The Day After Christmas

Twas the day after Christmas
And out on the couch,
Lay this rotund creature for whom
No one would vouch.
At first glance, it seemed he was engulfed in jelly,
But we discovered that it was only his belly.
From deep in his throat came this guttural sound
The likes of which could only astound
The people who had gathered to see the sight
Of that Nicholas guy after his one-night binge.

After several loud groans, a snore, and a sneeze,
He said, “Would someone a Kleenex get me please.”
Forthwith, after giving his nose such a blow,
He took a deep breath and on us began to bestow
The tale of that incredible outing
That began the previous day with his shouting
To his herd of wild reindeers, whose names now escape us.

It seems this fellow was given a task that I think
Would drive even the sanest man to excessive drink.
“Deliver toys to all of the world,” his instructions had read.
And that message alone planted the seed
For the incredible tale, he began to detail
To the small crowd that, from this day forward, would not fail
To remember the frightening experiences of the guy called Nick.

It seems he was only looking for a part-time career
When he encountered an ad in his local newspaper
That read, “Make good money, travel far and near,
For only one night’s work, making small deliveries
To a great many people who await your arrival
So that they can begin their annual revelries.”
To this brief message, a postscript was attached,
“Large tips can be expected that are almost unmatched!”
He could not have imagined a job so wonderful
To satisfy his needs that were bountiful.

But, woe is the saga of this guy, Nick.
That clever ad was, it seems, just a trick
For the work was so arduous
The hours so long
The travel so distant
That it was not long before Nick had a stop
For what he referred to as a pop.
Yes, only one small beer
To make his head clear
And to help him steer
Those animals that were not mentioned at all
In the words of that ad
Even those words very small.

Well, after that, everything went south
Which is not a direction of latitude,
But, rather, an expression of attitude.
When Nick did encounter that first angry brat
He got into a terrible spat.
It seems that the guy who did this before,
Although not bringing what was asked for,
Had arrived very early, and departed unseen
Before that nasty kid could make such a scene
As the one who sealed the fate
Of Nick when he arrived late.
That was the beginning of the end
For the part-time deliveryman, chosen to send
Forty tons of electronic gadgets and stuff,
To these children who were really quite rough.

I will not relate all the horrible events
That brought this poor fellow to our enclosure.
Only keep my words in mind
And make full disclosure
When you hire someone for a job of this kind.
It requires a person with a stature so strong
Or the poor fellow is bound to go wrong
When encountering the likes of the new style kid
That would just as soon get rid
Of any Santa that might come along
And deliver stuff that does not suit the fancy
Of those kids, oh so, antsy.

So be of good cheer
And never fear
Unless your name happens to be Nick
And you delivered packages on December 25.

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