Twas the night before Christmasand throughout the substation,Not a deputy stirred,they were all on vacation. The stockings were hungon the wall with great care,Next to some T-shirtsand old underwear. I was working the night shiftcompiling stats,Answering the phone,and feeding the rat. When all of a suddenthere arose such a clatter,I leapt from my deskto see what was the matter! I opened the doorwith a creak and a crick,And saw a jolly red fat manI knew must be St. Nick. I had seen his picturea time or two,He was wanted:Article 27 - Section 342. I threw open the doorand commanded him "Freeze!""Put your hands on you headand get down on your knees." But he turned and he ran,up the chimney he flew,With me in pursuit,toward Booth St. I knew. When we got to the roofSanta made for his sleigh,Throwing down toysand blocking my way. As I got to the peak,he threw down some crack,I slipped and I felllanding flat on my back. To my front I was facedwith a toy M-1 tank,And Pink Power Rangerscovering my flank. "On Dasher, on Dancer!",he cried loud and clear.Then I got off three roundsand dropped the lead deer. And I heard Santa sayas he sailed into the blue,"Merry Christmas to all!My Lawyers will sue!"
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