Twas The Night Before Fitzmas

Twas the night before Fitzmas, and in the White House

Every one was scared shitless, and Bush was quite soused

The indictments were hanging like Damoceles' sword

As verminous oxen prepared to be gored

The perps were all sleepless, curled fetal in bed

While visions of prison cells loomed in each head

And Dick in his jammies, and George in his lap

Were sweating and swearing and looking like crap

When out on the web there arose such a clatter

The blogs and the forums were buzzing with chatter

Away to the PC Rove ran like a flash

He booted his browser and cleared out his cache

The rumors that flew through the cold autumn air

Made Dubya shiver with angry despair

When what to his horror-filled eyes did he spy?

A bespectacled man with a brown suit and tie!

With an impartial manner that gave Bush the shits

He knew in a moment it must be St. Fitz!

With unwavering voice, his indictments they came

He cleared out his throat and he called them by name:

Now Scooter, Now Libby,

Now Blossoming Turd,

Now Cheney, dear Cheney,

Yes, you are the third

To the bench of the court

Up the steps, down the hall

Now come along, come along,

Come along, all!

He then became silent, and went right to work

He filed the indictments and turned with a jerk

And pointing his finger at justice's scale

Said, "The people be served, and let fairness prevail."

He then left the room, to his team gave a nod

And the sound could be heard of a crumbling facade

And we all did exclaim, as he faded from sight

"Merry Fitzmas to all, and to all a good night!"