I wish I could take credit, but I'm not this clever. Courtesy of www.thewirewheel.net
T’was the night before Christmas, alone in my shop Rebuilding an engine, I just couldn’t stop. My torque wrench applied to the head bolts with care, Hoping the right tolerances were, in fact in there.
When out in the drive there arose such a clatter, I peeked from under the bonnet to see what was the matter. When what to my wandering eyes did acquire, But eight tiny reindeer pulling an E-type Jaguar.
The little old driver, so lively and quick, I thought, “what’s with the deer? Is your Jag feeling sick?” His eyes how they twinkled as he opened the boot, And rustled around in the back for some loot.
He approached and plunked down there at my feet An overdrive transmission with the rebuild receipt! He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work Installed the new gearbox and headers by Kirk!
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came, And he whistled and shouted and called them by name! “Now, Lucas, now Triumph, now Porsche, and Weber! On Mustang, on Healey, on Aston and Beamer!”
Then all of a sudden a sound came from Heaven The reindeer were gone, and the Jag was a revin’. He roared down the street onto Interstate Five Shouting “Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good drive!”
