Twas the night before Christmas parody
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
We waited for Santa Shifty, that old no good louse;
A credit card was hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that old Shifty soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of dad's RSL-II's danced in their heads;
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Were waiting for the arrival of that shifty sap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a hum,
Was my MFW-15's amp once again acting dumb?
I checked my wallet to make sure it still had cash,
Then ran down the stairs just like the Flash.
The security lights were shining on the snow
Making sure we could see if Shifty was out on the snow,
My hands went to my eyes and began to rub,
I stared out in wonderment at the eight humming subs,
And there he stood and pointed at me,
That's when I knew, this was old Santa Shifty.
He unloaded the subs with their bright cracked veneer,
Then he pointed at them and said hey they're finally here;
"There's Hummer! and Flapper! Screwy and Raffle-in!
Look at my B-stock, they all need some fixen'!
Come on you bastards, pump out some bass!
Make enough pressure to lift my fat ***!"
So up to the house-top old Shifty flew,
With a load of B-stock and St. Shifty too.
What did I hear up there on the roof
But Shifty counting his ill-gotten loot.
As I checked my wallet, and was turning around,
Down the chimney Shifty came with a bound.
He was dressed all in teflon, from his head to his foot,
Nothing ever stuck to him, not even the soot;
Speakers and subs he carried on his back,
I've got just what you need right here in this sack.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
Just like a high school kid looking for cherry!
His started to speak as he asked for some cash,
I know they're not working but don't call them trash;
Here's a picture of an RSL-II,it's only six thousand bucks;
I'll get you the speaker next week, with a little bit of luck;
Thanks for the three thousand you sent for your mojo LS-9,
When I get the ports and flares, you'll feel mighty fine.
I'm running some raffles for those orphange kids,
Won't you buy 20 so they can get clothes that fit?
As he kept talking and nodding his head,
A feeling came over me, I'm sure it was dread;
Doing charitable deeds and making great products is mighty tough work,
While in his head he wondered how much money he could get out of this jerk?
He put the cash in his pocket then wrinkled his nose,
And with that, up the chimney he rose;
My wife said what the hell did you just do,
Nothing here works, he just played you for a fool.
But I heard him exclaim, before he left us with screws that weren't tight,
"Humbly bumbly to all, and to all a good-night."