Twas the Night Before Christmas (For Credit Card Holders)

rdeer1

by David Frank

Twas the day after Christmas and all
        through the house 
        Children sat slack-jawed, bored on the couch. 
        Wrappings and toys littered the floor, 
        An incredible mess that I did abhor.

        With Mom in her robe and I in my jeans, 
        We waded in to get the place clean. 
        When suddenly the doorbell started to clatter, 
        I sprang to the Security-View to check out the matter. 

        The new-fallen snow, now blackened with soot, 
        Was trampled and icy and treacherous to foot. 
        But suddenly in view, did I gasp and pant, 
        An unhappy bill collector and eight tiny accountants. 

        The door flew open and in they came, 
        Stern-looking men with bills in my name. 
        On Discover, on Visa, on American Express, 
        On Mastercard too, I sadly confess, 
        To the top of my limits, to the top of my worth, 
        Then over the top I had charged, in a frenzy of mirth. 

        The black-suited men, so somber, so strict, 
        I wondered why me that they had first picked. 
        They stared at me with a look I couldn't miss, 
        That said "Buddy, what are your plans for paying for this?"

        I shrugged my shoulders, but then I grew bolder, 
        Went to the cabinet and pulled out a folder. 
        "As you can see," I said with a smile, 
        "It's bankruptcy that I'll have to file."

        And with a swoop of my arm, my middle digit extended 
        I threw the bills in the fire: the matter had ended. 
        The scent of burnt ash came to my nose, 
        As up the chimney my credit-worthiness rose. 

        Without another word they turned and walked out, 
        Got into their limos, but one gave a shout: 
        "You may think that's the answer to all of your fears, 
        But it's nothing you'll charge for at least seven years!