'Twas the Morning of Christmas

And all along the lane
Not a present was opened
Which did not involve Horatio Caine.
Delighted with our autographed headshot,
we carefully packed it away for a safe travel lot.
Spencer in his Eagles jersey, and I in orange 'flops,
set out to find a decent (read: OPEN) bar for hops.



Imagine our delight, felt once again in Illadelph,
when visited by another most generous elf.
In a package wrapped in paper that resembled angel wings,
we found a box of pun-heavy crimesolving things.



Opened the box and there he stood, a hands-on-hips vision of Christmas joy for the masses.
Our hearts leapt when the mysterious red-headed figure took off his sunglasses.
He exclaimed to us as he drove off in a slow motion Hummer, bathed in a glorious orange light,
"Merry Christmas to all, Frank, and to all a good night."