Not actual SantaHad just settled my brain for a long winter’s nap.
when, what to my wondering ears should hear,
but a miniature white pickup, and not a single rein-deer,
with a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
I reaches for my pistol, but he had me out gunned,
with four of his on I decided to run.