(By Coppertop. My Apologies to Clement Clarke Moore.)
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
not A creature was stirring - except for the spouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
but under the tree, it was painfully bare.
As I drove store to store, in my ratty old Ford,
At home lay my wife - loudly she snored;
One "Closed" sign after another, my panic was growing
Until off in the distance, I saw a neon light glowing
My heart skipped a beat as I sped through a red light
I was overjoyed - I might make it through this night
In a single swift motion, I parked and ran to the store
Only to be met b