'Twas the night before Christmas, And all through the trails,
Every Bronco was stuck, their progress like snails.
They had no shovels, no rope and no winch,
No CB, no cell-phone, to get out of their pinch.
When out from a mud pit, there arose such a clatter;
All the 'wheelers came running to see what was the matter.
I saw some poor Bronco all covered in crud;
He had blown his motor trying to get free of the mud.
As he stood there I noticed his glowing red face,
And I knew in an instant, he wanted out of this place.
I glanced at his roof, it was all I could see;
He pleaded for help from my winch and from me.
So I sprang to the front of my trusty old Jeep,
Spooled out the winch cable, said "Hook up yer heap!"
He went for a swim in the watery drink,
I laughed as he turned brown, and started to stink.
He hooked up the cable to his buried front hook,
I put a coat on the line, like it says in the book.
I winched him out quickly, a very fast session;
And I charged him a C-note, To teach him a lesson.
I then drove my Jeep through the same mud muck;
No problem for me, 'cuz I have lockers on MY truck.
I wound down my window as I drove out of sight,
And smugly yelled "Next time stay home on Christmas night!"
... now, you - the one with the 4WD - go visit the VA Jeep TrailDogs!