as promised, christmas eve vs. the terrible cheese monster do not read during or near meals.
'twas the night before xmas and all through the house
not a wheaton was stirring or clicking a mouse,
save buck, who was perched o'er the porc'lin with care
with hopes that saint puking no longer'd be there.
flash back a few hours, 'fore the family dinner:
he'd done nothing wrong, didn't feel like a sinner
just sat by the fire in his christmas best
and forgotten that lactose he couldn't digest.
he'd had cheese and crackers with all of his kin
that appetized tummies for the coming din.
at least for his family it had that effect,
but for buck, our poor buck, well, his stomach was wreck'd!
for an hour or two, his guts they well held
but soon it was clear: the cheese must be expell'd!
and how could it go, but through those too holes
conveniently placed at his north and south poles?
such terrors! continuing straight through the night
untill christmas morning revealed it's first light.
his heart, it was full, but his body was hurting,
[and here i refuse to rhyme that line with 'squirting']
but christmas went on, the whole family together!
a sick, beaten man? no! he's tougher than leather!
and the last words we heard from this poor tired sap?
merry christmas to all, and now i need a nap!