‘Twas the night before Christmas, and at the North Pole

Every darn reindeer had the flu – or a cold;

Santa’s sleigh was jam packed, and none too light

But with no healthy reindeer there would be no Christmas flight;

 

The reindeer were nestled all snug in their beds,

While double doses of Ny-Quil danced in their heads;

And Santa at his laptop singin’ the blues,

Prepared to email the children with his sad, sad, sad news;

 

Mrs. Claus made hot cocoa spiced with Jim Beam,

Fearing for Santa and his sick reindeer team;

When out in the snow there arose such a clatter,

Santa told his old lady to see what was the matter;

 

Away to the window she flew like a jet,

She nearly knocked over the old TV set;

The flood lights on the breast of the new-fallen snow

Gave the luster of mid-day to the objects below;

 

When, what to her wondering eyes should appear,

But eight big, beautiful bloodhounds with two-foot long ears;

Santa, she said, you’d better come quick,

These hounds can flat fly, they might do the trick;

 

In a flash the bloodhounds were hooked to the sleigh,

“Damn,” said Santa, “this is my lucky day!”

More rapid than eagles the bloodhounds they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

 

“Now, Slobber! Now, Drool!, now Big Tongue and Vixen!

On Carter! on Reagan! on, Clinton and Nixon!

To the top of the porch! To the top of the deck!

Now dash away! Dash away! Dash like all heck!”

 

So up to the housetops the bloodhounds they flew,

With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.

With their big ears spread wide, the hounds they sure flew,

In three seconds they went from zero to mach two.

 

And more than one kid heard sounds on their roofs,

But, the sounds were of paws rather than hooves;

Down each chimney Santa came with a bound,

While the roof supported the weight of eight hounds;

 

In the morning each child woke, feeling giddy as Jello,

Asking parents why the icecicles were yellow;

In less than one night Santa delivered his toys,

to all good little girls and good little boys;

 

They got dolls and trumpets and ropes to skip,

And G.I. Joes with the kung-fu death grip;

The hounds dropped Santa off at his home at the pole,

and consumed gallons of water from his big reindeer bowl;

 

Then they spread their long ears and leaped into the sky,

and as they looked down they heard Santa cry;

“The bloodhounds saved Christmas, who cares if they drool?

If not for those hounds, I would look like a fool;”

 

And away the hounds flew, to their home in the south,

where they chased raccoons and slept on the couch;

But they heard Santa exclaim as he faded from sight,

“Merry Christmas to all, and all a good-night.”