Bob Earl's version of "Twas the Night..."

Twas the night before Christmas, and in the garage
The cars were all silent, lined up for triage;
The spanners were flung in the toolbox at random,
With hope that someone would soon hand them;
...to Ian, to nurture their once mighty steed,
Now sitting broken, repairs in much need;
And I on my bike on a Christmas eve peddle
Was just passing by, testing my mettle;
When out of the shop there arose such commotion
That I braked to a halt with tires a'smokin;
I pulled off my goggles, the bike stuck in the snow
And looked through the window, Brig growling below;
The phantoms of Lucas where surely a'working
As rows of headlights their duty were'nt shirking
And what did I spy through my frosted up cap?
but a bearded old elf and a pile of scrap;
Old Webers and u-joints, great mounds of bent frames,
lay scattered about in a mass without name;
He surveyed the pile and with teeth a'missing,
started picking about, his welding torch hissing;
As if overwhelmed by the task he had started,
He cleared his throat and soundly farted;
"Now, Stromberg! now, Lucas! now, Morris and Mini!
On, Westfield! on, Cooper! now, chorus and whiny!
As old rust that before the sandblaster whirls,
round in ones face mask loosening one's curls;
The parts shivered and danced and made great vibration,
with paint cans a'joining, to my consternation;
He stood in the middle with arms raised askew'
pointing and waving to parts as the flew;
sparks shot from his fingers, smoke curled from his pipe,
he jiggled and danced making a horrendous sight;
Great sheets of tinplate grew bulges and curves,
then slammed together with vigour and verve;
The welding torch sputtered as something took form,
the English wheel spinning, what had it born?
Pistons (a dozen)and valves (twenty four),
assembled themselves in a block on the floor;
I gasped in amazement at what I was see'in,
Santa was making a car for ole Ian!
Now almost finished he stood back and gleamed,
At the BRG paintwork on an XJ13;
Standing beside the paint booth exhaust,
Santa saw me and yelled through the frost;
"Now make sure he drives it or I'll be some cross,
I made it for driving not gathering moss!"
The chimney was missing, the exhaust fan was broken,
So Santa, now stumped, used the door in a token,
...gesture of humility to leave Ian's shop,
and gather his sleigh, his tools and his crop;
Which he snapped on the haunch of the first of his steeds,
who took to the air for further misdeeds;
And I heard him exclaim, ere he flew without fear,
"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good year!"