Santa Didn’t Read the Letters

'Twas Christmas Eve, the house was still,
Jane and Tim plotted their vengeance with skill.
For Santa had failed, and the kids were upset,
Their dreams turned to ashes they’d never forget.

Jane had asked for a pony, sleek and refined,
But got socks with glitter, was Santa out of his mind?
Tim begged for a bike, a two-wheeled dream,
Instead, he unwrapped some socks and nose  cream.

“What is this nonsense?” Jane cried in despair.
“Does Santa think this will show he cares?”
“He’s lazy or blind,” Tim said with a sneer,
“We’ll make him regret flying down here!”

The plan was devised with cunning and care,
To catch the old man in his festive lair.
“We’ll trap him with tinsel and trip up his boots,
Then we’ll see how he likes a good kick to the fruits!”

“And the reindeer,” said Jane, “we’ll set them all free!
Let Dasher and Dancer trample the tree.
Then we’ll warn all the parents this Santa’s a freak,
Making kids sit on his lap every year week after week!”

The clock struck twelve, and they heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of reindeer hooves.
“Quick, grab the rope!” Jane whispered with glee.
“This is the end for that Christmas creep!”

Down came St. Nick, all jolly and stout,
But Tim’s tripwire sent him spinning about.
He landed hard with a jingle and groans,
Dropping his sack like a bag of old bones.

“What’s this?” Santa gasped, his face turning red,
As Jane loomed above him and firmly then said:
“You didn’t read letters, you lazy old goat!
Now prepare to pay the price, this is not up for vote!”

With one swift motion, Tim swung his small boot,
And delivered a strike to Santa’s jolly pursuit.
The big man winced, his face full of woe,
As Jane set the reindeer loose in the snow.

“We’re done with your games!” the siblings both cried.
“No more bad gifts, no more sleigh rides!
Tell the elves to do better or don’t even start,
Next year we’re asking for Amazon carts!”

Santa retreated, his pride sorely bruised,
While the reindeer fled, looking quite amused.
And from that night on, it’s a tale often said:
Don’t cross Jane and Tim or you’ll wish you were dead!