Mister Honda, I hope your Holiday Season is filled with a full tank of gas in your Honda, enough egg nog and peach brandy for an Army, so much currency you have to bury most in the back yard, mermaids from Marineland, Florida tossin' one of them beach balls around in your inside,heated pool, with half the girls shouting " Mister, " with the other half responding with, " Honda, " I hope your ex wife called and informed she had hit the Illinois Lotto and was sending you one million dollars for all the bullshat she caused in the '70s, and last but not least , Mister Honda, and I'm serious as a Nolan Ryan fastball, I hope your local Hooters' girls are all gathered up in your Charlotte townhouse as they cat fight among each other, trying to woo your attention and a cut from the gold mine you recently acquired in a remote location in Africa, as you sit and drink brandy and eat grapes.
P.S. Grimsley by thirteen.