Subject: 'Twas The Night of the
Capture!
'Twas 13th December, when deep in Iraq,
the 4th I.D. had a big enemy to track.
Saddam's stockings were smelly from months on the
lam,
In hopes that Dean or Kerry would soon take
command.
Our soldiers were nestled in their desert humvees,
they'd been told they were hunting Iraqi V.I.Ps.
And Saddam with head lice infesting his cap,
Had just settled down for an Iraqi-type nap.
When out on the farm there arose such a clatter,
He sprang from his shack to see what was the
matter.
Away to his hideout he flew in a snit,
Tore open his pants leaping into the pit.
The searchlight on the dictator now caught in our
snare,
Gave the lustre of mid-day to his nasty wild hair.
When, what to our soldiers' wide eyes should
appear,
But a bedraggled old dictator cowering in fear!
Beneath the dirty old beard and the lice in his mane,
They were amazed to discover that it was Saddam
Hussein.
More rapid than eagles they called up old Rummy,
And he whistled, and shouted, and said,
"This is yummy!"
"Now, Condi! now, Sanchez! now, Cheney and
Bush!
On, TV! on Radio! and Free Republic! Let's Rush!
To the top of the news! Get this video on!
Call FNC first! Then Dan Rather and Tom!
As a gloved doctor examined the smelly old goat,
he shoved a big wooden stick down Saddam's nasty
throat.
Around the world in a flash the footage it flew,
As the French and Russians gulped, wondering what
we now knew.
And then, in a twinkling, we heard from our
leader
as he confirmed the capture of the despotic
bottom feeder.
As he concluded his announcement, they replayed
the scene,
(We've heard nothing from Clark and nothing from
Dean).
Saddam was covered in filth, from his head to his
foot,
And his clothes were all greasy, with ashes and
soot.
A bundle of money he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler who'd sold out to
Chirac.
His eyes-how they sagged! his dimples now pits!
His forehead was covered with curious zits!
His head was examined for vermin and lice,
shaved his face of the beard that was his
disguise.
A large piece of wood was probed in his mouth,
(And we don't even know if the gloved hand went
South).
He still had a fat face but had lost his round
belly,
His clothes were a shambles and his feet
downright smelly.
He was skinny and drawn, the lying old coward,
And I laughed when I thought of the speech made
by Howard;
But the spin of the media and a liberal talking
head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
Dean spoke not a word; Kerry went straight to
work,
And tried to get airtime (sounds just like the
jerk).
Bush kept it short, not given to prose,
And giving a nod, up the polls he rose.
He sprang back to work, to his team gave a
whistle,
And to D.C. they flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim,
as he went on his way,
"Happy Christmas to all,
and God Bless the USA!"
-- Unknown
