A burglar stages a heist on the night Santa visits a home. Shots are fired but the burglar already cut the power before going in and nobody can tell for sure who's who. Problem is both Santa and burglar have a big sack and both are dressed in Santa suits. One of them is down, the other is nowhere around. Did the real Santa scramble away in fright or was it the burglar who escaped with his loot?
Here's a poem which speaks along the same line but mind the twists, it may or may not give a satisfying answer to the question but it should thrill you-there's an element of surprise.
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| Photo: aarp.org |
Came sliding down our chimney for an awesome opossum.
They came at intervals both present for the action.
Dad was out on unspecified assignment, said mom.
We was asleep when things went down but we heard a buzz.
I guess one Santa hit on the other and they fought.
Whatever it was that started the bustle, it caught.
The two Santas royal rumbled beside the large hearth.
'Twas on the night before Christmas all hell broke the peace
And the Grinch came and stole the spirit of the season.
One of the Santas cut the power and locked us in,
Which of the Santas was the burglar, which was the real?
They both wore their Santa suits, they both laughed Ho! Ho!
When mom demanded they pull their beards they went No! No!
Now Junior he's been basing but do not tell him so.
He fetched his Luger and drilled in one Santa two potholes.
'Twas on the morn' of Christmas by the light of the moon,
We checked the Santa Junior picked off and mother swooned.
Second Santa was long gone guess he was the real goon.
But how come mama zonked out, did she love Santa too?
I know we killed the real Santa but it wasn't noon?
He wore beards, hard to identify without preview.
When mom started kissing Santa, we thought she was loon.
Junior pulled the beards, Santa became Dad. We were doomed!
Akpan
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