All I Want For Christmas

Dear Santa,

I can’t breathe in here. The woman who put me in here made me eat glue and keeps calling me her “Precious.” The dog she stuck in here is freaking me out too. He’s not even real. Well he was once, I suppose. He’s stuffed, and he smells like formaldehyde and wet wool. I’m pretty sure she stuffed him with a cat.

I’m not happy Santa. These wings are sticking right onto the skin of my back and you know crafters, they’re all about hot glue.

Santa, hurry. This glittery pipe cleaner is breaking my pelvis.

Love,

Julie