It's me again, Jack. Remember me from last year? I wrote you a letter for each of the twelve days of Christmas, everyday. I wanted a real T-rex, remember? A green one with yellow eyes and sharp claws and big teeth and a feroshus ferocious roar. I am assuming you still have it 'cause it never made it under my tree last year. Instead there was a board game, a few books, and I can't remember what else.
Anyways, I am writing to you now 'cause I still want that T-rex. He is rightfully mine, of course, and I feel that you are with-holding him from me unlawfully. My advisers have thus advised me to write to you starting now, rather then later.
In addition to my T-rex, which is technically my present from last year, I would like a T-rex saddle. I have been unable to locate one at Toys-R-Us nor in the Sears catalog, though I have been unsuccessful finding a T-rex in those places, either. As such, you are the only person in the world who can give me a T-rex. And T-rex saddle. I need both for world dominashun domination.
If you help me in attaining world domination, I will allow the North Pole to become a soverin sovereign entity, and you can be the president or king or emperor or dictator. I'm not concerned with the title, only with my T-rex and T-rex saddle.
Be assured that I will be sending more letters detailing the terms of my T-rex's return as well as the promt prompt delivery of my T-rex saddle.