The Homeless Guy

 
Fred and Bess greeted us at the door.
I wondered if Bess was a pleasing whore.
Cratchit chirped in: This is Jim.
Under a bridge is where we found him.
He’s our token homeless guy.
We cleaned him up so he wouldn’t offend your turkey and pumpkin pie.

The other guests were already there eating cheese and drinking wine.
I asked Scrooge if there were any loose women there to dine.
Cratchit whispered to Ebenezer that perhaps they had made a mistake selecting me this year.
What about your wife, Bob? Give me a shot at Martha, she’s a brood mare.

Fred announced that dinner was served.
Table conversation was merry at first then revolved around what all people deserved:
A full belly, decent clothes and a roof over their heads.
Why not invite us to live with all of you, you’ve got big houses, that’s how many beds?
All the dinner guests stopped eating and talking and looked at me.
What?  No more table scraps for humanity?
You ungrateful wretch, Bob Cratchit chirped in.  Ebenezer and I appologize to you, Fred, for bringing him to your house.
Oh, Bob Cratchit, you obsequious mouse. 
I turned to the busty woman on my right:
Nice rack, honey, how about you and I stepping out into the night?
You're incorrigible, Sir.  You're nothing more than a gutter snipe.
Bridge snipe, I corrected her.  Are you saying I'm not your type?
Talking such rubbage, and on Christmas Day!
Is that a definite nay?

Fred stood up:  How dare you denigrate our women and blasphemize our Christmas cheer!
Fred, let me be clear:
We homeless are in the millions.  If you don't give, we'll take (if only I had the muscle) this you will know--
Then everyone at the table jumped me and threw me out in the snow.
Well, everyone except one.
Tiny Tim was still inside and I heard him say, "And God bless us everyone."