'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the bus,
Not a creature was speeding, not even us;
The explosives were hung by the gas tank with care,
In hopes that Keanu soon would be there;
Dennis Hopper was nestled all snug in his bed,
While dreams of retirement danced in his head
And Sandra in her 'kerchief, and Ortiz in his cap,
Had narrowly avoided a longshoreman's nap,
When out on the freeway there arose such a clatter,
Jack sprang from his coffee to see to the matter.
Away to the payphone he flew like a flash,
"Pop quiz hotshot, now give me some cash."
He sprang to his cruiser, blew Jeff Daniels a whistle,
And away they all flew like the heat of a missile.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
MERRY SPEEDMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD-NIGHT!
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PS. Check out Dave's CSI bomb squad photo, and don't forget to watch Orson Welle's F FOR FAKE on FilmStruck for our next episode coming in early January!
