A reprint from a lazy sod:

All the ruction awoke me,
And I grabbed for my wrap,
And cantered downstairs
YEl;ling "What's all this crap?"

And there on the hearthstone,
A rubbing his jaw
(Which his fall had near broken)
Was a Santa-garbed Spaw!

He was round and tumescent
His big nose was glowing,
And through the red velvet
His erection was showing

But he hoisted his pants,
And he shifted his rig
To try and disguise it,
(Said his shorts were too big).

I was wholly in mystery!
What could be the skinny?
What had caused this arousal?
Then, I heard a faint whinny.

While Spaw looked embarassed,
And muttered "Aw, fuck"
I heard reindeer calling!
"Come on back, laddy-buck!"

"Come back to your Donder
And back to your Blitzen!
Lets be making der thunder
And bringing on spritzen!

There's no use just hiding
In that chimney below,
'Cause you aint getting home
Without us'ns, ya know!"

"Come make us all happy!
Or at least give a try!
'Cuz if you won't be our daddy,
We sure as hell will not fly!"

Spaw just look embarassed
His red cheeks were beaming,
For he knew I'd discovered
His bestial leaning.

And as for his tackle,
In this embarassing pass,
It had lost half its volume,
And most of its mass.

So he made his excuses,
Said "Look -- I must go!"
And he turned to the chimney
With a "Ho, fucking Ho!"

But I heard him addressing
Those reindeer so handy,
Yelling "Down, with you, Blitzen!
Jayzus Keerist, but you're randy!"

And the last thing he said,
As he flew out of sight,
Was "Joyous Damn Noel --
I will not last the night!"

Oliver Sensemilaa Holmquist III
The True Story of Christmas
Playboy Publications, 1992