‘Twas the week before New Year’s, and all through the car
Components were groaning, it couldn’t drive far.
The tow straps were hung by the work bench with care,
In hopes that new parts soon would be there.
The poor old engine had ran out of puff
With thick smoke billowing, it needed more than a buff.
The transmission was leaking, the engine misfired
Leaving me weeping, from these repairs I would tire.
When out on the lawn there arose a low rumble
So smoothly it sounded.
No roughness, no stumble.
“I envy that sound,” I said with a mumble.
Just as I’d feared, prognosis: not good.
When a deep voice behind me said "You did all you could."
As you can imagine, I turned mighty quick,
And there by my work bench, stood my old friend Nick!
A bundle of car parts strapped to his back,
He went to my work bench, and opened the sack.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to my ride,
And fixed it with love, horsepower and pride!
He started the engine and said with a smile,
"This car was worn out, it has been a while!
Enjoy your ride, all shiny and new,
For it's not very often that car dreams come true!"
Then his big block exploded with Flowmaster sound,
Nick dropped the clutch, the tires shredded the ground.
I heard him exclaim, as he blasted from sight,
“Merry Cruisemas to all, and to all a good night!”