Wishing you a merry generic winter holiday

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It was the night before the Generic Winter Holiday, and throughout the Pentagon,
Everything was as tidy as it was under Reagan;
The duplicate segregationist bathrooms had been cleaned with care,
In case Rumburglar made a suprise inspection there.

The base commanders were sitting behind their maplewood desks,
And Colin Powell was videoconferenced to the Prez of the Czechs;
The press pool was in the brefing room, wanting comments on that Lott crap;
Hoping the consies wouldn’t go Ackbar and be all “IT’S A TRAP!”

When from Space Command blared a whole bunch of radio chatter,
Rummy ran over from a tour to see what was amatter;
Suddenly onto the radarscreen a thing up and flashed,
But it was coming through the atmosphere and not turning to ash.

“Is that forking missile defense ready to go?”
Rumburglar said without a great deal of show;
When up popped on visual something so wierd–
Though not a comminuke it was still to be feared.

It was some kind of sleigh, but it was moving so quick–
being pulled by eight suits, some thin and some thick;
Then across the DC airspace with fighter escorts it came,
The pilot calling his ‘mule team’ by name.

“On Yeltsin, on Putin; on Schr? and Zemin!
On Pol Pot, on Castro; on Kofi and Clinton!
Away from the Atlantic, to the Economist Ball;
Dash away, dash away, dash away all!”

And who did Rumburglar see guiding that sleigh?
But the Chairman of the Fed, who was laughing away;
He was owning those leaders, the big and the small–
Heck, you know, Alan Greenspan forking OWNS YOU ALL.

Have a Merry Generic Winter Holiday; sleep well in your beds;
Have some presents– Rumburglar a pimp hat for his head;
Bush’ll get some nice polls, Saddam some nice bombs;
And a happy hundredth for our old friend named Strom!