T'was the Night Before Xmas
(with apologies to Clement Clarke Moore)
By Lynne Hoffman
T'was the night before Christmas, when all through the precinct
Not a creature was stirring, at least no one decent.
As they awaited forensics Briscoe sat in his chair,
In hopes that Profaci soon would be there.

The detectives were waiting paperwork all in shreds,
While visions of Krispy Kremes danced in their heads.
They called the D.A's. and McCoy in his cap,
Stood up so quick Claire slipped off his lap.

A warrant was issued, so they raced to the scene,
Veteran Lennie Briscoe and new guy Ed Green.
Some mook had been murdered, some punk stole his cash
Now they had a new lead where he'd hidden the stash.

They rummaged through muck and plenty of litter,
And discovered a small Christmas tree, with lights all a glitter.
When, what to their work weary eyes should appear,
But eight CSU guys with baggies so dear.

The D.A's. were next, neither lively nor quick,
Armed with arrest warrants, four inches thick.
The informant, well paid, had named name after name
Until eventually, they all sounded the same.

"Now Washington! Now Thayer! Now Swann!"
You know that the list could go on and on.
From the top of the roof to the floor of the jail,
Harrass 'em, arrest 'em, deny the scum bail.

As idiots that in the interrogation room lie,
When they meet with new evidence, break down and cry.
So away to arraignment, the criminals they go,
With the A.D.A. adamant, it's a tough road to hoe.

And then, in a twinkling, you hear at the bar,
Defense counsel suggesting the crook won't run... far.
The A.D.A's. reasons to oppose bail are expounded,
Down comes the gavel, the judge's hammer has sounded.

The Judge robed in black, from his head to his feet,
And his clothes, underneath, were all pressed and quite neat;
When they finish in court, they go to see Adam
Who's waiting in his office and set to go at 'em.

His eyes -- how they darkened! His cheeks how wrinkly,
He reached for a writ, the blue cover paper crinkly,
His grim little mouth was drawn tight in a frown,
And Kincaid got the impression, hell was on the way down.

The stump of a crack pipe was found at the scene,
But the only prints on it belonged to Ed Green.
The defense was implying he was on the take
McCoy said Van Buren'd clear it up, piece of cake!

The defense attorney was old Arthur Gold
And the "Mountains of motions... " theory re-told
The glint in his eye and the gray of his head,
Led them to believe, he'd as soon be in bed.

He spoke many a word, some worth a dollar,
And filed so many appeals, McCoy wanted to holler
Gold offered a plea, "Time served is what I propose,"
McCoy gave a reply, "You think I'm a fool I suppose?"

They went back to court and played to the jury
Who brought back a verdict in quite a hurry.
McCoy replied to the defendant, "If you can't do the time...."
As Gold filed an appeal, "Then don't do the crime!"

whaddya think?