Programmers' Christmas

(Thanks to Washburn)

Twas the night before implementation and all through the house,
    not a program was working, not even a mouse.
The programmers all hung by their tubes in despair,
   with hopes that a miracle soon would be there.
The users were nestled all snug in their beds,
   while visions of inquiries danced in their heads.
When out in the computer room there arose such a clatter,
   I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter.
And what to my wondering eyes should appear,
   but a super programmer (with a six pack of beer).
More rapid than eagles, his programs they came,
   and he cursed and muttered and called them by name.
On update!  on add!  on inquiry!  on delete!
   on batch jobs!  on closing!  on functions complete!
His eyes were glazed over, his fingers nimble and lean,
   from weekends and nights in front of a screen.
But a wink of his eye and twitch of his head,
   soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
   turning specs into code; then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger upon the "ENTER" key,
   the system came up and worked perfectly.
The updates updated; the deletes, they deleted;
   the inquiries inquired; and closings completed.
He tested each whistle, and tested each bell
   with nary a glitch; it all had gone well.
The system was finished, the tests were concluded.
   The last minute changes were even included.
And the users exclaimed with a snarl and a taunt,
   "It's just what we asked for, but not what we want!"