Twas the night before Christmas and throughout the substation, Not a deputy stirred, they were all on vacation. The stockings were hung on the wall with great care, Next to some T-shirts and old underwear. I was working the night shift compiling stats, Answering the phone, and feeding the rat. When all of a sudden there arose such a clatter, I leapt from my desk to see what was the matter! I opened the door with a creak and a crick, And saw a jolly red fat man I knew must be St. Nick. I had seen his picture a time or two, He was wanted: Article 27 - Section 342. I threw open the door and commanded him "Freeze!" "Put your hands on you head and get down on your knees." But he turned and he ran, up the chimney he flew, with me in pursuit, toward Booth St. I knew. When we got to the roof Santa made for his sleigh, Throwing down toys and blocking my way. As I got to the peak, he threw down some crack, I slipped and I fell landing flat on my back. To my front I was faced with a toy M-1 tank, And Pink Power Rangers covering my flank. "On Dasher, on Dancer!", he cried loud and clear. Then I got off three rounds and just missed the lead deer. And I heard Santa say as he sailed into the blue, "Merry Christmas to all! My Lawyers will sue!"

Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray this cushy life to keep. I pray for toys that look like mice, and sofa cushions, soft and nice. I pray for gourmet kitty snacks, and someone nice to scratch my back, for windowsills all warm and bright, for shadows to explore at night. I pray I'll always stay cool, and keep the secret feline rule, to never tell a human that the world is really ruled by cats!