Twas The Night Before Christmas
At Ballseye's House
aka: A Visit From A Balless Prick
or: Ballseye's Happy Holiday Hopes
For Mrs. Ballseye
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was unarmed, not even the mouse.
The 45s were slung on our hips with care,
In anticipation a burglar would soon be there.
The children were nestled snug in their beds,
With dreams of .22 rifles in their heads.
Mama with her Colt, and papa shotgun on my lap
Had just snuggled close after setting our trap,
When out in the backyard there arose such a clatter
I jumped to my feet to see what was the matter.
On went the night vision goggles in an eerie green flash
I peered out the window to see a thief holding a gun and cash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Lit up this armed interloper creeping so slow.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear
But a half-track sleigh pulled by an armored John Deere,
With a heavily armed ex-cop, so lively and quick
I knew in a moment, it was my saintly neighbor Nick!
More rapid that comets his bullets they came
As he shot and shouted and called each by name
"Now, Crasher! now, Lancer! Now, Death Dancer and Vixen!
On, Stompit! on Shoot-it! on, Blunderbuss and Blitzen!
"From the bottom of his torso, to the top of his head...",
He shouted, "...we like em alive, but we'll take em dead"!
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
Twin blued 38s were brought up, just under each eye,
And rat a tat tat, his bullets they flew
With flashes of fire, they all flew true.
When outside I joined the battle, I heard on the roof
An accomplice, who till then, had remained aloof.
As I brought up my shotgun while turning around
Down the chimney the crook went with nary a bound!
He was all dressed in black from his head to his foot
His clothes blended in with the chimney soot.
A bag of my neighbor's goods, he flung off his back
Nimbly dropping his loot while under attack!
His eyes how they widened, he did not look merry,
His cheeks they were pallid, no color of cherry.
No smile on his face, no Christmas ho-ho-ho,
The mask on his face had fallen down low.
The grip of a .380 pistol he held tight in his hand,
And as he landed on hearth, of my wife he made the demand:
Drop your gun to ground, and lay flat on your belly,
Or I'll shoot you dead and turn your brains to jelly."
He was dirty and nasty, undoubtedly no right jolly old elf
So I ran inside quickly, to protect family and self.
An evil look of his eye and a turn of his head,
Then gave me to know, I had everything to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And pointed his gun at me, oh what a jerk!
And when curving his finger astride of his trigger,
My wife showed him then, whose gun was bigger.
She sprang to her feet, her Colt reporting a bang
And immediately next, I 'd swear two bells rang.
Then I heard the crook exclaim, as he hobbled out of sight,
"She's shot me in my balls on this Christmas Eve night."
Of course, I hope you all have a very Merry Christmas and a Happy Chanukkah and a Happy New Year but should your holidays be interupted by a lowlife or two hoping to help themselves at your peril, here is hoping that you wind up the winner in any such encounter.
All the best,
GB
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