‘Twas the Night Before Finals

‘Twas the night before finals, when all through the school
Not a student was sleeping, not even the tools.
Their textbooks were strewn ‘cross the floor without care,
With hopes that the winter break soon would be theirs.

The CS kids nestled, all snug in the cluster,
While Dietrich was typing as fast as they’d muster.
And Mellon with his dead eyes, Carnegie with his heart,
Had just settled in to watch all fall apart.

When out on the Cut there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my dorm to see what was the matter,
Away to the Fence I then flew like a buggy,
Wearing naught but my sweatpants, a shirt, and my Snuggie.

The caffeine in my heart and my sleep-deprived mind
Gave the luster of bad acid trips to my find.
For, what should my wondering eyes then have brought me,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny Scotties.

With a little old driver, so wasted on kegging,
I knew in a moment it must be Carnegie.
More rapid than eagles his colleges came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

“Now, Dietrich! Now, Tepper! Now, Purnell and CIT!
On, Heinz! On, Mellon! On, Donner and Mechies!
To the top of the Cut! To the top of the spire!
Now, dash away! Dash away! Dash away, higher!”

As dry leaves before Sandy hurricanes fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, Walk to the Sky.
So up to the statue the courses they flew,
With the sleigh full of finals, and Carnegie, too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard atop Hunt
The woofing and pawing of each doggy runt.
As I entered the building and turned right around,
Down the stairs sir Carnegie came with a bound.

He was dressed all in tartan, from toes to his ears,
And his clothes were all stained with his poor students’ tears.
A bundle of essays he’d flung on his back,
And he looked like a proctor just opening his pack.

His eyes, how they twinkled! So sadistic, so cruel!
It caused him such joy that we toiled in this school!
The sides of his mouth, oh how upwards they tapered,
And his beard was as white as a blank essay paper.

The stump of a bagpipe he held in his teeth,
Making sound like a yowling cat when he breathed.
He had a broad face, belly round like the moon,
That shook when he laughed and he said the word: SOON.

He was chubby and plump, an obnoxious old elf,
And I scowled when I saw him, in spite of myself.
A wink of his eye and expression, so shrewd,
Soon gave me to know that fuck, I was screwed.

He spoke only once with, “My heart’s in the work.”
While a student behind me said, “God, what a jerk!”
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
He nodded, then up the elevator he rose!

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle—
After taking a picture to be in the Thistle—
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight.
“Happy finals to all!” Ha, thought all, yeah right.

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