'Twas the night, 'twas the night

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the flat

Not a creature was stirring, not a bug, not a rat.

Himself in some sweatpants that had seen better days

and I still bone-weary from shopping malaise

Were snacking while sitting in front of the tree,

watching the Yule Log flicker on the TV

When outside the window there arose such a clatter

We grabbed for our Go-Bags then checked what was the matter.

In New York we've have had Go-Bags for many a year;

The office provides them in profit-centered fear

that in a crisis we'd rush home without that tiny ration

of band-aid, tinfoil blanket, power bar and Dasani hydration.

At home I'm better ready, I grew up as a Scout.

I'm Prepared for emergencies and won't be without

a bottle of cognac, a warm cashmere throw

and some Drake's Yankee Doodles, they're what I know

will get us through trouble by night or day -

those chemical cakes are indestructible

cognac's medicinal, that's ineluctable -

even though cashmere's somewhat of a cliché.

But out on the terrace – a real jaw-dropper:

a visit from Santa and his new lead reindeer Shopper!

“Where's Rudolf?” I cried, “and his nose of Bright Flame?”

“It's called Maraschino, so he stayed home in shame,”

Santa sighed, as he called to the team

Of reindeer that worked on a measly per diem.

“On Clearance, on Killer, on Twofer and Blitzen,

on Markdown, on Promo, on Goner and Sitzen!”

“But aren't you meant to be up in the sky?”

“Not so much,” replied Santa, with a tear in his eye.

“The prices were falling so early this year,

everyone bought her own gifts, which is why I am here.

The reindeer walked out in a regular snit,

So I took on these new guys who just can't commit.

I'm just riding around out of habit, I guess.”

We gave him some Doodles and some cognac no less.

And we heard him exclaim as he rose out of sight

Merry Christmas to All and To All a Good Night!