Dear Bobby,
Hey there, little tiger. We here at the Make-A-Wish Foundation were very moved by your letter and applaud your courageous battle. You certainly deserve the moon and stars. And while we would LOVE to set up a meeting with the Jonas Brothers, your wish is a little, how shall we put it . . . a little too 2006.
Man, those boys are expensive. But don't focus on that, Bobby. Focus on the positives. Have you heard of TARP? If not, look it up. Trust me, you're getting off easy. Your little friends are going to be paying off that baby 'til they're eighty.
Dear Kylie,
A trip to Hawaii? In this economy? Wow, how much morphine do they have you on? Let's talk Newark, New Jersey. Now that place is special. Makes Hawaii look like a floating bucket of crap. Throw on your best acid-washed, Greyhound's picking you up in an hour.
Howdy Stevie,
Let's see, says here you'd like to ride a miniature horse. That does sound like fun! You know what else sounds like fun? Having my retirement fund restored! Yeah, that would be awesome. Unfortunately that doesn't look like it's going to ever happen.
Look, best we can do is a once-around on a Great Dane at the pound. Has to be this weekend though. He's set to be put down next Tuesday.
Happy trails, cowpoke!
Hiya Ruth!
First, let me say that our hearts go out to you, little brave one. You deserve the wish of your dreams.
And that's why we think you're way off on this Alaskan cruise idea. We've been on cruises before. Let me tell you, waaaay overrated. The crowds, the cheesy "entertainment," the ridiculously strict $5000 line of credit limit at the casino. Who needs all that drama? And don't even get us started on Legionnaire's disease. Rampant.
We're sending you a few bags of ice and a ViewMaster. Just keep the ice about the head and shoulder region while clicking through the reel of Artic glaciers. So much better than the real thing, we promise.
Hi Billy!
Do you like fairy tales, Billy? We've got a very special one for you. Once upon a time there was a powerful wizard named Madoff. And oh the magical things he could make come true. Singing flowers, unicorns, a guaranteed 10% annual return on low-risk security investments. All the little people of Foundationville loved the wise and kind Madoff. But one day, Madoff's magic suddenly changed. The dazzling wizard turned out not to be the kindly wish giver of enchanted annual reports. No, our beloved Madoff was actually a cancerous, soul-sucking, demon wish-crusher. Those glimmering PowerPoint demonstrations as fake as the smile on his fat little face. The moral of this tale? Well, Billy, the moral should be quite clear. If you're going to "make a wish," use it wisely. Use it to wish that son-of-a-bitch Madoff a long, hot acid shower with a razor blade loofah.
That's it, Billy. Wish it. Wish it, real, real hard.
Dear Meg,
Your Make-A-Wish letter moved us to tears.
Denied.
Dear Hailey,
We received your request for a Wii. While we agree that this might fulfill certain immediate gratification needs, we think it only proper to point out that times have changed. Maybe no one let you in on that little secret when you awoke from your coma, but a revolution is occurring. Yes we can, Hailey! No longer are we beholden to the money-grubbing capitalist whores and their disgusting appetites for endless amounts of consumer crap, their putrid materialism finally condemned for the sickness that it really is.
Rainbows, that's what good girls wish for today. Good ol', cost-free rainbows.