‘‘Twas the night before fisa”

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‘‘Twas the night before fisa when all through the house not a creature was stirring, not even a louse.

The impeachment articles were hung by the chamber with care in hopes that Jerry Nadler soon would be there.

The democrats were nestled all smug in their beds, while visions of Chuck Todd interviews danced in their heads.

And Nancy with her polydent and AOC in her lap had just settled down for a Long winter’s nap.

When out on the roof there arose such a clatter, Adam sprang from the Standard to see what’s the matter. Away to the window he flew in a flash, to hide the dead body that was hidden in the bath.

The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow gave luster of midday to objects below.

When what to his wandering eyes did appear, but a Sikorsky and eight tiny birds all blacked out.

With a blonde headed driver, so lively and plump, he knew in a minute it must be Saint Trump. More rapid than B2s his soldiers they came and he whistled and shouted and called them by name

Now Collins Now Kansas
Now Jared and Ivanka,
On Jordan, on Nunes,
On Rudy and Sean
To the top of the Capitol building now fly away all!

As the dry leaves that before the Storm fly
When they meet with an obstacle and take to the sky.
So up to the Capitol the soldiers they flew
With a box full of indictments and BBarr2.

And then in a twinkling Adam heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As he drew in his head, his pencil neck tweaked
Down to the scif Saint Donald came with a bound.

He was all dressed in a suit with a tie that shimmered of gold,
On his wrist was a watch, chronograph in style,
His pocket held a pen, everyone knows.

His eyes how they twinkled and his dimples how merry,
His hair, like his phone call was completely perfect.
He spoke not a word, waved his hand in the form of a Q.
He filled all the judgeships without a delay

Adam gagged a little when he saw him, in spite of himself.
A wink of his eye and twist of his head let Adam know that this impeachment was now dead.

And laying a middle finger beside his nose, and giving a nod up the dome he rose.

He sprang to his Sea King,
To his team gave a whistle
And away they did fly like the down of a thistle.
And we all heard him exclaim as he flew out of sight
Happy FISA anons and
Jeffrey Epstein didn’t hang himself that good night!

Last Edited by docsquat on 12/08/2019 09:35 PM