'Twas The Day After Christmas

'Twas the day after Christmas and all through the house
The children sat slackjawed, bored on the couch.
Wrappings and toys littered the floor
An incredible mess that I did abhor.

With Mom in her robe and I in my jeans
We waded in to get the place clean.
When suddenly the doorbell, it started to clatter
I sprang to the security view to check out the matter.

The new fallen snow now blackened with soot
Was trampled and icy and treacherous to foot.
But suddenly in view, did I gasp and pant
An unhappy bill collector and eight tiny accountants.

The door flew open and in they came
Stern-looking men with bills in my name.
On Discover, on Visa, on American Express
On Mastercard too, I sadly confess.

Right to my limits, then beyond my net worth
Over the top I had charged, in a frenzy of mirth.
The black-suited men, so somber, so strict
I wondered why me that they had first picked.

They stared at me with a look I couldn't miss
That said "Buddy, when are you paying for this?"
I shrugged my shoulders, but then I grew bolder
Went to the cabinet and pulled out a folder.

"As you can see," I said with a smile,
"It's bankruptcy that I'll have to file!"
And with a swoop of my arm, my middle digit extended
I threw the bills in the fire, the matter had ended.

The scent of burnt ash came to my nose
As up the chimney my credit worthiness rose.
With another word they turned and walked out
Got into their limos, but one gave a shout:

"YOU MAY THINK THAT'S THE ANSWER TO ALL OF YOUR FEARS,
BUT THERE'S NOTHING YOU'LL CHARGE FOR AT LEAST SEVEN YEARS!"

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