It was the night before Christmas, or Kwanzaa or whatever,
when I heard a great noise, it was loud, a great clamor!
I ran to the window and what do I find?
Carolers, singing the bells, and one ... getting high?
He had a blunt in his mouth and baggies of hashish,
And handed them out to the kids with the cash.
I grew upset, and before I could do something,
I noticed up in the sky: it's a bird, a plane, a super guy!
He came down from above, as the choir started to sing,
"Silent Night," and he started to plea:
"No, no, no, you can't sing that!" he said, his voice in a quiver,
"Sing about gender neutral, meaningless jibber!
"Look at this guy; he has the right spirit,
"he hands out pot like candy — he can deliver!
"Speaking of which, I need a nickel and dime,
"it's been a while since even I have been high!"
"That's it!" cried I, "This is stupid and insane!
I don't care if he's a 'hero,' I think weirdo's a better name!"
Then off in a rush, grabbed my gun — just in case,
and ran down the stairs in a hurried pace.
When I left the building, the situation was worse,
there was another, super type person arguing with the first!
They yelled and fought and threw carolers like snowballs,
and beat each other silly, while the stoned one weighed snow.
"That's enough!" said I, waiving the gun in the air,
and fired three rounds so they knew I was there.
"Cool! It's a gun!" said one, the other, "EVIIIIL!!"
and the one who liked it shoved the others head in the snow.
"Let me introduce myself, I am Politically Incorrect Man," said he,
"but Super Bob you may call me"
"I don't care who you are, I want you to leave this city!"
And before I could say more, the other tossed him — I felt no pity.
"Allow me to introduce myself!" said the other with glitter in eye, and a sparkle in cheek.
He then cleared his throat and began to speak:
"I am the Willingly Democratic Socialistic Politically Correct Super Person!" he shouted — I thought I heard fanfare.
and then, "I am here to tell you that GUNS ARE EVIIIIL!!! Try rhyming that you conservative jerk!"
and while from Bob I sensed immaturity,
with this What's-his-name, I sensed pure stupidity.
Then as What's-his-name was about to grab me by the throat,
Super Bob came and hit him with a large model toy boat.