‘Twas the night before Sheetmas

‘Twas the night before Sheetmas when all through the newsroom
Not a writer was typing, not one word of gloom.
The papers were delivered to the boxes with care,
In hopes that the Fifty would fail to be there.

The staff were nestled all snug at their desks
While visions of headlines made themselves pests.
And Wolf in his ‘kerchief, a lady on his lap,
Had just settled his brain for an evening nightcap.

When outside of the office there arose such a clatter
Geisel sprang from his MacBook to see what was the matter.
Away to the wires he flew like a flash,
Updated his Facebook and took out the trash.

The ads on the books of the next paper’s layout
Gave the luster of income, writers hoped for a payout.
When what to their wondering wallets should appear
But a miniature checkbook and eight cases of beer.

With a crazed looking bearer, his temper in a bunch
They knew in a moment it must be Jack Lunch.
More rapid than eagles his page two comments they came,
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name!

Now taxeaters, now naysayers, now doubters and posers!
On critics! On advocates! Now give us disclosure!
To the top of the masthead! To the top of the page!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away in rage!

As dry as the wit of a Tosh.O clip
He took the wheel of the office like a fast sinking ship.
Lunch and his Sheet crew to the presses they flew
With their pens full of stories and a few photos, too.

And then in a twinkling Kirkner heard on the roof
The prancing and whining of a news story spoof.
As she drew in her thoughts and was just sitting down
Through the doorway misinformation came with a bound.

It was dressed up real fancy from its lede to its ending
Hoping no one would notice while it began trending.
A pack full of lies it had bundled within
So staff began editing, afraid of chagrin.

The sparks from their keyboards were never so merry
Except when Steve Searles showed dressed as Jim Carrey.
Droll little comments escaped a few lips
Deadline was coming, they needed more tips.

The stump of a pen cap Lunch held tight in his teeth
While a waylay of questions encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad outline, a vision so grand
Getting truth to the people would be everyone’s stand.

Some may not like it, reality packs quite a punch
But that danger was nothing for feisty Jack Lunch.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Let staff know they had nothing to dread.

They spoke not a word but continued their work
And filled all the pages then turned with a jerk.
And laying their laptops aside for the evening
They knew what they sought had been well worth achieving.

Truth in their words sat them back with a whistle
And the misinformation was removed like a thistle.
Passersby could hear them exclaim as they powered down for the night
Happy reading to all, don’t let the words give you fright!

Editor’s note: Until this moment, I had no idea that Kirkner had applied for a Medical Marijuana card. – Lunch