The Plumber’s Christmas

Tales of the Plumber Christmas

‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, other than that louse
Standing at the back door with an auto 9-mil
While Anna was sleeping, she’d taken a pill.

Her boyfriend named Kodek wasn’t sleepy at all
He was, at the moment, creeping on down the hall
He was trying to be quiet, to not wake her up
And he got to the kitchen and reached for a cup

He opened the fridge and found the liqueur
That they’d opened that evening on the couch of velour
In their living room cozied by the warmth of the fire
And filling their heads with warm thoughts of desire

And up to the bedroom they soon had retired
After taking each other, and his gun he had fired
And now, hours later, while she slept in their bed
Some scumbag was gearing to fill them with lead

And with Kodek now slinking downstairs for his drink
He managed to hear at the door a slight CLINK.
He might have been worn from their long night of passion
But he knew that he’d still be up for a smashin’
If the situation called for a rash bit of action
He’d stab the guy in the eye–
And a neck-snap contraction

He was calm on the outside, setting the drink on the table
His nerves were of steel, his position was stable
He waited and listened, pretended to sip
And soon he thought maybe he’d been given the slip

He rushed to the door and swung it out wide
Intending surprise to the killer outside
But what to his blood-pumping heart should appear…

But nothing, of course. The back yard was clear.

He was starting to think he’d come home far too soon
The last night in Bedlam had been the full moon
A full month now he’d been home, and was glad he was back
But he wondered, deep in his mind… If his doc was a hack.

He’d suffered some dreams of the damned since at home
Not only of rooms where the walls were all foam
He had crazy dreams of space, time and creatures
To rival the best Halloween double-features

And now here, he wasn’t so sure… Was there sound?
From outside where hitmen were lurking around?
He went back to the door and stuck his head out,
But this time he looked up – and there, on the spout!

The killer was climbing on up the side of the wall
To get to the bedroom where Anna slept like a doll
But if Kodek could reach him he could still make him fall
To the snow-covered ground, his body would sprawl

Kodek ran back inside and he shot up the stairs
And ran through the room, nearly tripped on the chairs
But he got to the window and threw up the sash
And was met with a gun barrel and a bright muzzle flash

But luckily the guy was trying to hold on
To the wall the shot missed, then he fell to the lawn
Kodek heard the guy’s skull crack from two stories high
And hoped to himself that the killer would die

Anna, still sleeping like a baby in bed
With visions of sugarplums ’round in her head
Gave Kodek the notion to run down to the yard
Which is just what he did, with his feet running hard

But the hitman was dead in the snow, that was certain
The brains leaking out of his head, the last curtain
And Kodek, relieved, silently shut the back door
And finished his drink, and to bed, then, once more

To rest his weary head on the pillow, not with sorrow,
But with thoughts of sweet Anna,
And a better tomorrow.

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