Jack's second letter.

Dear Santa,

I have reconsidered my wish list for Christmas. I have grown up lots since last year and no longer want a T-rex or T-rex saddle. I give you permission to re-gift my gift. Please ensure that Rex goes to a loving home, or at least a good shelter. I suggest the SPCA if they have room.

Instead, I would like to have a motorbike. A bright green one. With a matching helmet and maybe even one of those padded jackets. It would also be helpful if you could send along a motorbike licence, as I don't look enough like my father yet to use his.

With regards to my former plot of world domination, I have given that up at present. However, feel free to remain the president, king, emporer, dictator, or whatever of the North Pole. I trust that you are a benevlant benevolant ruler and that the elfs elves love you.

Please say Hi to Mrs Claus for me, and maybe ask if she can enbroyer embroider my name on the back of my jacket. You can find me on your nice list, in the R section. And remember, bright green motorcycle. Not a T-rex.

Thank-you,

Jack.

The End

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