Lulu Hoeller from Pittsburgh, USA, CC BY 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons
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By Bill Stokes
Kickass, the doorstop dog, was again unable to stop the keeper from expressing his seasonal impressions:
“Twas the day after Christmas and all through the place, not a creature was stirring–nobody showed face.
“Phyllis in her robe and me in my rags had just decided to ignore sags and bags.
“When out on the balcony there arose such a din, I sprang from my bed to see who wanted in.
“What to my wondering eyes should appear, but a man with a summons and a request to “sign here.”
“I knew in a moment he was from bankruptcy court, so I drank a pint, or was it a quart.
“The man with the summons tried to come through the door, but I said, ‘Try the chimney, you commercial whore.’
“He called me bad names–one sounded like ‘Witch’ but it could have been ‘Cheap son of a —–.’
“Then he retreated to the street, but before he could go, I shouted out to him, ‘Merry Christmas, and the creditors can kiss my below.’
“Phyllis and I then had a nightcap, just to prove that too old is meaningless crap, and there’s no better time for along winter’s nap.”
