Here is my garbled poem based on Clement Clarke Moore's Twas the night before Xmas.
Twas the night before Xmas and all through the house,
not a creature was stirring not even a mouse.
Emma hung out her stockings by the chimney with care,
in the hope old St Nick soon would be there.
She dozed on the sofa, tried to catch Santa out;
while visions of presents danced in the air.
A clatter from the Chimney a noise like no other,
Santa appeared before her, with out any bother.
"I only give presents to good girls and boys, you tried to catch me delivering your toys!"
"Now naughty girls should be punished not heard", so in her mouth thrust a latex ball, he tied Emma in tinsel and she fell into the hall.
"You should have been good like Peter asleep,
now I have to spank you, and make you weep."
He fondled her buttocks and pulled down her pants, he whipped at her buttocks as she kicked her feet.
She hated Santa now the bloody big creep!
Bound and gagged, she lay punished on the floor;
she had her fantastic present, she would be naughty some more . . . .