short as I am, so I lepta little higher to try and grab it. I missed, of course. But on the way down, I slipped on the florin the middle of the aisle, landed on a peso candy that some two-bit kid had dropped, and went flying into the angolar shelf behind me. Everything came crashing down on top of me – but I was in luck! A Ngwee landed right in my lap! I was sitting there, feeling proud of myself, when the store manager came running over.
After he ranted and gestured rudely at me for quite a while, he tallied up the cost of all the merchandise that had broken during my crash. When he was finished chequing his math, he began to ringgit up, and the total came to precisely the amount I had in my bank account.
When I finally got out of there, it was time for dinar. I drove by McDonald's, and the cent gave me a yen for a quarter pounder and fries. But I didn’t have any money in my wallet, so I went home hungry, had francs and chips, and chased it down with a Corona.
The holidays always make me feel quite centimental. Please send money so I can lev this awful place and come home for a visit.
I’m sorry, but I think not. You pulled the same trick last year. You never change, do you? Payback stinks, but as they say . . . you can’t buck the system.
Uncle Bill and Aunt Millicent