‘Twas the week before Christmas and all throughout Lilly
Not a creature was working, but boy were they silly!
The trio of Mudsuckers once more were thrashed
And all the three moaned, and they wailed and they gnashed,
And though they were not yet in Toilet Bowls swimmin’
The season was lost for the Sloopian women!
And also for Gonzo and evil pal Valerie
Whose bowl has some contents like once-eaten Celerie.
(Who in victory were season-long infrequent dabblers
Unlike the dangerous and high-scoring BABBLERs.
Who finished the season by winning five straight,
Avoiding the flushing they’re learning to hate.)
But even worse off than is Mike and is Stu
Are the veteran trio of Ballers so blue
They’ve since been dispatched and been thrown in the grave
For losing to blind fish that live in a cave.
But others picked rosters in hopes to pursue
A porcelain bowl with the water so blue.
The Penguins are buried well down near last place
And are hoping to stave off that utter disgrace.
They sit back and cower and stutter and flinch,
Surrendering meekly to the holiday grinch
And missing the trip to the holiday ball
By getting a win total three sizes too small.
And Ross hears the Christmas bell - it tolls but for thee -
The denizen now of the place that we pee.
Sharks may have Celerie stuck in their belly,
And both find a home in the potty bowl smelly.
The converted ones join in yule celebration
And score enough points to cause great consternation
To caucasoid scorers of plentiful measure
But who will meet next week to vie for the treasure?
And since we can not now name championship teams
I offer a vision of holiday dreams!
We’d just lain our heads down upon our soft pillows
When started a whisper, like wind through the willows,
That grew to a rumble, and then to a roar,
We trembled in fear of what lay ‘hind the door.
I hid in the bedroom and Dawn ‘neath the table
For lurking outside were two guys that did babble.
We knew that this duo, their hearts filled with treason,
They’d come to wreak havoc this holiday season.
I quaked ‘neath the sheets, my legs they did crumble
As cautiously out of my bed I did tumble.
The tinsel and ornaments gleamed in the night
But mirth there was none - only terrible fright.
The door I threw open and shouted, “Oh HO!!”
But no one was there but the newfallen snow…
I looked up and looked down, to the left and the right,
But yet the foul creatures were nowhere in sight.
I turned on my heels, still as quiet as a mouse,
For Dawn had just said, “Hey! They’re up on the house!”
“The chimney!” I thought, as I rushed back inside,
And once there a horrible visage I spied,
A jovial man dressed in white and in red,
A BABBLERs cap he did perch on his head.
And what to my wondering eyes should appear?
This impish old elf? Still alive for this year?
So grimly he stood there, he laughed and he snorted,
And ‘round us the horrible Santa cavorted.
We knew he was dang’rous, we knew he was raging
We knew not to trust his demeanor engaging.
But hark! On the lawn there arose such a clatter
That I crapped on myself (Brooksie emptied her bladder!)
A grisly old Santa now lurched towards ourselves
For there were now two of those jolly old elves,
To stab their small voodoo, to curse us so crude
To mock us with language unspeakably rude.
I scarcely could think it, yet ‘twas in my mind stuck
To lose to this duo, well that would quite suck!
They challenged us early; but those weeks we did stick
A fork in their season, their butts we twice kicked.
We stood in our tracks there, no fear did we show,
And threatened to throw their butts out in the snow.
Reminders they gave us of weekly scores past,
And fear of their prowess did well in us fast.
We taunted them one time, then two times, then thrice!
And gave them a steely glare frigid as ice.
We showed them our roster and record and said,
“Just when will it get through your babbling head?
We are the true champions, both past and for now,
We’ll prove once again that we deftly know how
To draft and to trade and to play the right man!”
(A lie, but all part of our horrible plan…)
The two of them chuckled, a horrific sight
And showed us the power of Beckage and Bright.
They lifted their jackets and threw down their shorts
And bade us to gaze at their butts -- not for sports.
We wondered from where they had pulled this great season,
And now they had shown us the terrible reason.
“It came from their bum!” cried my partner so scarily,
And fainted, for it had appeared very hairily.
The scarring was deep in my brain of this visage
For staring at buttocks connected to Beckage.
We now knew that they could pull games from their asses
(Memo to me: do not eat Stu’s molasses!)
And now we could see that our fate was portented:
To lose to them was what the gods had intended.
We had but slim chances, the odds they were stacked
Since their lineup with plentiful scorers was packed.
The evil Claus thundered the room as he spake
And Brooksie and I in our shoes we did quake
He called in their henchmen, that terrible elf
And once more did Rito besoil himself!
In from the fireplace, all covered in ashes
Came forth Curtis Martin - the purveyor of dashes
That each of the last several weeks he did score.
Surely there couldn’t be anyone more?
The QB was ancient, yet few can throw quicker
And just for good measure a really good kicker,
Plentiful scores from their punky receiver -
These sights had now rendered me quite a believer!
In the power of BABBLERs and all of their might,
Could leave us all bloodied and battered tonight!
We turned ‘round to face them, the battle was ours --
The duo would have to succumb to our powers.
So bravely we stood in the glow of the tree,
And stared down our foes, both the doctor and me.
We readied our troops for the year’s biggest game
And called out our bounteous scorers by name:
“On Ricky! On Jimmy! On Stephen and Marty!
Go forth and score a grand total most hearty!
On Manning! On Johnson! On Carney and Carter!
Let’s show these poor BABLERs which duo is smarter!”
(And yet, while he led us into the postseason,
Missing for some inexplicable reason,
Was Bettis, the Bus that we’ll call a reindeer,
Whose mission was now undeniably clear:
He got us this far, now he’ll cheer and he’ll rest
And see if his fellow Boys stand for the test.)
We circled the BABBLERs, we growled and we swore,
And yet, twas as if we’d seen this sight before…
(Of course! In week prior the White Boys did grin
As BABBLERs got spanked by us, packed it all in!)
This twosome did seek for the prize most majestic,
But in many years past had been less than pathetic.
I pulled from my pocket the one little thing
For which we each sought - the championship ring!
The winners’ fine prize left us dazzled and dazed,
The BABBLERs and we were most truly amazed.
By charity givings and the role we took in it
And the warm Christmas feeling engulfed us that minute.
We shook hands and parted as foes most respected…
But alas! Our white craniums were most unprotected!
A sucker punch shot left me bloody and reeling,
And quickly removed from the holiday feeling
I turned and prepared for the year’s final fight…
And thus I awoke with a start in the night.
As in all the years past, it was all but a dream,
And now to get on with selecting our team.
I think ‘bout a time when we ruled the postseason
(Perhaps the six liters of egg nog the reason…)
And yet as I sat there all warm in my bed,
I think that it surely ain’t all in my head,
And lo as I look at my wee Christmas tree
I wonder if Beckage is dreaming of me…
As last year, I send along this humble wish:
Peace, love and joy from your favorite commish.
Regardless of faith or religious persuasion
I hope you all have a fine winter vacation.
As we make an effort to make some lives sunny,
By giving ourselves of this charity money,
The this is the spirit, this is the true reason,
For smiling and laughing this holiday season.
So cancer and other diseases be ended,
So puppies and children and rights be defended,
To help out a mission or even for D.A.R.E.
And this year we show a dear friend that we care.
Thanks for the good times, the fun and the cheer!
Merry Christmas to all - and I’ll see you next year!!