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Dear Santa,
I have been a good Girl.
It really wasn't my fault what happened at Marc's Christmas party. It was Sandra who spiked the punch with too much Sambuca. I can't help it if I drank 20 glasses. It was so good---smelled and tasted just like baking bread.
I thought it was funny when I put Chris's coat on my head and danced the waltz on the chair while singing `Happy Birthday'. I didn't mean to break Marc's stereo and don't know why Marc would sue me for mugging.
I don't remember calling John's wife a hot cow---even though she looked like one with red eye shadow and black lipstick!
And when I threw up on Mandy's husband's belly, it was only because I ate too much of that pizza.
After all that fun, I admit I was a little tired. So I fell asleep on my way home and drove my bus through my neighbor's bedroom. I don't think that was any reason for my neighbor to call me a fun cat and have me arrested for mail fraud!
So, Santa...here I sit in my jail cell on Christmas Eve, all bad and good. And I'm really not to blame for any of this big stuff. Please bring me what I want the most---bail money!
Sincerely and quickly yours,
Sarah (Really a nice Girl!)
P.S. It's only 26 bucks!
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