'Twas the night before Festivus, when all through the Rat Pad
Not a creature was stirring, not even a Chad;
The Asshats were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that the hookers soon would be there;
The Brewcasters were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Brew Sculptures danced in their heads;
And Shat in his 'kerchief, and J in his cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast like HotRod's Avitar
Gave the lustre of Gold Medals seen from afar,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a giant scooter, and the dogs cowering in fear,
With a big harry silhouette, crashed in a ditch,
I knew in a moment it must be Crazy Bitch.
It sprang to it’s scooter, to Shat it gave a whistle,
And away it rode like the down of a thistle.
But I heard it exclaim, as it rode out of view,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all…. I love you."
