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Twas the night before Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas

Some might remember when Model X was due and it looked like St. Elon might be delivering...soon.
Here is was my contribution;

And if I get a round tuit I might just update for Model 3.
Unless someone else wants to...?

But as your resident Playwright and Poet, maybe I will. But maybe I won't to.

Anyway, this was the situation for Models X in 2015.
I think Triggerpls was getting a hat.

'Twas the Night Before X-Mass, St. Elon and more, a poem for all about Xes in store
Submitted by Ross1 on October 31, 2015
An original work by Ross (copyright)

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a louse;
The stockings were hung by the meter with care,
In hopes that St. Elon "soon" would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds;
While visions of wing doors danced in their heads;
And mom on facebook and I in my forum,
Had settled our diff'rences with polite decorum,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave a lustre of aluminium to objects below,
As LED headlights lit up my yard
Could Elon be here , no that’s way too hard!
When what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But a new Model X and eight tiny KIA,
Happy as Larry it all fell into place
I had Tesla- grinnin’ all over my face.
With a well-known driver so lively and brusque,
I knew in a moment he must be St. Musk.
More rapid than rockets his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
"Now, Roadster! now, Solar, now Falcon 9 rocket!
On, Mars! , Model S and the Three in the pocket!
On Apple, on Google, I’ve opened the patents
To Mercedes, and China and VW latents:
To Volvo and Nissan, competition is good,
Electric revolution turns oil to wood.
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! burnouts! to the SC all!"
Autopilot let loose, the falcon wings fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
Autonomous flying, a pic somewhat futurely
Which arrived tonight for my wife and yours truly.
So up to the housetop the flightpaths they flew
With the sleigh full of options, and St. Elon Musk too—
And then, in a twinkling, I heard from the motor
The prancing and pawing of each big old rotor.
He said P90D and all wheel drive,
Second row folding we should all jive.
Ludicrous mode with coathooks and cupholders
Was more than deserved by us poor old dears.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Musk came with a bound.
He was dressed all in Tesla gear from the shop,
From his head to his foot, and on his topknot
A cap for me and T-shirt for missus,
And his clothes were gifts for kids who wash dishes.
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a pedaller opening his back pack.
An analog clock and customisable dash,
Things we just dreamed of: Things of our lust;
iPhone compatible and forum thread list,
This was the night not to be missed.
His eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
My wife’s open mouth he offered to kiss ,
The shape of the grille on the front of the X
The stump of exhaust pipe he held in his teeth,
And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath;
He said you won’t need this, never no more.
He had ripped from my ICE it must have been sore
Because ICE not ever , not again, no more,
Pollution is now history you know,
And Elon’s ego was fairly aglow.
Now you’re electric for ever and yore.
He had a nice face and a little round belly
From sitting too long in front of the telly.
How he has time I will never know;
Like with SpaceX and Solar to go.
Wind worn I’m sure from surfing the sky
In England somewhere nearer July.
He shook when he laughed, like a tank full of diesel.
He hummed and he ha’d, he made for the easel,
To tell us all why he always says “soon”
To all that he makes for king or for hoon.
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of him late;
I have my X now, right at the gate.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke no more word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving the digits, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his rocket, to his team gave a “YES!",
And away they all flew like a SuperCharged S.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight—
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”
“I’ve got to be going if I think I will ever
Take six thousand Xes for fourth quarter figures
To all you investors and drivers galore
A happy X-Mass and “soon", Model 3 in the store!"

Apologies to Clement Clarke Moore
A Visit from St. Nicholas
BY CLEMENT CLARKE MOORE
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/171924

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds;
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave a lustre of midday to objects below,
When what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny rein-deer,
With a little old driver so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment he must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the housetop the coursers they flew
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too—
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a pedler just opening his pack.
His eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly
That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight—
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”

mntlvr23 | 18/12/2017

Niiiiice

Bluesday Afternoon | 18/12/2017
Ross1 | 19/12/2017

No need to hijack this thread was there?