not a creature was stirring, not even a louse.
The stocks had been laundered by Frist with care, hoping that Scooter and Rove soon would be there.
The indictments were nestled all snug in their beds,
while visions of justice done danced in our heads.
And Rove in his ‘kerchief, and Libby in his cap,
had thought they were safe to take a long winter’s nap.
When out on the streets there arose such a clatter,
They sprang from their bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window they flew like a flash,
tore open the shutter, and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the fallen neo-cons
gave the lustre of evil to the devils own spawn,
when, what to their frightened eyes should appear,
but a man bearing indictments drawing near.
With a roar from the crowd, chomping at the bit,
They knew in a moment it must be St. Fitz.
More rapid than eagles, his courses they came,
and he whistled and shouted and called them by name:
“Now Rove! Now Libby!
Now, Bush and Cheney!
And Condi! , And Rumsfield!
The names of the damned were just too many!
The crowed now chanted!
“They have decieved us, now they must fall!
Now take them away! Take them away!
Take them all!”
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
when they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky
so up to the court house he flew,
with the sleigh full of indictments, and a few surprises too.
And then, in a twinkling, They heard a noise so loud
the shouts for justice from the gathered crowd.
As they drew in their heads and were turning to flee,
down the chimney St. Fitz came with a shout of glee.
He stood toe to toe, with criminals he knew.
And they were all tarnished with deceit and scheme.
And cowering they had tried to hide what they done but now it would seem,
the day of judgment nearer it drew.
Fitz’s eyes–how they twinkled! His dimples, how merry!
His indictments came from his long inquiry!
Roves droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
”I had nothing to do with it, ask Miller, she’ll know!”
Libby cowered in the corner a whimper he gave,
he knew in prison, he’d be somebody’s slave.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
and handed out the indictments, to those sniviling jerks.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
Said “the punishment for deceit of the people, should be the gallows.”
He gave the signal to his team to take them away.
And away they went for mug shots or two.
But we heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
“Happy Fitzmas to all, and to all a good night!”
from http://drblog.eosin.org
-will tomorrow be the day that indictments are handed down?
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