12/24/2025
BRO Jeffy put some time into this
Twas the night before Christmas, down at Fab Farm HQ,
Not a welder was humming, neither the torches too
The derby cars sat there with headers tight fit,
Waiting on morning to get back to it.
The helmets were hung by the toolbox with care,
In hopes that more sparks soon would dance in the air.
The crew was worn out from grinding all day,
Dreaming of bent metal and trophies in May.
When out in the yard there arose such a clatter,
I grabbed my hood quick to see what was the matter.
Away to the door I ran through the snow,
Past scrap piles and steel stacked all in a row
The moon on the chrome of a twisted-up frames
Gave a shine to the scars earned in derby hall of fame.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a jacked-up old sleigh built from parts far and near
With a wild old driver, so dirty and fast,
I knew in a moment—it had to be Fabby Claus.
More rapid than weld beads his reindeer they came,
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name:
“Now MIG! Now TIG! Now Plasma and Grinder!
On Cutoff! On Torch! On Bender and angle Finder!
To the top of the shop! To the end of the wall!
Now smash away! Smash away! Smash away all!”
He hopped from the sleigh with a hood on his head,
Leather gloves on his hands, boots heavy with tread.
A bundle of steel slung over his back,
Full of brackets and tabs and one-off parts stacked.
His eyes how they twinkled, his grin how it grew,
This Santa smelled strongly of gas and CO2
He spoke not a word, just went straight to his work,
Laying beads so smooth they’d make inspectors go berserk.
He filled every stocking with parts built to last,
Motor plates, gussets, and welds unsurpassed.
Then he wiped his hands clean on a rag black as coal,
Nodded once proud of a job done full-throttle.
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a yell,
And away they all flew like slag after a bell.
But I heard him exclaim as he roared out of sight—
“Happy Christmas from Fab Farm—keep welding, keep fighting, and smash ’em good night!”
