Monday, December 21, 2009

The Night Before Christmas (at the Motel)

Behold a festive tale:









Twas the night before Christmas and at the motel,
The dumpster was emitting a terrible smell.
The rooms were locked by the tenants with care, 
For fear that the squad cars soon would be there.


The drunk guy had passed out in front of his door,
And woke up his neighbors with a deafening snore.  
 The snow drifts were piled ten feet in the air,
With vodka bottles placed around them with care.


Bridget, my niece, came to me and said,  
"I'm tired, Uncle Charlie, I'm going to bed."  
I gave her a hug and she went to her room.  
But the night wasn't over. I was wrong to presume.


I closed up the office and put up the sign,  
Just as I did every night at nine.
I grabbed the remote and with a contented sigh,
Settled in to watch some Family Guy.


When outside my door there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the chair to see what was the matter.
  I ran to the window to see, but instead,
 The Christmas tree tumbled on top of my head!

I pushed it aside and opened the door,
Now realizing that my head was sore.
I straightened myself and walked outside,  
And what I saw made my eyes open wide.


Twas drunken Larry, in a fit of rage,
And clearly some sort of battle did wage.
He was screaming at Mary, his toothless wife,
Who had apparently thrashed him within an inch of his life.

She called him a bum, and he yelled something worse,
Then she screamed what sounded like a Gypsy curse.

He screamed right back, some garbled words,
And they both squawked on like demonic birds.




Other tenants came out, to encourage the show,
Like the dude called Shady, and Vodka Joe.
And before I could wonder why I took this job,
The crowd turned into an idiot mob.




I told them to stop, before they ruin the peace,
But Larry said "Too Late, here comes the niece!"
I could tell by her face she was ready to pummel,
Trust me, don't mess with a pissed off Hummel!



Larry shut up and seemed rather dazed, 
For he stared at my niece and looked quite amazed.
What he’d been doing he clearly forgot,
For he opened his mouth and said  "Bridget, You're hot!"




At that moment not a sound could be heard,
And no one dared to utter a word.
For there in a doorway,
          looking not at all bored,
Was my assistant, Jayson, and his three foot sword.




I yelled for Larry to go back to his room,
But he apparently continued to dig his tomb.
He lunged towards Bridget, and said with a leer,
"If I were 30 years younger, I'd buy you a beer!"



What I saw next was a cartoon cloud,
With some hands and fists engulfing the crowd.
I now knew the only way to end this fun, 
Was to pick up the phone and hit NINE ONE ONE. 
 
I calmly told dispatch what was brewing, 
And of course I heard "Hi, Chuck, how ya doing?" 
I found it funny that they knew my name,
And knew it only added to the motel's fame. 


I ran back out to find my niece, 
And saw her calmly awaiting the police.
But I heard her exclaim as the squads made their stops, 
"Merry Christmas to all, AND WE GOT COPS!”