'Twas the night before Christmas, no sound in the house. My GS is dusty and so is my mouse. My dealer's gone Mac; he's too brainwashed to care. Apple marketing smells like that old dairy-air. My children are nestled, all snug in their beds, while visions of Mac LCs (ugh) dance in their heads. The GS is dead, I've heard them all say. They might just be right; things look pretty gray. When all of a sudden a great noise I did hear. I woke with a start and fell flat on my rear. Awakened from slumber I jumped up to see tripped over the cat and twisted my knee. The moon brightly shone on the new fallen snow. I looked but saw nothing, then turning to go, stopped short... What's that?... Is that synthLAB I hear? Why yes! Yes it is! That's good reason to cheer! I jumped and I shouted and I danced then because I knew right away that it must be Saint Woz. More rapid than Zip Chip, old Wozniak came. He whistled and shouted and called out by name: "Now Quickie! Now Allison! Now AppleWorks GS! Go Claris! On SuperConvert! I love you Vitesse! Platinum Paint is so cool! Twilight Screen Blanker rules! Who needs those old Macs when you've got Apple IIs? "If you have been true I've got presents to dole, but if you're like inCider you'll get lumps of coal." So up to the housetop with the Green Team he flew; Jim Merritt, Andy Nicholas, and Saint Wozniak, too. I kept very quiet so that I might hear SoundSmith tunes softly playing, spreading Apple II cheer. Then I heard a slight scrape and as I turned 'round down the chimney Saint Wozniak came with a bound. He wore blue jeans and sneakers and a T-shirt that said II-Infinitum ... II-Forever... I had nothing to dread! A sack of great software he had slung on his back and he looked like a hacker there searching his pack. His eyes twinkled brightly, his dimples so merry, his cheeks red as apples, his nose like a cherry. His droll little mouth smiled a smile oh so grand. And a full bearded chin, GDL labels in hand. A thick slice of pizza he held tight in his teeth and the steam from it circled his head like a wreath. A plump little face and a round little belly. He laughed and it shook like a bowl of grape jelly. He was chubby and plump; a right jolly old elf. I laughed when I saw him, for he looked like myself. He winked right at me then he twisted his head, so I knew deep inside I had nothing to dread. He said not a word. He went straight to work programming in ORCA, then he turned with a jerk. Then placing his finger on top of that mess, and giving a nod... GAMES for the GS! He jumped to his sleigh and it rose from the ground. But before it took off I saw him turn 'round and I heard him exclaim, 'ere he flew out of sight, "Apple II Forever, and to all a good night!"
by Marty Knight Copyright 1990, republished without permission.