"Thank you Letters for the 12 days of Christmas Gifts'
14th December
My dearest darling John,
I went to the front door today and the Postman delivered a partridge in a pear tree. What a delightfully romantic gift. Thank you my darling for the wonderful thought.
With deep love and affection always,
Your ever loving, Agnes
15th December
My dearest John,
Today the postman brought your very sweet gift – two turtle doves!! I am delighted. They are adorable.
All my love,
Your ever loving, Agnes
16th December
Dearest John,
Oh! How extravagant you are. I really must protest. I don't deserve such generosity. Three French hens! I insist you are too kind.
Your loving, Agnes
17th December
Dear John,
What can I say? Four beautiful calling birds arrived with the postman this morning. Your kindness is really too much.
Love, Agnes
18th December
My dearest John,
What a surprise. Today the postman delivered five gold rings – one for each finger. You really are an impossible boy – but I love you! Frankly all those birds that you sent are beginning to squawk a bit and get on my nerves.
Your ever loving, Agnes
19th December
Dear John,
When I opened the door this morning, there were six bloody great geese laying eggs all over the front step. So we are back to the birds again are we? Where on earth do you think I can keep them all? The neighbours are beginning to smell them and I can’t sleep at
night. Please stop.
Cordially yours - Agnes.
20th December
John,
What is it with you and these sodding birds? Now I get seven swans a swimming. Is that some sort of a goddamned joke or what? The house is full of bird sh*t and the racket! I'm beginning to become a nervous wreck. So, it’s not funny anymore. Stop sending the
bl**dy birds!!
Yours, Agnes.
21st December
O.K. Buster,
I think I prefer the birds. What the hell am I going to do with eight maids a milking? It’s not enough with all these birds. Now I have eight cows sh*tting all over the house and mooing all night.
Lay off, smart a**se, Agnes.
22nd December
Look Sh*t head,
What are you, some kind of nut? Now I've got nine pipers playing and Christ – do they play!!? When they aren't blowing on the sodding pipes, they are chasing the maids through
the cow sh*t. The cows keep mooing and treading all over the blo**dy birds and
the neighbours are threatening to have me evicted.
You'll get yours, Agnes.
23rd December
YOU ROTTEN B*AST**D,
Now I've got ten ladies dancing! How on earth anyone can call these “whores”, ladies, is beyond me. They're b*lling the pipers all night long. The cows can't sleep and
have diarrhea, my living room is a river of sh*t and the landlords have just
declared the building unfit for habitation.
P*ss off, Agnes.
24th December
Listen F**kh**d,
What with eleven lords a leaping all over the maids and me, we shall never walk again. The pipers are fighting the lords for the crumpet and are committing S*d*my with the cows. All the birds are dead and rotting among the cow sh*t, having been trampled underfoot in the orgy but not before they had swallowed my gold rings. I hope you are satisfied,
you rotten vicious sh*t house.
Your sworn enemy, Agnes.
25th December
You STINKING LOUSY SH*T,
Twelve drummers drumming have turned up and what with the pipers are making one hell of a bl**dy racket. Both lots have been getting at the lords as well as the cows – and goodness knows what’s happened to the milkmaids. They've probably drowned in the
cow sh*t by now. The only way I've saved myself from getting scr*w*d to death is by hiding up that sodding pear tree, which has been so well fertilised that it’s grown through the roof.
I send you Seasonal Greetings, Bollocks to You. Agnes.