Three Nights Before Christmas, It Was

Jolly Old St. Hickolas made a trial run tonight.

'Twas three nights before Christmas, and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a bathroom vent fan light fixture mouse.
No stockings were hung on the chimney in there
For St. Hickolas would eat all the goodies--not fair!

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
Lazy little bums, texts and computer games filling their heads.
And me in my Crocs, spilled Chex lining my lap
Wishing I dared drink a tall winter's nightcap.

Then down in the basement there arose such a clatter
I jumped up from the La-Z-Boy to see what was the matter.
Away to the rail, I flew like a flash
Saw St. Hick's belt give his stomach an industrial-sized smash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Heh, heh, I said "breast" that's inappropriate, you know.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear...
I don't know--with these bifocals, my vision ain't clear.

Oh! A chunky old goat, not lively, not quick.
I knew in an instant it must be St. Hick.
He had no deer with him, around here they're called, "game."
And he burped and he farted and thought that not lame.

"Now Genius, now Pony, now Val, you darn vixen!
To drive into town now is what to do I am fixin'."
St. Hick made no sense, his language bluff we did call.
"Dang this darn syntax, to Not-Heaven dang it all!"

He was draped in red velvet, social-acceptability be darned!
Got a puffy coat in the temp drops, so please be forewarned.
A bundle of toys he flung on his back
Bought sight-unseen at the auction, in a peddler's pack.

He was chubby and plump, a bit like myself
And I laughed when I saw him, that overgrown elf!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Made him twitchy and deformed, "Cut that out now!" I said.

He spoke not a word, but got down on one knee.
Posing, I guess, for a picture, heehee.
And laying a finger aside of his nose,
Sucking in his gut...up the chimney he rose.

He sprang to his Gator on $980 feet, like a missile
Rolled away with no sound, ruminating on gristle.
But I heard him exclaim, as he drive out of sight,
"Too much Auction Meat, I think...this belt is too tight!"