Twas the night before Christmas and all through the place,
not a creature was stirring ‘cept the children, with haste.
The stocking were hung by the chimney with care,
But the children got ‘em, it was totally bare.
The children ripped open presents and discarded the rest
only keeping what they considered the best.
While their parents feverishly wrapped their final Christmas present
hoping soon to fall into slumber, short but pleasant.
When from downstairs they heard some incessant, great fit
some kid caught fire, the little twit.
Down the stairs I shot like lightning
while the other children continued fighting
and doused, with water, the young lad,
leaving him dripping wet, and sad.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear
but a burglar, helping himself to a beer.
He gave me a wave as he pocketed my cash
and grabbed up all the presents in a dash.
Faster than a cheetah, he snatched up the toys,
leaving crying little girls and bewildered little boys.
So braving the mall, on Christmas Eve night
I’d risk life and limb, I’d scratch and I’d bite
to get the damn toys that the bratty kids want
Even if it meant a nightlong hunt.
Picking and choosing through the desiccated shelves
and pushing my way past the annoying mall elves,
I went straight to the workshop of that jolly fat man,
intent on removing everything, even his tan.
The children all cried as I knocked Santa down
and took his hat, parading with my crown.
I took all the toys, down to the very last thing,
so that this year my children would treat me as king.
But before I could run, the cops caught up with me fast
and set up a barricade I could not get past.
I tried to go around, but they Tasered me quick
and to finish me off, gave my ribs a swift kick.
And so here I sit and wait in my cell,
cursing Kris Kringle and Christmas to hell.

But surely you all realize, I wrote that in jest,
Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, I wish you the best.