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It's a programmers kind of christmas

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  • It's a programmers kind of christmas

    'Twas the night before installation,
    And all through the shop,
    Not a program was working,
    It sure was a flop.
    The programmers hung by their tubes in despair,
    In hope that a miracle soon would be there.

    The users were nestled all snug in their beds
    While visions of inquiries danced in their heads.
    When out in the hall there arose such a clatter
    I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter.
    And what to my wondering eyes should appear,
    But a Super-Programmer (with a six-pack of beer).

    His resume glowed with experience so rare,
    He turned out great code with a bit-pusher's flair.
    More rapid than eagles, his programs they came,
    And he whistled and shouted and called them by name:
    On Update! On Add! On Inquiry! On Delete!
    On Batch! On Closing! On Functions Complete!

    His eyes were glazed over, fingers nimble and lean,
    From weekends and nights in front of a screen.
    A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
    Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

    He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
    Turning specs into code; then turned with a jerk,
    And laying a finger upon the "Enter" key,
    The system came up and worked perfectly.

    The Updates updated, the Deletes, they deleted;
    The inquiries inquired, and Closing completed.
    He tested each whistle and each bell,
    with nary an abend, and all had gone well.

    The system was finished, the tests were concluded;
    The users' last changes were even included.
    And the users exclaimed with a snarl and a taunt,
    "It's just what I asked for, but not what I want!"