"Dear underclass shithole we've decided to grace this year,
We like your town a lot, we like it a real FUCKING LOT. It looks like such fun over there, and we're tickled that you're harassed our email box and anooyed us with yourt insipid photography and catchy comparisons of your urban decay to our finely tuned money - extractor.
We like it all SO MUCH in fact, that we're going to send a whole parade of vicous fuckers in improbable costumes over there. They'll roll in with trailers worth more than most public works projects will ever see, dress in suits that cost more than you plebians make in a year, and double your local gross revenue in the coke we blow before we parade down your rotting excuse for a front street.
Our security people will stomp anyone who decides they love a character so much that they have to hug one, and mace and chav, oik, or cockney who decides to bitch us out for being economically empowered shitheads. In fact, we intend to taser your youth on principle. Our support staff will sigh and roll their eyes at the pitiful product you sell when they need to replenish anything as insignifigant as the bottled water, and pull attitude on everything else. We will use your little hovel, and you'll be lucky if you catch a glimpse of Pete, pluto, and goofy running a train on your prom queen before we roll out.
We're bringing some Disney to your shit, and EVERYONE will be left smiling with extreme prejudice.
PS. This is if we're feeling nice. Otherwise we give the costumes to whatever group of racid carnies we find first and setting them on your hamlet in the name of the Mouse.
Wish upon a star bitches.
-Disney"
