'Twas the night before Christmas and one thing was clear--
That old Yuletide spirit no longer was here;
Inflation was rising; the crime rate was tripling,
The fuel bills were up, and our mortgage was crippling.
I opened a beer, as I watched TV,
Where Donny sang "O Holy Night" to Marie;
the kids were in bed, getting sleep like they should,
Or else they were stoned, which almost was as good.
While Ma, with her ballpoint, was making a fuss,
'Bout folks we'd send cards to, who'd sent none to us;
"Those ingrates," she thundered, "and pounded her first,
Next year, you can bet they'll be crossed off our list!"
When out in the yard came a deafening blare,
'Twas our burglar alarm, and I hollered, "Who's there?"
I turned on the searchlight, which lit up the night,
And, armed with my handgun, beheld a strange sight.
Some red-suited clown, with a white beard immense,
Was caught in our eight-foot electrified fence;
He called out, "I'm Santa! I bring you no malice!"
Said I, "If you're Santa, I'm Telly Savalas!"
But, lo, as his presence grew clear to me,
I saw in the glare that it just might be he;
Called off our Doberman clawing his sleigh,
And, frisking him twice, said, "I think he's OK."
I led him inside, where he slumped in a chair,
And he poured out the following tale of despair;
"On Christmas eves past, I was jolly and chuckling,
But now, 'neath the pressures, I fear I'm buckling."
"You'll note I've arrived with no reindeer this year,
And without them, my sleigh is much harder to steer;
Although I would like to continue to use them,
The wildlife officials believe I abuse them."
To add to my problem, Ralph Nader dropped by,
And told me my sleigh was unsafe in the sky;
I now must wear seatbelts, despite my objections,
And bring in the sleigh twice a year for inspections.
Last April, my workers came forth with demands,
And I soon had a general strike on my hands;
I couldn't afford to pay unionized elves,
So the missus and I did the work ourselves.
And then, later on, came additional trouble--
An avalanche left my fine workshop in rubble;
My Allstate insurance was worthless, because
They had shrewdly slipped in a "no avalanche" clause.
And after that came an IRS audit,
The government claimed I was out to defraud it;
They finally nailed me for 65 grand,
Which I paid through the sale of my house and my land.
And yet I persist, though it gives me a scare,
Flying blind through the blanket of smog in the air;
Not to mention the hunters who fill me with dread,
Taking shots at my sleigh as I pass overhead.
My torn-up red suit and these bruises and swellings,
I got fighting muggers in multiple dwellings;
And if you should ask why I'm glowing tonight,
It's from flying too close to a nuclear site.
He rose from his chair, and he heaved a great sigh,
And I couldn't help but notice a tear in his eye;
"I've tried," he declared, "to reverse each defeat,
But I fear that today, I've become obsolete."
He slumped out the door and returned to his sleigh,
And these last words he spoke as he went on his way;
"No longer can I do the job that's required,
If anyone asks, just say Santa's retired."
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