Twas the night before Laweson-mas, when all through the city,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a kitty.
The stockings were hung by the vents with care,
In hopes that Mr. Dick Laweson soon would be there.
The children were nestled all snug in their pods,
While visions of algae - burgers advertised propaganda danced in their little nog-ins.
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap.
When out on the medal trestle there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was fuck was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Hastily pressed the touch button, the window crystal, and saw a white dash.
The simulated lights on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to East below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature vehicle with some people near.
“Oh no”, I thought. My heart a patter,
We live in east, this shouldn’t be the matter.
The AI gone rouge, the harvesters in the shadow,
I pray silently to the dragons, leave thy family alone.
A little cute woman I see, to lively to believe,
I knew in a moment, it must be a little Eve.
More rapid than eagles her coursers they came,
And she whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
"Now, 21! now, 23! now, 24 and 26!
On, 35! On, 37! on, 42 and ward my sister!
To the top of AEON! to the top of the city!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all my committee!"
As they attach the hover boards of shiny chrome,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the dome.
So up to the housing units the Eves they flew,
With the sacks full of Toys, and CEO Eve too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the sunroof,
The prancing light steps of each little poof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the vent Eve came with a bound.
She was dressed all in epic technological gear, from her head to her foot,
And her clothes were all tarnished with dust and soot.
A bundle of Toys she had flung on her back,
And she looked like a peddler, just opening her pack.
Her eyes-how they twinkled! Her wee little dimples how merry!
Her cheeks were like roses, her nose like a cherry!
Her droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the hair on her head was as white as the snow.
She was to tiny, a right jolly little elf,
And I laughed when I saw her, in spite of myself!
A wink of her eye and a twist of her head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
She spoke not a word, but went straight to her work,
And filled all the stockings, then turned with a twerk.
And laying her hand on a holstered taser,
And giving a smirk, you are to creepy of a gazer!
She lifted it up, to my surprise,
And away to the floor, I guess she was wise?
I lay drooling on the floor, her hand pat my head,
“I am sorry but I don’t love you that way, Fred.”
And off she was, as fast as she came.
Oh well, the end to my pub story will now be lame.