EMISSIONS: Kilian Doyle blows a gasket
Dear Santa,
I hope you and Mrs Santa and all the elves are well and not too hassled about Christmas. I've been very good this year. You'd be very proud of me. Some bold boys tried to get me in trouble, saying I'd been off smoking and drinking, but they're just jealous 'cos I got a new bigshot job, with a new office and loads of people to order around. It's much better than that other one where I had to nag people all day and get moaned at by Bertie when they didn't do what he wanted.
Listen, Santy. Don't believe Bertie when he tells you he's been good. He's probably got someone else to write his letter anyway. And don't give him any toys, he's already got loads of stuff. His mate Charlie Mac is always taking our dinner money and buying things for him. You should give Charlie a lump of coal. Actually, don't - he'd probably just sell it.
My new office is deadly. There was a bit of a yucky smell of old lady at first, but that's long gone now. There were footprints on the desk too. I reckon the person who was there before had their feet up a lot.
I've made a huge big playroom out of one of the empty rooms in my building. It said "Dublin Metro System" on the door, but it was completely empty. Looks like nobody had ever gone in. Anyway, I've set up my train set and car racing track on a big table. I've even built a big tunnel for the trains to go through, and they come out the other end of the office where I've put all the model planes. There's a few other bits of tracks around, but I haven't got enough for a full set. I just have to pretend for the moment.
I've got loads of little plastic people that I put on the trains. Sometimes I shove them all in at the same time for the laugh. It's funny seeing all their squidgy faces up against the glass. I put them on the platform sometimes and whizz the empty trains past them too. I like putting them beside the racetrack so I can zoom buses past and pour water on them at the same time. I know it's a bit mean, but it's not real, is it?
The lady who does all the real work asked me the other day why I put nearly everything over on one side of the room. I hadn't noticed, but she said I was ignoring the rest of the people in the other corners, and they'd get annoyed. She's mental! They're not even real people over there. I dunno why she got in such a huff. I think she's from Leitrim or Cavan or somewhere mad like that where they all drive around in tractors. But then I remembered that she makes my tea, so I chucked a few broken old cars and bits of bendy track around the room to keep her happy.
All the people who used to ask me horrible questions before are being nice and writing nice things about me. I think it's because I promised them I'd do loads of cool stuff next year and even let everyone have a go of the train set.
But then Charlie Mac told me off, and took my toys off me. He said I won't get them back for years because the tiger had run off with them. I said there's no tigers in Ireland, but he just shook his head and walked off, muttering something about paying me back in tacks.
So that's where you come in, Santa. I really, really need loads of new trains and carriages and buses and tracks and roads and other stuff so all the people I promised could play with them will still be my friends. Otherwise me and Bertie and Charlie will have to go off and get real jobs.
Lots of love,
Seamus