THE MUSTANG NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS
by John S. <---- me
'Twas the night before Christmas, and we cruised through the street,
The 351W was purring , I knew it was sweet.
The wheels were all shined and polished with care,
In hopes that a Camaro, soon would be there;
The children were with sitter, nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of pro street cars danced in their heads;
And mamma in her 'SVT shirt, and I in my Saleen Cap,
Had just pulled into a Sonic for a quick night snack,
When out in the street there arose such a clatter,
I rolled down my window to see what was the matter.
Away to the hood latch I flew like a flash,
flipped it open and threw up the sash.
The glow of the overhead signs, like the lights at a show
Gave the luster of mid-day to the engine below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature car, a bazillion stickers, and hilarious gear,
With a young punk driver, so wobbly and drunk,
I knew in a moment he must be a punk.
More rapid than fly’s his rice buddies came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Honda! now, Hyundai! now, Mazda and Mitsi!
On, Yota! on Nissan! on Nissmo! and Subru!
To the top of the porch! Graffiti the wall!
Then dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
they pulled in the parking lot to postulate and lie,
So like all curious boys, to my Mustang they flew,
they ogled the toys, and of course mamma too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard from the back
”I bet this car aint fast, I bet he’s a hack”.
As I closed the hood, and was turning around,
Punk came up to me with a bound.
He was dressed all in baggy’s, from his head to his toe,
And he says “my cars faster than yours just so you know”
”I disagree” I replied, “as a matter of fact I think you’d get fried!”.
He look all astonished, and said “man let’s prove it”.
”Cool!” I said “just make sure you don’t quit”!
Well, we lined up at the light, it glowed like a cherry!
He revved his motor it sounded quite scary,
The light went green and his throttle he nailed;
Meanwhile I’m thinking “Man I hope I don’t get jailed”!
I gave him a car length then rolled on the throttle;
All pure motor, no boost or bottle,
The stang jumped, it snapped my neck back,
It appeared we were about to see who was the hack!
And I laughed when I passed him, in spite of myself;
and momma she grinned like Santa’s lil elf.
The rate at which we soon led, gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
After the race he spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
made all the excuses; then turned like a jerk,
giving me the finger as away he drove,
cursing and screaming down the highway he strove;
I sprang to my phone and, to the cops gave a whistle,
away flew all the ricers, like the down of a thistle.
But I heard them exclaim, ere they drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."
MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!
by John S. <---- me
'Twas the night before Christmas, and we cruised through the street,
The 351W was purring , I knew it was sweet.
The wheels were all shined and polished with care,
In hopes that a Camaro, soon would be there;
The children were with sitter, nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of pro street cars danced in their heads;
And mamma in her 'SVT shirt, and I in my Saleen Cap,
Had just pulled into a Sonic for a quick night snack,
When out in the street there arose such a clatter,
I rolled down my window to see what was the matter.
Away to the hood latch I flew like a flash,
flipped it open and threw up the sash.
The glow of the overhead signs, like the lights at a show
Gave the luster of mid-day to the engine below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature car, a bazillion stickers, and hilarious gear,
With a young punk driver, so wobbly and drunk,
I knew in a moment he must be a punk.
More rapid than fly’s his rice buddies came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Honda! now, Hyundai! now, Mazda and Mitsi!
On, Yota! on Nissan! on Nissmo! and Subru!
To the top of the porch! Graffiti the wall!
Then dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
they pulled in the parking lot to postulate and lie,
So like all curious boys, to my Mustang they flew,
they ogled the toys, and of course mamma too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard from the back
”I bet this car aint fast, I bet he’s a hack”.
As I closed the hood, and was turning around,
Punk came up to me with a bound.
He was dressed all in baggy’s, from his head to his toe,
And he says “my cars faster than yours just so you know”
”I disagree” I replied, “as a matter of fact I think you’d get fried!”.
He look all astonished, and said “man let’s prove it”.
”Cool!” I said “just make sure you don’t quit”!
Well, we lined up at the light, it glowed like a cherry!
He revved his motor it sounded quite scary,
The light went green and his throttle he nailed;
Meanwhile I’m thinking “Man I hope I don’t get jailed”!
I gave him a car length then rolled on the throttle;
All pure motor, no boost or bottle,
The stang jumped, it snapped my neck back,
It appeared we were about to see who was the hack!
And I laughed when I passed him, in spite of myself;
and momma she grinned like Santa’s lil elf.
The rate at which we soon led, gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
After the race he spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
made all the excuses; then turned like a jerk,
giving me the finger as away he drove,
cursing and screaming down the highway he strove;
I sprang to my phone and, to the cops gave a whistle,
away flew all the ricers, like the down of a thistle.
But I heard them exclaim, ere they drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."
MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!