Some losers only want their two front teeth for Christmas.
Those losers plainly don’t see the advantages of wanting a hippopotamus for Christmas.
I know, and Gayla knows, that the choice between watning two dumb front teeth and wanting a living murder-machine with a head full of raw power and teeth is an easy one to make. There’s a reason why she only likes hippopotamussesses and hippopotamuses like her too.
You don’t need front teeth when you can turn loose upon your enemies the UNBRIDLED FURY OF A CHRISTMAS WAR HIPPO. Make the right choice and you will be invincible, mounted atop your most noble and hungry steed. You will behold the panicked flight of your pathetic and cowardly enemies, mewling scum that they are. You will barely discern the anguished cries of lament from their loved ones over the din and cacophony that is your eternal rampage. Your joyful howls and shouts of triumph will whistle through the hole where your two front teeth would have been if you’d made the wrong choice. You and your new best friend will claim ultimate victory.
Give me a hippo any fucking day of the year, really, but especially at Christmas god damnit.
(Song recommendation by Kevin D. Woodall)