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Twas the night before Christmas
Not a vehicle was stirring, not even my jeep.
I?m still grinning ear to ear, even in paradoxical sleep.
All the parts I ordered from BJ's and Zack's said ?American Made.?
And I was asked to pull a float in Macy?s Christmas parade.
When out in the mounds there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the floor crawler to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
D A M N it, I tripped and fell over the trash.
My new razor grill reflected the new-fallen snow.
But wait there?s tire tracks down below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But five FULL SIZE JEEPS with a sled to the rear,
With a big old fart in the sleigh, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be ol?e Grand Nick.
Flinging big globs of mud, all he did was curse as he came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"On, WAGONEER! On, HONCHO!
On, CHIEF! on CHEROKEE! on, LAREDO!
Through trails and swamps filled with mud!
Now push your Staun deflators and lock in your hubs!"
We?ll be heading to Fricker?s later for some grub.
As engines revived high and the FSJs did crawl,
Even with loose footing they did not stall,
Letting up on the throttle and shifting to 4 low,
The five muddy FSJs started to go.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard over head.
The parking of a sled with a long bed.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the chimney Grand Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed in full camo Carharts and Action fleece,
And his clothes were all tarnished with oil and grease;
A bundle of Jeep parts he had flung on his back,
And he looked like Zack just opening his pack.
His eyes how they twinkled as he sifted through parts,
There where all things for Jeeps that are dear to our hearts!
He drooled a little from the corner of his mouth
He thought he caught something in the great Deep South.
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And on the side of it were gold letters that spelled "JEEP keep the mud beneath "
He pulled a pouch from his pocket that said ?metric wrenches?
?It holds my safety glasses.? and threw the pouch on the benches
He was chubby and plump, I ask how long have you been this way!
He thought he started gaining the 100 lbs back in MAY
With a wink of his eye; he pulled out a deep well socket.
And put his still smoldering pipe in his hip pocket.
He did speak a few words, with his tools in his hand
?Hey, just don?t stand there, turn on the radio then give me a hand!?
He went straight to my jeep and began to turn wrenches,
?When we finish here I am going to look for some wenches.?
He sprang to his JEEP, to his team gave a shout,
And through the thick mud, they crawled their way out.
But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight,
"HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND GOOD MUDDING TONIGHT!"
Not a vehicle was stirring, not even my jeep.
I?m still grinning ear to ear, even in paradoxical sleep.
All the parts I ordered from BJ's and Zack's said ?American Made.?
And I was asked to pull a float in Macy?s Christmas parade.
When out in the mounds there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the floor crawler to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
D A M N it, I tripped and fell over the trash.
My new razor grill reflected the new-fallen snow.
But wait there?s tire tracks down below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But five FULL SIZE JEEPS with a sled to the rear,
With a big old fart in the sleigh, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be ol?e Grand Nick.
Flinging big globs of mud, all he did was curse as he came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"On, WAGONEER! On, HONCHO!
On, CHIEF! on CHEROKEE! on, LAREDO!
Through trails and swamps filled with mud!
Now push your Staun deflators and lock in your hubs!"
We?ll be heading to Fricker?s later for some grub.
As engines revived high and the FSJs did crawl,
Even with loose footing they did not stall,
Letting up on the throttle and shifting to 4 low,
The five muddy FSJs started to go.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard over head.
The parking of a sled with a long bed.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the chimney Grand Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed in full camo Carharts and Action fleece,
And his clothes were all tarnished with oil and grease;
A bundle of Jeep parts he had flung on his back,
And he looked like Zack just opening his pack.
His eyes how they twinkled as he sifted through parts,
There where all things for Jeeps that are dear to our hearts!
He drooled a little from the corner of his mouth
He thought he caught something in the great Deep South.
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And on the side of it were gold letters that spelled "JEEP keep the mud beneath "
He pulled a pouch from his pocket that said ?metric wrenches?
?It holds my safety glasses.? and threw the pouch on the benches
He was chubby and plump, I ask how long have you been this way!
He thought he started gaining the 100 lbs back in MAY
With a wink of his eye; he pulled out a deep well socket.
And put his still smoldering pipe in his hip pocket.
He did speak a few words, with his tools in his hand
?Hey, just don?t stand there, turn on the radio then give me a hand!?
He went straight to my jeep and began to turn wrenches,
?When we finish here I am going to look for some wenches.?
He sprang to his JEEP, to his team gave a shout,
And through the thick mud, they crawled their way out.
But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight,
"HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND GOOD MUDDING TONIGHT!"
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