penciled by William Halterman
I am writing you to let you know we’ve reached the front lines, the mood here is…bleak.
This unjust war we must fight has taken its toll on the men. Word is, the battalion that arrived just prior to us has gone missing. It was a mission to retake Walmart and Target from the villainous atheists and…people were wishing them “Happy Holidays” instead of “Merry Christmas”. They never stood a chance.
We are blockaded up inside a Chic-Fil-A, the rations should last us until mid-April, until the next resupply in time for Easter. It must. We can see Starbucks from our position, they have now begun giving out green cups along with their godless red cups. They seem to have an endless supply of heathens, some of which visit more than once a day.
I pray every day until I can see your face again, Petro. This war…The War on Christmas…I must fight it. It is my calling.
I’ll write you as much as I can.
Yours, forever and truly,