In the midst of buying your own gifts for family and friends this holiday season, remember that the cops can just as easily seize your property, your rights and even your shark fins. Enjoy this Christmas classic: 'Twas the Night Raid Before Christmas.
'Twas the Night Raid Before Christmas
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through our home
Not a creature was stirring but CNN's gnome;
The stockings were hung by the family tree,
In hopes that St. Nick would come visit Philly.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds;
Except my wayward son, a sugar plum head;
With mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
He snuck to the porch and sold 40 bucks of smack.
Then out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Downstairs, to the entrance, I flew like a flash,
A yell of "Police!" and the front door was smashed;
When what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But cops with guns drawn, not a single rein-deer,
One arrested my son so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment he was not St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles, my house they did seize,
"How can you do this?" I pleaded from my knees.
"It's called civil forfeiture," bellowed the cop,
"I'll take what I want, and I'm not gonna stop."
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had so much to dread.
"In just Philly alone, in just 10 years' time,
One thousand private homes are now mine, all mine!"
The grip of a rifle he held tight beneath;
The laser sight circled my heart like a wreath.
His scope—how it twinkled! trained on my dog Thor,
He kicked out my family, padlocked our door.
"Loitering, jaywalking, BS traffic stops:
All excuses to rob you—'cuz we're the cops!
TVs, cash, cars galore: everything is fair game,"
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
Take church funds! Take shark fins! Take crosses, SUVs!
Buy Vipers! Buy hookers! Buy drones and Zambonis!
To the billions we seize! with no charges at all!
Now dash your hopes, dash your rights, dash away all!"
Then with that last word, he went straight to his work,
And stole all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a snort, he said "Sucks your son blows."
He sprang to his cruiser as his team he advised:
"The rest of our wish list, we'll seize from good guys!"
And I heard him exclaim, ere they drove out of sight–
"Happy Christmas to all. On to the next house tonight!"
Approximately 2:30
Written by Justin Monticello. Production by Monticello and Paul Detrick. Editing by Detrick. Voice over by Alex Manning. Illustrations by Jason Keisling.
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