December 21, 2007

When Lawyers Write Christmas Stories

Hat Tip: TG

“Twas the Night……”

‘Twas the nocturnal segment of the diurnal period preceding the annual Northern Europe winter solstice celebration, and throughout our habitat, kinetic activity was not in evidence among the possessors of this potential energy, including that species of Mus musculs. Podiatrical outer protective covering was precisely suspended from the forward edge of the phloem and xylem combusting chamber, pursuant to our anticipatory pleasure regarding an imminent visitation from an eccentric philanthropist among whose folkloric appellations is the honorific title of St. Nicholas or Father Christmas or Kris Kringle.

The prepubescent siblings, comfortably ensconced in the prone position in their respective homonid nesting areas, were experiencing subconscious visual hallucinations of varigated fruit confections moving rhythmically through their cerebral cortex. My conjugal mammalian nest mate and I, attired in our nocturnal cephalic coverings, were about to take slumberous advantage of the hibernal darkness when upon the avenaceous exterior portion of the terra firma there ascended such a cacophony of dissonance that I felt compelled to rise to a bipedal position with alacrity from my place of repose for the purpose of ascertaining the precise source thereof.

Hastening to the casement, I forthwith opened the barriers sealing this fenestration, noting thereupon that the lunar brillance without, reflected as it was on the surface of a recent crystalline precipitation, might be said to rival that of the solar meridian itself – thus permitting my incredulous optical sensory organs to behold a minature airborne, gravity defying, friction reducing runnered conveyance drawn by eight diminutive species of Rangifer, piloted by a miniscule, aged bipedal chauffer so ebullient and nimble that it became instantly apparent to me that he was indeed our anticipated caller. With his ungulate motive power travelling at what may possibly have been more vertiginous velocity than patriotic alar predators, he vociferated in wavelengths shorter than normal, expelled breath musically through contracted labia, and addressedd each of the octet by his or her respective cognomen – “Now Dasher, now dancer…” et al. – guiding them to the uppermost exterior level of our abode, through which structure I could readily distinguish the concatenations of each of the 32 cloven pedal extremities.

As I retracted my cranium from its erstwhile location, and was performinga 180-degree pivot, our distinguished visitant achieved- with utmost celerity and via a downward leap – entry by way of the thermal dispensing combustion chamber. He was clad entirely in post mortem mammalian epidermis soiled by the ebony residue from oxidations of carboniferous fuels which had accumulated on the chamber walls thereof. His resemblance to a street vendor I attributed largely to the plethora of assorted playthings which he bore dorsally in a commdious cloth receptacle.

His orbs were scintillant with reflected luminosity, while submaxillary dermal indentations gave every evidence of engaging amiability. The capillaries of this malar regions and nasal appurtenance were engorged with blood which suffused the subcutaneous layers, the former approximating the coloration of Albion’s floral emblem, the latter that of the Prunus avium, or sweet cherry. His amusing sub- and supralabials resembled nothing so much as a common loop knot, and their ambient hirsute facial adornment appeared like small, tabular and columnar crystals of frozen dihydrogen oxide.

Clenched firmly between his incisors was a smoking piece whose grey fume vapors, forming a tenuous ellipse about his occiput, were suggestive of a decorative seasonal circlet of holly. His visage was wider than it was high, and when he waxed audibly mirthful, his corpulent abdominal region undulated in the manner of imprectinated fruit syrup in a hemispherical container. He was, in short, neither more no less than an obese, jocun, multigenarian gnome, or to be politically correct vertically challenged , the optical perception of who rendered me bisibly frolicsome despite every effort to refrain from so being. By rapidly lowering and then elevating one eyelid and rotating his cephalic region slightly to one side, he indicated that trepidation on my part was groundless.

Without utterance and with dispatch, he commenced filling the aforementioned appended
podiatrical outer protective covering with various of the aforementioned articles of merchandise extracted from his aforementioned previously dorsally transported cloth receptacle. Upon completion of this task, he executed an abrupt about- face, placed a single manual digit in lateral juxtaposition to his olfactory organ, inclined his cranium forward in a gesture of leave-taking, and forthwith effected his egress by renegotiating (in reverse) the dead plant matter combustion chamber. He then propelled himself in a short vector onto his conveyance, directed a musical expulsion of air through his contracted oral sphincter to the antlered quadrupeds of burden, and proceeded to soar aloft in a movement hitherto observable chiefly among the seed-bearing portions of a common weed. But I overheard his parting exclamation, audible immediately prior to his vehiculation beyond the limits of visibility: “Ecstatice Yuletide to the planetary constituency, and to that self same assemblage, my sincerest wishing for a salubriously beneficial and gratifyingly pleasurable crepuscular period.”

No comments: