'Twas the night before Christmas and there on the can. Sat a drunken, dejected, poopless old man. The Ex-Lax had been taken, hours before bed. In hopes that the turtle would rear his brown head. Then up from the bowl there arose such a splatter! I sprang from the seat to see what was the matter! And what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a brown fecal flounder, swimming in recycled beer. "At last I have shit!" I screamed at the wall. Then flush away, flush away, flush away all. I could now settle down to a long winter's nap. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good crap!