'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, except the psycho bitch on the couch.
I looked pleadingly to my girl, her face fury red
While visions of me and the Doublemint twins danced in her head.
With bile in my throat and no help in sight, I puy on a smile and my sphincter got tight.
"This is Rudolph," I thought, and turned to argue my case,
but I must've had a "what's your problem, bitch" look, 'cause she punched me in the face.
I picked up her $300 Pradas, the left and right shoe,
and into the street, both shoes I threw.
Out the front door she went, in hot pursuit,
Yeah, this girl would chase a designer label like a fat guy after a Valor jogging suit.
In fear for my life, I locked up the place,
I turned my attention to Rudolph and wished I had mace.
When all of the sudden, there arose such a clatter...
I sprang from my couch to see what was the matter.
I grabbed the chord and opened the blinds... and there was Noelle, quite out of her mind.
My heart stopped, frozen with fear
as she tapped on the glass with a vodka bottle... filled just 'bout to here.
I knew the window couldn't much take it,
and she was screaming "Unlock it, you bastard, or I swear I'll break it!"
I couldn't let her do that, it was a rented place,
so I opened the door... and she punched me in the face!
So summoning my manhood, from bottom to top...
I screamed like a little girl, "I'm calling the cops!"
I just finished dialing and she was standing right there
wearing pearls and those pradas, but otherwise bare.
She spoke not a word, but went straight to a work
reeling me in with that "you're my big daddy" smirk.
I heard her exclaim as she turned out the light...
"You know this is your fault. I love you too much to fight."
