'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the store,
lots of people were shopping for one item more.
The doors were all locked, the lights at half-mast,
with hopes that employees could go home at last.
Our families were home, all filled with dread,
for we're two hours later than we originally said.
Jon with a shotgun and Rob with a bat,
were asking late shoppers to give up and scat.
When near the back register, there arose such a clatter,
employees were running to see what was the matter.
A lady with cart, her cheeks flushed with stress,
had wrestled a float tube from its upper shelf rest.
She'd took three steps backward, then finally tripped,
now the wall with the fly lines was totally stripped.
We hoped that her backside was not hurt too bad,
she paid for the purchase, but wow, was she mad.
Some helped her and tube out the back door,
while Ron and I searched for anyone more.
Then a voice o'er the intercom finally broke in,
"Home sales, home cashiers, home women and men.
Eat food, open presents, and tomorrow sleep in.
Drink eggnog, watch football and rest up my friend.
We'll see you in two days, all happy and bright.
Don't be late - we open at dawns early light." ~ Al Campbell