How Suzanne Coffey Stole Christmas

grinch

Gather ‘round children, for it’s time you all hear,
How one frightful dame stole our holiday cheer.

‘Twas the one time of year to forget all our woes,
To toast life before essays for Franks and for Poes.

There we stood laughing, a pure joyful sight,
Drinking responsibly to start our safe night.

Meanwhile in an office, not too far away,
Coffey worked out her plan to ruin our day.

To Hitchcock she drove with a smile most unpleasant,
Scheming ill schemes ‘gainst the joy of the present.

Coming closer with cronies who came right behind,
Coffey crept up the stairs with this one goal in mind:

“I must crush the fun, oh how it’s awful!
I don’t even care if their glee is lawful!”

She walked through the dorm, tearing down paper and light–
Yes, Coffey took pleasure in her one form of might!

She then plotted to upset the most innocent of souls,
For unjust targeting is one of her main goals.

There she appeared, eyes looking crazed-
We were all speechless; we were truly amazed.

We then uttered, “Isn’t it late? Shouldn’t you be resting?”
To which she cried, “Be quiet, there’s no use protesting!”

Everyone remained still; this was really weird.
Coffey stood her ground too, hoping she was feared.

At last we asked, “Can you please give us but one safe space?”
She replied, “I swear to you all, this is not about race!”

And so we laughed, “You’d rather us join the Jenkins crowd?”
To which she squealed, “Just leave now! This isn’t allowed!”

And so we left glum, though not quite surprised.
This is Amherst, for God’s sake, not one thing goes unsupervised.

But more than anything we pity poor Suzanne-
Did she think she was useful, executing this plan?

Coffey, please know, that no matter what you say or think,
Students will continue to dance, sometimes to drink.

If anything your intrusion made us a little bit mad-
I mean, come on, our social life is already pretty bad!

And so children I urge you to please remain wary,
For Suzanne might appear anytime you feel merry.

Yes, at the end of the night, Coffey’s heart remained small-
And that, my friends, is the most tragic Christmas story of all.

 

 

Advertisements