‘The documents were hung by the shredder with care': Terror analyst pens awesome Christmas classic re-write

Geopolitical terror analyst Chris Sampson celebrated Christmas Eve with a moving tribute to the Trump administration, set to the Clement Clarke Moore poem, "A visit from St. Nicolas" which is also know by it's first line, "Twas the night before Christmas."

Sampson is the co-author of the book Hacking ISIS: How to Destroy the Cyber Jihad with terrorism and intelligence expert Malcolm Nance.

The poem, posted on Twitter, reads as follows:

Twas the night before Christmas, when through the White House

Not a Kushner was resting, not even his spouse;

The documents were hung by the shredder with care,

In fears that Bob Mueller soon would be there;

The staffers were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of subpoenas danced in their heads;

And Melania in her babushka, and Trump in his cap,

Flew to Mar-a-Lago for a long winter's nap,

When on the TV there remained such a matter,

There was Brennan, Podesta and man named Jim Clapper.

With bribes fresh in hand, they flew like the flash,

The greedy corporations did suck up the cash.

The Congress rejoiced the records will show

Feigned promises of riches to the peasants below,

When, what to amazement FoxNews should appear,

Took aim at Bob Mueller, with permission to smear,

With disinfo flying, so rapid and thick,

I knew in a moment it must be Bolshevik.

More rapid than vultures his hackers they came,

And they posted and trolled, as they sought to defame;

"Now, Fancy! now, Cozy! now, Seaduke and BlackEnergy!

On, Havex! on Sandworm! on, Skipper and CrouchingYeti!

To the DNC server! Past the paper's firewall!

Now exfiltrate, exfiltrate, exfiltrate all!"

Then the Kremlin called Julian, their reliable guy,

To leak to the world, the docs that they plied,

And the Stone who was named Roger bragged on it too,

With the dirty tricks methods that Vladi knew.

And they carried on lying that there was never the proof,

They fogged and distracted and acted aloof.

But their plan would unravel, spin wild to the ground,

And the FBI went digging and looking all around.

Then came the big man, he was Special Counsel to be,

And he hired top lawyers, and then empaneled grand jury;

There were interviews and hearings, this man would not slack,

And he pressed forward justly, with a determined knack.

His eyes were like eagles, they missed not a thing,

His presence was heavy, his targets would sing!

His sleuthing was famous, if you must know,

And his integrity was solid, like the ground below;

The facts that were surfaced he held tight in his teeth,

And as he dug for truth morsels that were buried beneath;

He was focused on the crooked, the wretched and smelly,

They did shake full of fear as we watched on the tele.

He questioned each of them from the son to the elf,

And I rejoiced at the justice, then I thought to myself;

Under orange little man with weird hair on his head,

The great justice of America was certainly not dead,

He did push and did pull but it just would not work,

And did hit Twitter daily, to act like a jerk,

And he threw little tizzy fits, like a toddler in chief,

But we saw he was crooked, though no ordinary thief;

Though it took time, and labor we could would no longer bristle,

As we finally saw Congress call for his dismissal.

And as justice was served, he was hauled out of sight,

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD-NIGHT!