<title>Weekly Whack: Twas the Night Before Christmas</title> <font size=6><b><i>Twas the Night Before Christmas</b></i></font> <br><br> Twas the night before Christmas when all through Feff World;<br> Not a creature was stirring, except for Feff's dog who drank too much pineapple soda and hurled.<br> The stockings were all hung by the chimney with care;<br> While Feff was at the racetrack, betting his savings on a mare.<br> The children were nestled, all safe in their beds;<br> Thanks to Joe McCarthy, who got rid of all the Reds.<br> And Mom in her kerchief, and I in my cap;<br> Made plans for the revolution on the large South American map.<br> When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter;<br> Like if Martina Navratilova was playing the drums, on her Wimbledon championship platter.<br> Away to the window, I flew like a flash;<br> Trying hard not to scratch my venereal rash.<br> The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow;<br> Looked so nice I wrote a song about it on my banjo.<br> When what to my wondering eyes should appear;<br> But a '74 Chevy Nova, with a shiny veneer.<br> With a little old driver, so lively and quick;<br> I knew at a moment, he was a damn lunatic.<br> More rapid than a eagle, his Nova, it came;<br> As he shouted out random presidents, calling them by name.<br> Now Franklin, now Thomas, now Abraham, now John;<br> On Woodrow, on Harry, on Lyndon, and Ron.<br> To the top of the porch, to the top of the wall;<br> This guy used my bushes as his personal bathroom stall.<br> As dry leaves before the wild hurricane fly;<br> If he wasn't crazy, he surely was high.<br> So up to the housetop, the Nova, it flew;<br> With a trunk full of bootleg Yanni c.d.'s, and that mental patient too.<br> And then in a twinkling I heard on the roof;<br> The guy open a bottle of something ninety proof.<br> As I drew in my head, and was turning around;<br> He fell through my ceiling, landing hard on the ground.<br> He was dressed all in fur from his head to his foot;<br> My priceless Frabrage egg, he used as a shot put.<br> A bundle of my silverware, he flung on his back;<br> Just my luck, he's a kleptomaniac.<br> His eyes how they twinkled, his dimples how merry;<br> As he stole my souvenir basketball, autographed by Cleveland Cavalier Danny Ferry.<br> His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow;<br> My Monet should look good hanging somewhere in the ghetto.<br> The stump of his pipe, he held tight in his teeth;<br> Why is he nailing my cat to the door like a wreath?<br> He had a broad face, and a round little belly;<br> And for the love of God was his breath ever smelly.<br> He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf;<br> Must have been tough trying to carry my T.V. all by himself.<br> A wink of his eye and a twist of his head;<br> He has no religion, no God like my Ed.<br> He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work;<br> Looting my house, he was such a jerk.<br> And laying a finger along side his nose;<br> His job was done, so up the hole in my roof he rose.<br> He sprang to his Nova, songs from Porgy and Bess he would whistle;<br> And away he flew, like the down of a thistle.<br> But I heard him exclaim, as he sputtered out of sight;<br> Happy Christmas to all, especially, star of Too Close For Comfort, the late Ted Knight.<br> <br> <p><i>Merry Christmas to all of you, from all of us here at Feff World.</i></p>