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that LITTLE SHIT
The only thing Dave’s asked for this year is a visit from his little Pesterchum friend, and you can’t really fight his logic - there’s two weeks of Christmas vacation coming up, they’ve been friends for years and never met face-to-face, he’s used his internet comic money to purchase an air mattress. His arguments are flawless, presented in an ironic letter to Santa that you found magnet-ed to the fridge. You don’t say anything, you just put the letter in an envelope addressed to the North Pole and make the kid bring it to the post office. The two of you never speak of it again. Christmas comes and he unwraps a circuit-bent Teddy Ruxpin and a hula-hoop. Not a blink. He hides his disappointment well. This is going to be so fucking great.
EB: with you cheering for us, we’re gonna be just fine!
pretty pretty pretty
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