Reloaders Christmas

CA CCWInstructor

New member
Twas the night before Christmas, cold, dark, and foreboding,

as I sat at the work bench, quite busy reloading.

The empties from autumn were polished so clear

for primers and powder, and bullets from Speer

and Hornady's soft-points, and Nosler's Partitions.

My bench ain't no place for brand name omissions!

All sat in their boxes, right next to the press

with dies from Hornady, and RCBS.



When all of a sudden there came such a jolt,

I grabbed for my old 16, and whipped out my Colt.

As I spilled IMR powder all over the shelf

I scrambled for cover, just to protect myself.

>From up on the rooftop, came hoof beats and snorting

like the noise out of L'il Rock, from Clinton's cavorting!!



I eased off the safety, to press-check my auto

with 230-Hardball, I'd knock 'em all blotto.

Were these federal agents, sent by Schumer and Reno?

Or a staggering Ted Kennedy, in bad need of vino?

My question was answered with a knock, and some sneezing,

"It's Santa, you moron, lemme in there, I'm freezing!!"



I flipped off the dead-bolt and threw the door wide,

to find St. Nick a'shivering, Rudolph by his side.

He eyeballed my Colt, with a nod of approval

"You're all set," he said," for dirtball removal."

"But this is no raid, we're not here to harm you

or persecute, prosecute, or even disarm you."

Instead said dear Santa, he needed to borrow

my 41 magnum 'til day after tomorrow.



" It's OK," he assured me, with a hint of frustration,

I'm enrolled in the National Rifle Association"

He showed me his card, 'twas a Life Member rating

"I've had this since me and the missus were dating!!

And you see, Bernard ol' buddy, I've gotten real nervous

since Feinstein was elected, with a promise to serve us.



So henceforth as I'm out there, my presents a'stackin'

I want to assure you, I'm legally packin'.

And my gift to you this year, should give you a hoot

I've told the Supreme Court to give Brady the boot!

Now, Rudy and I must be on our way"

he said, as he climbed back on the seat if his sleigh.

With the reins in his hands, and my Ruger in his pocket

He jingled the sleighbells and was off like a rocket.



With a pair of speedloaders, and ammo to spare

I knew he'd be safe, he was loaded for bear.

As he faded from view, I could hear him calling,

"From D.C., where P.C. is already falling

to bad guys in L.A., Detroit, and Atlanta:

I'm licensed to carry. Don't be messin' with Santa!!!!"
 
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