There once was a fellow named Santa
Who wanted to move to Atlanta
“I’m tired of snow
And 40 below
I can move on down South if I wanta.”
He met with the elves and the Mrs.
And explained to them about his wishes.
The head elf, named Steve
Said, “When do we leave?”
And his wife just smothered him with kisses.
In a warehouse out off of route 9
Were elves in a wild conga line,
‘Cause Steve had replaced
Every tool in the place
With Computer Aided Design.
Since the hot red suit was so not couturesy,
The elf wardrobe master, Percy,
Gave Santa shorts and flip-flops
Assorted tank tops
And a replica Matt Ryan* jersey.
At the reindeer corral, Santa found
That their diet has made them quite round,
Instead of mistletoe
They pigged out on kudzu
And are too fat to get off the ground.
He learned that production had stalled
Since, Mrs. Claus had not sorted at all
The letters from boys
And girls about toys,
‘Cause she was spending her days at the mall.
Steve told Santa, “This year, I foresee,
We won’t have enough under each tree.
But I’ve dealt with a friend
Who works at Nintend-
-O, to get every kid in the world a new Wii.”
After an overnight session on eBay,
They remembered – no reindeer, no sleigh.
But with some elf luck
Steve found a red pick-up truck
Could be air-dropped by Chevrolet.
Then at last, Santa Claus ventured forth
In his elf-dusted flying transport.
Then we heard his voice call,
“Merry Christmas, y’all!
Next year, we’re moving back North.”
*Hunky quarterback for the Atlanta Falcoms
Merry Christmas from the Center.
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