'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the list
Not a keyboard was clicking, not even Chris';
The vacation responders were worded with care,
In hopes that more clients soon would be there.
The staff were off work, all snug in their beds,
While visions of bonuses danced in their heads;
And Bob in his cubicle, Matt on his new chair,
Had both settled down with a book on Carl Dair.
When then on the list there arose an uproar,
What? Another spec contest? What for?
Back to the keyboards we all flew like a bat,
Caustic email was flying this way and that.
This is an outrage we all seemed to glow;
How COULD that company stoop so low,
On Rick! On Bruce! On Jon and Miles!
Carry the torch of ethical trials!
I heard it land in my box with a bound,
The collective sighs of everyone around;
With a sled full of reasons why spec is bad,
We all had many, and many we had;
Tar and feather them with ashes and soot;
Don't miss a spot, get 'em from head to foot.
The thread lasted long - check the archive, yes?
In fact longer than flames on a rebranded UPS;
But after some nog mixed with Jello,
Things settled down and got right mellow;
Back to the usual guffaws and prose;
We discover indeed that JS knows.
So giving a click we all shut them down,
Our laptops, desktops, iPads and iPhone;
And we exclaim as we tweet our last tweet,
Happy Listmas to all, you're all pretty sweet!