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‘Twas the night before Christmas
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the place not a person was stirring, it was quite a disgrace.
The stockings were hung by the Prevost with care, in hopes Tom and Jon would not show up bare.
The members were nestled some drinking from kegs, as visions of dues increases danced in their heads. While some in the kitchen were cooking a roast others were dreaming of a driverless coach.
When outside the bus there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my bed concerned about my bladder. Away to the window I limped like a senior, tore my pajamas, but maintained my demeanor.
With me as a driver, so lively and quick, I see merging drivers and they make me sick. I think of my plans all Rose petals and honey but I’m going to see Jeff and he’ll take all my money
He spoke not a word, just went straight to his work, fixed an airbag and gave me a smirk. While working away he started to sing, with his Cheshire like smile always meaning Ka-ching.
He sprang to his truck but that was no treat, he’d forgotten a wrench he’d left on the seat. With a high alto voice I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight,
“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”
Harry
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