Twas the night before Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas and all throughout the land, 
all the patriots were grateful their AR’s were not banned.
Their stocks are all collapsed too to fit in their safes, 
and they are wondering if descending a chimney Santa would chafe.
The patriots and their families were all tucked into bed, 
wondering if the new guns Santa would bring would be belt-fed?
With my Glock in my nightstand for an intruder I might cap, 
gives me peace of mind for a Christmas Eve nap.
When outside there came a great clamor, 
I grabbed my Creedmoor to investigate the matter.

I crept towards the ruckus without making a sound, 
to an upstairs window to get the high ground.
I beheld some tracks on the fresh new snow, 
then the moonlight silhouetted the creatures below. 
To my great astonishment I began to fear, 
a red laser sight coming from a deer.
It was getting crazy and happening so quick, 
my safety selector my finger did flick.

What happened next will forever cause me shame,
I calmed my breathing to take better aim.
The next event will make more infamous than Nixon,
I tested my magazine to ensure it was clicked in.
As I slacked the trigger forgetting the day was my downfall,
My gun recoiled and the deer dropped like the New Year’s Eve ball.

In split second the rest of the creatures launched to the sky,
I knew that instant I was now a bad guy.
Santa then appear from the sleigh his hat was askew,
From that moment on I knew I was in deep do-do.
Santa was real I needed no other proof,
On the naughty list forever due to my Christmas Eve Goof.

After a few deep breathes I began to calm down,
Outside I ventured to see what I shot down.
Across my lawn I trekked the snow crunched underfoot,
The deer did not move where it fell it stayed put.
My hand came to my forehead where it did smack,
My doctor I must call to get prescribed Prozac.

Because I shot Rudolf Santa was now my adversary,
What to do with Rudolf I thought culinary.
I grabbed Rudolf’s hind legs and towards my house I did tow,
Christmas dinner would be venison and baked potato.
I found my skinning knife and began to unsheathe,
For dessert Better Than Whatever Cake sprinkled with Heath.

Skinning Rudolf was all kinds of smelly,
To drink we would have apple Martinelli.
I needed a recipe so I wandered to the bookshelf,
On the naughty list forever I should indulge myself.
My disappointment was real a few tears I did shed,
My taxidermist I must call to mount Rudolf’s head.

My wife finally found me and she went berserk,
For shooting Rudolf she thought I was a real jerk.
Scolded me good, with her hands on hips pose,
We would get no gifts from Santa no shoes no guns no clothes.
My explanation about the scene to her seemed superficial,
That a deer would be sighting me with a red laser-guided missile.
Totally furious and completely filled with spite,
Eating Rudolf for Christmas dinner she agreed tasted just right.