
'Twas a fortnight 'fore
Macworld, and all of the geeks
Were beside themselves, waiting another two weeks
The tickets were purchased, the hotels all booked
And the
six-color cookies were thoroughly cooked.
The bloggers had worked themselves into a stew
Over who'd gotten
heisted by Phillip Ryu.And I and the wife, having downed our eggnog,
Were settling down for a midwinter
snog snuggle.
When up in the crawlspace there rose such a din
I feared that our leaky old roof would cave in.
I ran to my laptop to figure out why
Via full-motion vid and
SecuritySpy.With compression artifacts clouding my view
I knew there was somebody up there -- but who?
I saw someone slender, lurking in the back
Dressed up in... what looked like a turtleneck -- black.
"Why, dear," I said suddenly, "would you believe,
That our midnight marauder is really
Fake Steve?"
And that faux chief executive gave us a smile
And proceeded to polish his glasses awhile.
I shook my head once just to clear out the fog
Was I hallucinating? Perhaps from the 'nog?
Fake Steve gave a yell, "Don't sit there like a lump!
Just tell them all they can read more past the jump."