As Posted by SBJohnston

TwasX-Day2.jok

Subject: Twas the Night Before X-Day
From: sbjohnston@aol.com
Date: 1996/12/21

Newsgroups: alt.slack

The Night Before X-Day
by The Reverend Doktor S-bo

'Twas the night before X-Day when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

The argyles were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that "Bob" Dobbs soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Slack danced in their heads,

And Mamma in her jammies and I in her muff
Had just settled down for some fun in the buff.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The radiation-glow from the new-fallen dust
was such a terrible sight it dampened my lust.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a gigantic flying auto, eight cylinders, high gear;

With a square-jawed, young driver, intent on his job,
I knew in a moment it must be ole "Bob"!

On the seat next to him sat his eager young dame,
And he whistled at her, and called her by name.

Now, Connie, you Vixen! you Prancer! you Dancer!
Oh, let me go, Cupid, you'll make me go crash 'er.

From the top of the porch, and right through the wall,
"Bob"'s car smashed away, smashed away, smashed away all!

In the process of landing, my house he did wreck,
Said "Bob", " Sorry 'bout that, I'll write you a check."

From next door came a bellow "Keep that junk off my lawn!"
"Shut up, Pink Boy," answered "Bob", "you Conspiracy pawn."

And then in a twinkle, I heard on the roof
the prancing of wingtips: 'twas "Bob" on the hoof.

As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down came Dobbs with a jump, and a bound.

He was dressed nattily, from his head to his foot,
But his clothes were covered with ashes and soot;

His eyes how they twinkled! his brows how they arched!,
His cheekbones so prominent, his shirt likely starched.

His droll grinning mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the widow's-peak on his forehead was coiffed ah, just so.

The proudest of pipes he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath.

A wink of his eye, and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

He pawed at some paper he'd pulled from his flaps,
And held them up high, like a gambler at craps.

He passed me the tickets: "Saucers, First Class".
Oh, joy, thought I, it's the Rupture, at last!

And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up to his auto he rose.

He sprang to his machine, to his wife gave a whistle,
And away they both flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight,
"Repent, and Slack off; till tomorrow, good night!"

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Steve The Reverend Doktor S-bo sbjohnston@aol.com
The kindly bi-valve.
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