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'Twas the Night Before Big Butt...


'Twas the night before Christmas
when all through the web
not a creature was surfing,
not a Ron or a Deb.
Yet I emailed the cyber butts
with special care,
in hopes that a friend
would be mooned somewhere.

I imagined my friends,
all snug in their beds,
while visions of cyber moons
danced in their heads.
When suddenly outside
there arose such a clatter,
that I dropped my mouse
to see what was the matter.
Away to my window I flew like a flash,
to draw back the curtains in a dash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
gave life to the objects wiggling below--
for what to my wondering eyes should appear,
but a big butt moon,
and eight big butt reindeers.

Though big butt was
so very lively and quick,
I knew in a moment
he could not be St. Nick.
More rapid than wind,
his minions, they came,
and he tooted and tooted
as he called them by name;
"Now, Hairy! Now, Rumpus!
Now, Sweet Buns and Wimple!
On, Flasher! On Bung!
On, Downer and Dimple!
To the top of the porch,
to the top of the wall--
now moon away, moon away,
moon away all!"

Though they had no wings,
gas propelled them up high,
What a sight to see them
mount the sky.
Up to the house-top
the big butts flew,
with the sleigh full of small butts,
and Big Butt Santa too.
And then, in a twinkling,
I felt ill in my gut,
as I smelled the tooting
of each little butt.

As I covered my nose,
and was turning around,
down the chimney Big Butt came
with an awful sound.
A bundle of small butts
hung out of his sack,
and he looked so happy
as he opened his pack.
His flesh how it twinkled,
his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses,
the color of a cherry!
His droll little buns
were drawn up like a bow,
and the hair on his butt
was as white as the snow;

He smiled at me,
without any teeth,
and a steamy fart encircled him
like a wreath;
He was round and fat
though he had no belly,
and he shook like a mountain of petroleum jelly.
He was chubby and plump,
a right jolly old butt,
and I laughed when around the room
he decided to strut.
A wink of his cheek
and a twist of his hat,
nearly scared away
my sassy, old cat.

He spoke not a word,
but went straight to his work--
what Santa sends
if you've been a jerk.
Removing his hat,
the big butts in tune,
they lined up to give me
a fart and a moon.

In the air so foul
the odor hung,
from the musical work
of each and every bung.
Then they sprang to the roof,
to give one last fart,
And away they all flew,
using gas to depart.
But I heard Big Butt exclaim,
as he spewed with cheer,
"Happy Big Butt Christmas to all,
and to all a good new moon year!"

"'Twas the Night Before Big Butt," written and designed by Bobette Bryan, 2000.

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