The night before Christmas, as it should be

shootlow · December 20, 2007 15:55

'Twas the night before Christmas,

cold, dark and foreboding,

I sat at the work bench,

quite busy reloading.

The empties from autumn were polished so clear

for primers and powder and bullets from Speer

and Hornady's soft-points, and Nosler's Partitions

(my bench ain't no place for brand name omissions!).

All sat in their boxes, right next to the press

with dies from Dillon, and RCBS,

when all of a sudden there came such a jolt,

I grabbed for my Benelli and whipped out my Colt.

As I spilled Hodgdon's powder

all over the shelf,

I scrambled for cover,

just to protect myself.

From up on the rooftop,

came hoofbeats and snorting

like the noise out of L'il Rock

from Clinton's cavorting!

I eased off the safety,

to press-check my auto

with 230-talons,

I'll knock 'em all blotto.

Were these rogue federal agents,

sent by Schumer and Reno ?

Or a staggering Ted Kennedy,

in bad need of vino?

My question was answered

with a knock, and some sneezing,

"It's Santa, you moron,

lemme in there, I'm freezing!"

I flipped off the dead-bolt and threw the door wide

to find St. Nick a shivering, Rudolph by his side.

He eyeballed my A.K. with a nod of approval

"You're all set," he said, "for dirtball removal."

"But this is no raid, we're not here to harm you

nor persecute, prosecute, nor even disarm you"

"Instead," said dear Santa, "I needed to borrow

your .357 'till day after tomorrow."

"It's okay," he assured me, with a hint of frustration,

"I'm enrolled in the National Rifle Association."

He showed me his card, 'twas a Life Member rating,

"I've had this since me and the missus were dating!"

"And you see, Bob, ol' buddy,

I've gotten real nervous

since Feinstein was elected

with a promise to serve us.

So henceforth as I'm out there, my presents a stackin',

I want to assure you, I'm legally packin'',

and my gift for you this year should give you a hoot

I've told the Supreme Court to give Brady the boot!

Now, Rudy and I must be on our way,"

he said as he climbed back in his sleigh.

With the reins in his hand and my Colt in his pocket,

he jingled the sleighbells and was off like a rocket.

With a pair of speed-loaders

and ammo to spare,

I knew he'd be safe,

he was loaded for bear!

As he faded from view, I could still hear him calling

"From D.C., where 'P.C.' is already falling.

To bad guys in L.A. , Detroit and Atlanta ,

"I'm licensed to carry, don't mess with Santa!"

__._,_.___

The night before Christmas, as it should be

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