Mad Skillz + Mad Libs

So I Googled "Christmas Mad Libs" and a website came up where I randomly put in all of the necessary parts of speech and they generate me a nice little spoof of 'Twas the Night Before Christmas. Thus, using my mad vocabulary skillz- I came up with this:

'Twas the Night Before Christmas

'Twas the Mesozoic era before Christmas, and all through the wigwam,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a warthog.
The dickeys were hung by the wingback chair with care,
In hopes that St. Beatrice soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their hope chests,
While visions of sugar-cumquats danced in their knuckles.
And step cousin in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the lateral filing cabinet to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Smacked open the shutters, and launched up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave the luster of mid-bronze age to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear?
But a fluent triathlon bike, and eight tiny japanese beetles.

With a little old driver, so lively and sweltering,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Beatrice.
More rapid than mealworms his japanese beetles they came,
And he whistled, and frosted, and called them by name;

"Now, Dasher! Now, Wally! Now, Bird Figurine and Vixen!
On, Joe The Plumber! On Marmoset! On, Kilt and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! To the top of the grey poupon!
Now hoist away! Hoist away! Hoist away all!"

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof,
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the wingback chair St. Beatrice came with a bound.

His eyes -- how they primed! His dimples, how pre-moistened!
His earlobes were like pinecones, his femur like Pringles!
He spoke not a word but went straight to his work,
And filled all the dickeys, then turned with a jerk.

And laying his scalp aside of his patella,
And giving a nod, up the wingback chair he rose.

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a Heeee-hawwww!!!,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight,
"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good Mesozoic era!"

(http://www.rinkworks.com/crazylibs/c/c11.shtml if you would like to do your own...)