'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Elon soon would be there.

The Green Car Reporters were sat at the desk,
Reading through comments and some were grotesque.
Voelcker the editor, and I in a flap,
We'd criticized Tesla and were taking the rap.

"We like the car really" we said in defense,
"But all that we say is but mere common sense".
"A comment on finance, a word about sales,
Makes people think that we want them to fail."

"Further from truth those words could not be,
We simply analyze, report what we see.
If they do well then we'll dole out the praise,
But a single bad word and you hound us for days!"

But hunched at the desk, as our weariness grows,
A car is approaching, outside in the snow.
Could it be Santa, as we raise our heads?
The vehicle's too quiet, sleek low and red.

With a well-tailored driver, so lively and quick,
There's no way at all that it's jolly St Nick.
A figure looks out, to the snow and the dusk,
Our suspicions confirmed, for it's Elon Musk.

He steps from the Tesla, Model S say the tags,
Then opens the Frunk, and picks out two bags.
Musk walks up the pathway, a spring in his gait,
Why has he come to our humble estate?

A knock on the door set our heart rates aflutter,
John went to answer while I hid our clutter.
In walked dear Elon, a bag to each side,
Saw our computers, and smiled as he sighed.

"I see you're both having a small spot of trouble,
So I hopped in my car and drove 'round at the double.
I've brought you some presents, on this Christmas eve,
A gift of such kindness you'll scarcely believe."

He picked from each bag a chain and a key,
"Model S" said the fob, in the light of the tree.
"For your kindness and truth, I have to confess,
I'm bringing you both a brand new Model S."

Our faces astounded he shot us a smile,
"Performance" he said, "range of three hundred miles"
And with that he turned 'round, headed back to the snow,
Our old weary faces now renewed with a glow.

He sprang to his Tesla, set off down the road,
But before disappearing, his electric car slowed.
And we heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"


[With our regards, and perhaps apologies, to Clement Moore...]



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