He got away. This time.
Santa moves pretty fast for a fat man. He escaped through the kitchen, but I winged him. He lost his hat, too.
If he hasn’t been to your house yet, better put some plastic sheeting down. Blood can be hard to get out of carpets. I hope it’ll wash off Bob, one of my favourite garden gnomes. It’ll be okay. I expect the other gnomes will lick him clean overnight.
Next year, Santa. Next year.
I’ll be waiting.
