Metstradamus's letter to Santa

At Metstradamus, he writes a pretty funny story about his wish for a lefty ace:

Dear Santa,

When you drop by the house on December 25th, please drop off a lefthanded ace. Preferably the one from Oakland.

Milk and cookies are on the counter top,

Metstradamus

So December 25th comes and goes, no Santa.

Finally today, at about noon today, I hear a faint noise at the door. Not a knock, more like somebody trying to pick the lock. So I open the door (baseball bat in hand)...and wouldn't you know it, it's Santa Claus!

"Ooh ooh Santa! You're finally here! Where's that pitcher I asked for" I exclaim.

Santa proceeded to kick me square in the #*!$.

Then he said that he had to relieve himself. And he did...all over the couch.

I tried to introduce Santa to my cat...and he kicked her.

He slapped my wife.He broke my phone.

He ate my meat loaf, then threw up on my television.

He threw my Christmas tree out the window.

Then Santa handed me a note...

Metstradamus,

You can't have your pitcher because you've been a bad Mets fan.

-Mr. Scott Boras

With that, Santa let loose a 10 second belch which reeked of bourbon and vomit and he was on his way.