Demented Yultide

Okay, here's how to envision the setting of this poem. A guy is out in his front yard minding his own business when the unthinkable happens - as Santa has to go potty in between stops.


Christmas Phooey

Those weren’t snowflakes
That struck your head
As Santa’s reindeers flew overhead
The reindeers giggled at the scene below
Their target dazed by the mighty blow
“Where did it come from?
What on Earth hit me?
I came outside just to play some frisbee.
Hey, you there, Mister!
You across the street!
Did you throw me your car battery?”
The stenchy smell that clouded his senses
Was much more foul than previous offenses
Lightheaded just before he passed out
He saw one last image before he blacked out:
The pesky reindeers towing a sleigh
With tiny hooves whisking Santa away
In the night sky they looked like tiny ants
He could see St. Nick pulling up his pants.


By Naughty-I-Ain't-Getting-Nutt'n-For-Christmas-Tom

This classic was slightly altered from its original version, but the gist of the poem remains intact.