Lines Writ at Med School, Pt 2: Greek Santa

Twas the night before Wednesday, when all through the homestead
Only Tom was still stirring, although quite exhausted.
His assignments were studied for hours with care,
In hopes that Friday soon would be there.

Normal people were all nestled, snug in their beds,
While visions of Kelly Monaco danced in their heads.
And good ol' Dad dozed in his old lazy boy,
After watching the Yankees win again with great joy.

When back on the deck there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and whipped out my gat.

All that I saw was our newly-built stoop
Built by a swarthy fellow often reeking of poop.
And just when I thought that I had gone spastic,
I glimpsed a tall stack of cd's, all tied up in plastic.

Who left this for me? Who on earth would do this?
Then I figured it was Louie Mavroudis.
Swung in from Viacom, in the dead of the night,
He burned me a whole bunch of music, then went home for a bite.

"Of Misfits! Mastodon! Judas Priest and Pitch Shifter!
Seether, Avenged Sevenfold, and even some Slayer!
From the depths of the '80s to contemporary metal,
He gave me a collection, on nothing less would he settle.

As the Scorpions rock you like a wild hurricane fly,
Or as Hetfield encourages you, to take a look to the sky.
So up to the casa the van it did flew,
With the bag full of Rock, and Louie Mavs, too.

And then, in a twinkling, I smelled on my deck,
The tell-tale aroma of his usual cigarette.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney good ol' Louie came with a bound.

He was dressed all in leather from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bunched up denim jacket, was now practically black.
Covered in dust, he tried to breathe with a hack.

His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples not at all saggy!
My description of him, I'm decidedly faggy!
His big goofy grin, he viewed all the rubble,
And the goatee on his chin, made all of stubble.

The butt of a ciggy 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 bowlful of jelly!

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!
Oh wait, that's me... in the mirror I'd looked,
I really shouldn't have eaten all that pasta I'd cooked..

I asked him why he came through the chimney like that,
So scared I was, in my pants almost shat.
But he then stuck his finger inside of his nose,
Flicked me a booger, which fell on my toes!

He ran out to his van, to my neighbors gave the finger,
And the Greek disappeared like the Guns'n'Roses singer.
Before he was gone, I thought I heard him say,"
"Rock-on, motherfucker! I'll see you Sunday!"