'Twas the Night Before Christmas at the Biden White House

“And Corn Pop was a really bad dude…”

'Twas the Night Before Christmas at the Biden White House

‘Twas the night before Christmas at the Biden White House,

Not a creature was stirring ‘cept Hunter, that louse.

His crack pipes were scattered ‘cross the floor without care,

He was dancing to One Direction in his plaid underwear.

Old Joe was nestled all snug in his bed,

With visions of Tapioca pudding dancing ‘round in his head.

While Jill in her ‘kerchief and Champ in his cap

Were snuggling in for a long winter’s nap.

While on the East lawn there arose such a clatter,

Old Joe groaned from his bed to see what’s the matter!

Away to his window he moved in a shuffle,

Tore open the curtains to view the kerfuffle.

When what to his wondering eyes should appear,

But a miniature EV and eight rapid charging gear,

With a little old driver with a tousled gray mop,

He knew in a minute it must be Corn Pop!

More rapid than eagles his chargers they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

"Now, Lightning! now, Elon! now, Nikola and Vixen!

On, Comet! on, Booster! on, Shocker and Blitzen!

To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!

Now charge away! charge away! charge away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;

So up to the house-top the chargers they flew,

But they ran out of juice and dropped into the dew.

But then, in a twinkling, Joe heard at the gate

The revving and rumbling of a turbo-charged Dodge 454 hemi V-8!

As he drew in his head, and was shuffling around,

Down the chimney Corn Pop came with a bound.

He was dressed all in leather, from his head to his foot,

And his gold chains were tarnished with ashes and soot;

A bundle of crack he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a dealer just opening his pack.

His eyes—how they threatened! his manner so rude!

His fists were like hammers, he was one really bad dude!

His droll little mouth was drawn up in a sneer,

And the stubble of his chin was as sharp as a spear.

The stump of a crack pipe he held tight in his teeth,

And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.

He had a slim face and a little round belly,

That shook when he shouted, like a bowlful of jelly.

He’d gone chubby and plump since Joe banned him from the pool;

But Joe cringed when he saw him - his mama didn’t raise her a fool.

But a wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

Soon gave Joe to know he had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

And filled Hunter’s stocking; then turned with a jerk.

And laying his finger aside of his nose,

And drawing a snort, up the chimney he rose.

He sprang into the Dodge, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all drove like a Peacekeeper missile.

But Joe heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,

"Happy Christmas to Hunter, and to Jill a good-night."