{"sf1_id":1400158,"sf2_id":"rn6GvqR1","title":"The Ballad Of Drunken Santa","author":"Mantrid_Brizon","words":547,"posted_at":"2018-12-25T22:28:00.000Z","tags":["Anthro","Comedy","Drinking","Drunk","Magic","Poem","Poetry","Police","Prison","Reindeer","Rhyme","Santa","Santa Clause","Story","cop","furry"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1400158-the-ballad-of-drunken-santa","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/rn6GvqR1","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/79/00/790043fc-6a0a-4063-819d-4ef2e0d94c4d","description":"#24 of Poetry\n\nAnother poem I whipped up because I had an amusing thought. A police officer works Christmas Eve only to arrest a man and his companions, but what are the consequences of simply doing his job?","content":"The Ballad Of Drunken Santa\n\n(12/25/2018)\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nLate at night one Christmas Eve,\n\nI brush the dust off of my sleeve,\n\nButton up the navy blues,\n\nA uniform worn by the few,\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nHolster gun and grab my keys,\n\nStep into the frigid breeze,\n\nDriving in my black and white\n\nI see a most amusing sight,\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nStumbling out from a bar,\n\nA fat man walks up to his car,\n\nPainted green with trim of brass,\n\nConvertible of exquisite class,\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nSeveral more stumble and sneer,\n\nAll are dressed like reindeer,\n\nWith beard of white and suit of red,\n\nHe wishes the bartender dead,\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nWith hand held high bartender waves,\n\nIt is I who'll save the day,\n\nPulling through the deepening snow,\n\nIlluminated by a glow,\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nNeon sign above their heads,\n\nDrunken Santa brushes off his threads,\n\nSlurs his words and barks at me,\n\n\"There'll be nothing under your tree!\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nHe struggles and causes a show,\n\nI call out on my radio,\n\nBackup comes to help me clear,\n\nVan packs in the reindeer,\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nClick the cuffs and toss him in,\n\nShut the door on their kingpin,\n\nBack of my car sags in the snow,\n\nCan't help but laugh at the man of dough,\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nDriving to the police station,\n\nOne of many in the nation,\n\nI park the car and grab the man,\n\nHis eyes are wide and slowly scan,\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nWith the drunks he takes a bench,\n\nHis reindeer gang have quite the stench,\n\nAfter Christmas a judge he'll see,\n\nBut for now this is where he'll be,\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nI work my shift like loyal gnome,\n\nLate at night I'm heading home,\n\nStep inside the living room,\n\nMy house is quiet as a tomb,\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nHorror pulls eyelids apart,\n\nA sinking feeling in my heart,\n\nUnder the tree is nothing there,\n\nPresents are gone and floor is bare,\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nWife comes down to my chagrin,\n\nJoy falls like the wall of Berlin,\n\nCheck the house for nefarious men,\n\nBut none have invaded our den,\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nI share with her the tale of morn,\n\nQuickly suffering her scorn,\n\n\"You arrested Santa Clause?!\"\n\nAngry words stream from her jaws,\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"I did my job! He broke the law!\"\n\n\"Patrons were grabbed by drunken paws!\"\n\nShe shook her head and stomped a foot,\n\nOur pleasant Christmas now caput,\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nGrabbed my keys, run out the door,\n\nI've been shaken too the core,\n\nCould he have been the real deal?\n\nOr a shabby suit dressed for appeal?\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nAfter a drive I'm at the jail,\n\nA fog shrouds it like wedding veil,\n\nInto the tank I quickly check,\n\nShock and horror cranes my neck,\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nFat man and gang no longer there,\n\nSeveral benches sitting bare,\n\nOther drunks and homeless bums,\n\nShout and yell and beat the drums,\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nHuddled together like sewer rats,\n\nThey tell us they know all of the facts,\n\nVanished in a blinding light,\n\nSanta Clause was quite the sight,\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nAll wear coats fresh off the rack,\n\nSurely they'd trade it for smack,\n\nBut kind was the fat drunken man,\n\nGifts he gave before they ran,\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nCameras that don't show anything,\n\nNot even food did the guards bring,\n\nI cannot help but laugh at this,\n\nAnother story for next Christmas.\n\n  \n  \n\n","series":{"name":"Poetry","previous":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1400016-michigan-winter.json","next":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1419779-monster-veil.json"}}