Hatchimal, oh Hatchimal, you incessantly taunt us with your ways. Every hour we beseech thee to no avail, all while questioning the insanity of your existance and why we partake in thine madness.
Hatchimal, oh Hatchimal, I hesitate to recall such seething over your kind. Not since the days of my youth, when slugfests inccured between shoppers over your ancestor...the Cabbage Patch Kid.
Yet here you are, Hatchimal, with your maniacal grin on every ad, nook and cranny reminding children everywhere how you must be had this Christmas morn.
Hatchimal, oh Hatchimal, I officially end this relentless quest. No longer can I waste days or nights in search of you. Your nonexistance has taken me to my knees and I declare defeat. My only resolve is in knowing you wouldn't last a day in our house once the intrigue of your hatching is lost on thine youth.
And for that, I must bid you adieu, oh Hatchimal, you annoying, pesky, ball of fur. Fair-the-well until next year, when I pass you by on the shelves as you sit with twenty of your friends at half price while I kick myself for devoting such an irreversible amount of energy into never finding you this Christmas.
Yes, parting is such sweet sorrow, Hatchimal, however you and I were simply not meant to be, but in our saddened farewell, might I implore of you one final request? Please, give my kindest regards to your long lost cousin, the Nintendo.