Wednesday, November 15, 2006

A Hardee's Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas,
And all through the store,
Not a creature was stirring,
Not even a whore.

The crew was all gone,
All snug in their beds,
While visions of Hardee's
Danced in their heads.

And Missy on vacation,
And I closing out,
Had just settled down,
To whimper and pout.

When out in lobby,
There arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my office chair,
To see what was the matter.

Away to the counter,
I flew like a flash,
Kicked Mark in the ankle,
And Cecelia in the ass.

The shine of the polish,
On the freshly waxed floor,
Gleamed like a mirror,
Or the chrome on the door.

When what to my wondering,
Eyes should appear,
But a drunken truck driver,
Who'd had too much cheer.

That little truck driver,
Was so lively and quick,
I held onto my wallet,
I knew he was slick.

He had a little red mouth,
His breath smelled like brandy,
And stuck to his chin,
Was a red piece of candy.

His droll little mouth,
Was drawn up in a bow,
And his teeth were the color,
Of dog-peed-on snow.

His eyes, how they swelled,
His stagger how merry,
His cheeks were like sand paper,
His nose like a cherry.

He had a cute hat,
With sleigh bells and red,
But his clothes were all missing,
We had something to dread.

He went straight to his order,
He ordered roast beef,
And fries and a beer,
And tea with a leaf.

Then sticking his finger,
Inside of his nose,
He farted and belched,
And bent over - we froze.

Then up on the counter,
The driver he came,
And he whistled and shouted,
And called us by name.

"Now Missy, now Janie,
Now 'Celia, and Mark,
On Lucy, on Johnny,
Why is it so dark?

To the cab of the truck,
To the last parking spot,"
Then he ran through the door,
And passed out in the lot.


This was based on an actual incident.

Just so y'know.

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