by: Josh Cramer
‘Twas the night before congress, when all through the show,
Not a detail was missing—not a button or bow.
The booth was installed by the builders with care,
In hopes that new visitors soon would be there;
The clients were nestled all snug in their beds,
While dreams of a busy booth danced in their heads.
But Dor and Amir, from the team at Tamooz
were both hard at work, checking final to-dos.
When in from the lobby there arose such a clamor,
They were both left to wonder—had someone dropped a hammer?
The trace of a figure soon came into view,
And promptly laid siege to booth number two.
Aghast and alarmed at this ugly kerfuffle,
Dor sprang into action, to deal with the trouble.
And what, to his wondering eyes should appear,
But the Elf of Misfortune, and his miniature spear.
With a troubling presence, so cloyingly sick,
Dor knew in a moment he’d have to be quick.
More rapid than eagles, he confronted the Elf.
“Your tricks won’t work here—get ahold of yourself!
We’re more than prepared for the trouble you muster…
…and we don’t play around, so move along, buster!”
Just then, Amir joined with a scowl on his face
and a butterfly net that he’d brought just in case.
The Elf stood a moment—his pipe in his teeth,
and he gnawed at its stump—for he knew he’d been beat.
With a grumpy “harrumph,” he then turned on his heels,
storming back through the door without further appeal.
With a sigh of relief, nothing more left to do,
Amir and Dor paused—then a high five or two.
They had done it again—kept Misfortune at bay,
But for their line of work—just a typical day.
You see, it’s important—the partner you choose
For your ample investment, and no time to lose.
Experience counts when the Elf comes to call,
so rely on our years—more than twenty in all.
And so we must bid you a pleasant good night.
Retire to your rooms, and turn out the light.
And rest easy now—we’ll watch over the booth;
Season’s greetings to all, from your friends at Tamooz.