Twas the night before shipment, when all through the warehouse,
Not a touch screen was working, not even a spark.
The employees all tangled their hands in their hair,
In hopes that a solution would pop out of thin air.
The reporters were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of I.T.’s danced with I.E.’s in their heads.
And Jason in his goggles, and I with my laptop,
Had just resigned ourselves to another late night.
When out around back 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 an a-Si TFT active matrix LCD wizard (with a six pack of beer).
With a tiny screwdriver, and a flick of his wrist,
The screens came alive with an elegant twist.
More colorful than a sailor his curses they flew,
As he muttered, and mumbled each option by name.
Now Bluetooth! Now import! New job, start Realtime!
On audio! On dictionary! On on-screen translation!
His eyes soon glazed over, fingers nimble and clean,
To make sure those touch screens stayed smudge free and pristine.
He shouted, “Ah ha! It’s this little white cable!
You needed the red one to get the job done!”
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,
Switching red and white cables, and with one final jerk,
The screens danced to life, their backlights how merry!
With gleaming bright cases like jewels in the snow.
His eyes how they twinkled in their flickering light.
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself,
Wave that one silly cable that stopped up the show.
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!
--Wait, chimney? Uhhh...ok.
He hopped in his audi, Britney Spears through his speakers,
And away down my street did his tires peel out.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
“Don’t mess it up again, you idiots! Now have a good-night!”