Twas the night before Christmas and throughout the substation, Not a deputy stirred, they were all on vacation.
The stockings were hung on the wall with great care, Next to some T-shirts and old underwear.
I was working the night shift compiling stats, Answering the phone, and feeding the rat. When all of a sudden there arose such a clatter, I leapt from my desk to see what was the matter! I opened the door with a creak and a crick, And saw a jolly red fat man I knew must be St. Nick.
I had seen his picture a time or two, He was wanted: Article 27 – Section 342.
I threw open the door and commanded him “Freeze!” “Put your hands on you head and get down on your knees.
” But he turned and he ran, up the chimney he flew, with me in pursuit, toward Booth St. I knew. When we got to the roof Santa made for his sleigh, Throwing down toys and blocking my way.
As I got to the peak, he threw down some crack, I slipped and I fell landing flat on my back.
To my front I was faced with a toy M-1 tank, And Pink Power Rangers covering my flank.
“On Dasher, on Dancer!”, he cried loud and clear. Then I got off three rounds and just missed the lead deer.
And I heard Santa say as he sailed into the blue, “Merry Christmas to all! My Lawyers will sue!”