Twas the night before The Interview, and all through the house,
The Internet was working, in the Korean South,
The Interview was flung, by the dust bin right there,
In hopes that Jong Un, wouldn’t bomb from the air.
The Sony Execs with their emails now read,
Had visions of law suits all up in their heads,
“Barack watching Django”, “Jolie is a brat”,
Had melted our brains from a long email spat.
When out on the news sites, where everything matters,
I could see countless careers, now ripped into tatters,
Away to the TV, the couch glued to my ass,
I tore through the channels for previews to catch.
Jong Un on the quest of a “screw you all” blow,
Gave the order to hackers to “bust in there, yo,”
Then, what to our wondering eyes should appear,
But a lame low-res warning, from the hackers right here.
With a little McGyvering, it turned out real quick,
Barack knew in a moment, Jong Un called the hit,
More rapid than illegals over the border it’s claimed,
Barack shouted, and whistled, and crashed websites by name:
“Down Mashable, now Gawker, now HuffPo and Guardian,
Down Fox News, down YouTube, down Facebook, down Onion,
To the source of the Internet, where it’s plugged in the wall,
Now crash away, crash away, North Korean firewall.”
As sly schemes that before the wild whoop ass lets fly,
When they meet with a dictator, flip him one in the eye,
For all the dead laptops and computers now grew,
Because of some tech boys, and programmers too.
And then, came some crinkling, from The Interview roofs,
The cancelled full open would now happen in groups,
As we threw up our heads, and then jumped all around,
Christmas Day it would open, with
plains falling down smiles all around.
The West had said “ner,” with a kick from its foot,
And its bros were all tweeting with hashtags like #woot
A thunder of roars “USA! GO BARACK”
Made swift work of the news, that the DOW had bounced back.
Un’s hackers now riddled, with bullets, and many
Un’s staff beat with hoses, and other things scary
Un’s whole army team, marched into the snow,
With parents, and children most likely in tow.
How one little movie could cause so much grief,
And stir up the drama for Sony’s elite,
For deep down inside the corporate belly,
Who would have guessed, festered something so smelly.
The movie in question, almost nailed to a shelf,
Will now have an audience, including myself,
On Christmas Day go see the movie, go ahead,
I mean really, those threats weren’t much to have dread.
If we’d spoke not a word, and let Un be a jerk,
He’d have made this whole Christmas, go freaking berserk,
But we placed all our thumbs on the sides of our noses,
And we flipped him a big one, The Interview opens!
Now spring to your sleighs, give your children a whistle,
And go out to the theater, and make Christmas sizzle,
Let Jong Un hear you exclaim, at the box office that night,
“Don’t mess with the America! Or we’ll turn out your lights!”
FOLLOW JEROMIE WILLIAMS ON SOCIAL MEDIA