Wednesday, July 21, 2010

The Christmas from hell..

This is what comes out of having to work Christmas eve..


'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;

The box files were stacked by the cartons with care,
In hopes that the client wont find them there;

The errors were nestled all safe out of sight,
While visions of reviews kept me up through the night;

The manager was in a frenzy, the files in my lap,
My eyes they were bloodshot, in need of a nap,

When in the finance bay there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my seat to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But the psychotic CFO, who was drawing near.

With an odd kind of gait, slithery and quick,
I knew in a moment it must that dick.

More rapid than eagles the VP's they came,
And he cussed, and shouted, and called them by name;

"Now, Bakshi! now, Misra! now, Datta and Verma!
Oye, Prakash! Abe, Kumar! Arre, D'souza and Sharma!"

"Hide under your desk! Dive behind the wall!"
From all around me rose such frantic calls.

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,

So in to the store room the Finance team flew,
With eyes ablaze, the CFO followed too.

And then, quite an uproar, I heard from within
The screaming and pleading and confessing of sins.

As I lowered my head, and was turning around,
Out the store room that blighter came with a bound.

A folder of pink slips he flung on the rack,
And recited the names of the ones getting sacked.

His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;

He was fuming and frowning, a right scary sight,
And I shivered when I saw him, overcome by fright;

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had plenty to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And fired all the slackers; then turned with a jerk,

And laying his signature aside of the sheet,
And giving a nod, he rose to his feet;

He sprang out the door, his team breathed relief,
And away they all flew some overcome with grief.

But I heard him exclaim, ere he walked out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."

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