Twas the night before Christmas,
and all through the nuthouse,
not a creature was stirring,
except Edith who was being possessed by Mighty Mouse.
Dan's straight jacket was hung
by the chimney with care.
It smelled nasty after his lunch
With Goldilocks and the three bears.
The patients were nestled,
strapped to their beds.
The shots of dopamine in their ass
cured the visions of sugarplums that were dancing in their heads.
With Bertha in her shackles,
And Dan in his muzzle.
They settled their brains
to finish that 24-piece jigsaw puzzle.
When out on the lawn,
there arose such a clatter.
I wiggled loose from my restraints
to see what was a matter.
Away to the window
I flew like a flash.
Sawed through the steel bars,
and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast
of the new fallen snow,
gave a stench of burnt flesh
when Faith jumped the electric fence to follow Edgar Allan Poe.
When what to my wondering four eyes should appear,
but a miniature sleigh
and eight tiny reindeer.
With a little old driver so lively and quick,
I knew I was having flashbacks from a bad acid trip.
More rapid than eagles
he and the reindeer came.
He recognized me and shouted,
Calling all my personalities by name,
"On Fido! On Xavier! On Dr. Ruth! On John Tesh!
On Ezekial! On Jebediah! On Pilsbury's Pop and Fresh!"
The voices were loading my brain's halls,
"I can't take all the voices! Please dash away all!"
So up on the nuthouse, the cursors they flew,
with a sleigh full of toys.
and Ritilin too.
And then, with a twinkling,
I heard their small hooves
Dan started screaming
because he thought his alien buddies were on the roof.
As I drew in my head,
and was turning around,
down the chimney
he came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur
and was dirtied with soot.
Not to mention Jim, our human sea urchin,
Was attached to his foot.
As he turned around, I saw
The toys flung on his back
And how his pants, ripped from the barb wire,
exposed his butt crack.
His droll little mouth
was drawn up like a bow,
and his beard was as white,
As the six foot rat that follows around Moe.
The stump of his pipe he smoked,
as he smiled kindly at Bertha.
Who dropped to her knees screaming,
"Jerry Garcia has been reincarnated as Santa!"
He was chubby and plump,
an unusual looking elf.
and I laughed at his tentacles,
in spite of myself.
He gave me a wink,
and shuffled his pants
in which then I started to beat him senseless
for upon him I saw thousands of red ants.
When I was sure I killed them,
he turned away from me with a jerk.
He had to look around for his right eye,
But nonetheless finished his work.
Then laying a finger aside,
of his now disfigured nose,
using his un-broken arm,
up the chimney he rose.
He limped to the sleigh, cursing,
as he cut his leg on a thistle.
The inmates started to howl,
as he gave his team a whistle.
Yet, over the noise, I heard him mutter,
as he flew from the scene,
"That damn doctor of his,
Has to double his dose of Flouxentine."

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