Dear fat man with the gift-filled sack, please come and take these toys back. please come with haste and don’t delay and take these curs’d things away. I wrote to you at 3am. I’d stubbed my toe and dropped my pen. I sent my letter straight to Santa, but addressed it to ‘My good friend Satan’ the army men, they war all night I cannot sleep for all their cries. The rocking horse, my hand, it bit and in my room it often …. sits. The dinosaurs control the floor and hunt the teddies more and more The bike you got I loved the most is haunted by a Viking ghost So, Satan, Santa, what’s-yer-name, come get these things —— I’ve gone insane.