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Writing.Com Time

Tuesday
May 29, 2012
11:43am EDT


Content Rating Notice:  Recommended for Readers 18 Years and Older Only
  >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Comedy >> ID #1509064  |   Show DetailsPrinter Friendly Page Tell A Friend
Santa Spam, Twas The Night Before
Written for the Spamslinger's contest, Not for the faint of heart!
Rated:
18+
by
Avg Rating: (5)
*Snow1*  Twas The Night Before  *Snow1*


Twas the night before Christmas, I lay on the couch,
Gobbling up Cheetos and drinks by the pouch
The stockings were jutting from nails in the wall
I heard my spouse snoring from way down the hall

When upon my front door I heard a loud knock
I peered through my window and got quite a shock.
There was Saint Nick, at my door with a grin,
And a small string of drool glistened there on his chin.

I knew who it was, but I said “Who is it?”
He cried “It’s Santa Clause you damn idiot!”
So I let him in without even a thought
I wanted to see what the fat man had brought.

He grinned a wide grin and said “Close your eyes,
And I will give you a wondrous surprise!”
I did as I was told then I squeezed them tight
And held out my hand with a thrill of delight.

I first heard a grunt. And then came a “zip”
And he placed in my hand something warm and adrip.
It was firm, it was meaty, and it gave quite a stench.
The liquid dripped down till my hand was adrench.

I wrinkled my nose, and gave quite a frown,
But Santa, he said, “Please don’t put it down!”
So I held on tight, and my fingers dug in,
I heard Santa moaning, now and again.

He breathlessly whispered “Put it in your mouth”
I held my breath as my stomach went south.
With trembling fingers I raised the large mass,
And into my mouth like a small baby bass ,

At first I was gagging, but then Oh the taste!
The smile that I smiled nearly split up my face!
It was salty, and greasy, and chewy at once,
I thought not to like it I must be a dunce.

So I took a big bite, and I swallowed it down,
Then I heard Santa making a horrible sound.
I opened my eyes, and there he stood weeping,
Holding his mass that was bitten and seeping.

I said “Why all the waterworks, jolly fat dude?
I did what you told me, as best as I could,
I took your meaty mass, deep into my throat,
And I ate it, though frankly, it smelled like a goat.


“It’s not that you bit it” he said as he wept
“But this treasure I hold here, I’ve forever kept”
I pondered his musings, then Santa yelled “DAMN!”
“I wish you’d not eaten my last bit of SPAM!”








I



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