'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the pod
Not a creature was stirring, not even our squad.
When out on Western there arose such a clatter,
We sprang from our shared platonic twin bed to see what was the matter.
When what to our wondering eyes did we see the noise,
But a miniature sleigh and two hungry poor boys,
And the boys whistled, and shouted, and called their sketches by name:
"Now, Tim Allen! Now, Coco! Now Dwama and Wisemen!
Now dash away! Dash away! Away like good Christians!"
As we drew in our heads, and were turning around,
The Brandy Alexander Boys came in with a bound.
A bundle of scripts they had flung on their back,And they looked like pedlers just opening their packs.
The boys then sprung to their sleigh, to their team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the crack of Mrs. Claus’s pistol.
But I heard the boys exclaim, ere they drove out of sight—
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”
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