Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even Gabe Klaus.
The stockings were hung by the TV with care,
In hopes that some Bakugan soon would be there.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Pokemons danced in their heads.
And Mom downing martinis, and I drunk on beer,
Had just pickled our brains to fake some Christmas cheer.
When out of my butt there arose such a clatter,
The force from my fart had made my ass cheeks wetter.
Away to the window as fast as I could think,
Tore open the shutters and fanned out the stink.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Reminded me of stuff I found between my toes.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a broken down sleigh, and eight abused reindeer.
With a fat-assed old driver, whose stench made me sick,
I said to myself, "Who the hell is this prick?"
More nasty than pit bulls his coursers they came,
And he grumbled, and cursed, and called them bad names!
"Now shithead! now, dumbass! now, fuckface and hose-bag!
On, ballsack! On, stupid! on, on dumdum and cunt-rag!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now get yer lazy asses movin' before I roast you all!"
He dry heaved, then coughed up and spit out some mucous,
He adjusted himself and then kicked some deer tuchus.
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys, and that weird drunk guy too.