[Waverly]

He was dressed all in fur, from his waist to his brow,
But above his black boots he was starkers, sans trow!
He was carrying something, but my eyes wouldn’t track,
Though the legends do say he bears a large sack.

His calves were well muscled, his thighs long and lean,
His cheeks might have been waxed, what could that mean?
A bottle of bourbon he gripped in his fist,
Then he motioned me over, saying “You’re on my list.”

I took two step closer, in spite of myself,
Then thought better and fled the Satyrous elf!

So whataya want Panty Claus to bring ya? Yes, you have to sit on my lap before you tell me…