An elderly couple liked weed a whole lot,
But the cops, who stopped them in Nebraska, DID NOT!
Those cops hated doobies! Thought weed worse than treason!
Now, please don’t ask why. No one quite knows the reason.
It could be police like a reason to fight.
It could be, perhaps, that the laws are too tight.
But I think that the most likely reason of all,
May have been that the weight of the weed wasn’t small.
To find out for sure, you’d just have to ask-a,
“Why’d you cops confiscate all that dope in Nebraska?”
Whatever their reasons, they pulled over a truck,
And its elderly drivers were shit out of luck.
They had turned with no signal! They had crossed center lines!
They were facing a fortune in tickets and fines!
When the cops reached the truck, well, they just started grinning.
(They could tell from the smell the fun was just beginning.)
With the help of a drug dog the topper was flicked up,
They found huge bags of kush in the back of the pickup!
Sixty pounds of dank bud carried by these drug haulers,
Worth three hundred thirty-six thousand in dollars.
Patrick Jiron, the driver, an eighty-year-old,
Tried explaining away his Acapulco Gold.
“Relax, officers! No need to be unpleasant!”
“All this weed is intended to be Christmas presents!”
“We’re from California, en route to Vermont.”
“Won’t you let us continue on our Christmas jaunt?””
The cops got an idea! An awful idea!
THE COPS GOT A WONDERFUL, AWFUL IDEA!
They arrested poor Patrick and sent him to jail,
And didn’t let him go till he put up his bail.
His wife got off easy: she only got cited,
But the size of the bust made the cops feel delighted.
“Pooh Pooh to Vermont!” they were grinchishly humming.
“They’re finding out now that their bud isn’t coming!”
“They’re just waking up! I know just what they’ll do!”
“Their mouths will hang open a minute or two,
“Then all Vermont’s stoners will cry out Boo Hoo!”
“That’s a noise,” grinned the cops, “That I simply MUST hear!”
So they paused. And the cops put their hands to their ears.
And they did hear a sound rising from the northeast:
It started in low. Then the volume increased.
But the sound wasn’t sober! This sound sounded half-baked!
It couldn’t be so! But the sound of the sound wasn’t fake!
They stared at Vermont! The cops popped their eyes!
Then they shook! What they saw was a shocking surprise!
Every stoner in Vermont, the tall and the small,
Was high without any marijuana at all!
They HADN’T stopped stoners from stoning! THEY STONED!
Somehow or other, those cops had been owned!
And the cops, with their cop-feet ice-cold in the snow,
Stood puzzling and puzzling: “How could it be so?”
“They’re high without brownies! They’re high without bongs!”
“They’re claiming that they still enjoy Pink Floyd songs!”
And they puzzled three hours, till their puzzlers were sore.
Then the cops thought of something they hadn’t before!
“Maybe Christmas,” they thought, “doesn’t need marijuana.”
“Maybe Christmas … perhaps … gets you high as you wanna!”
And what happened then? Well … in Vermont they say,
The Nebraska cops’ hearts grew three sizes that day!
They ordered some pizza. They rolled up a joint,
Just one hit helped them see the old couple’s viewpoint.
With one more, they developed—you’ll never believe-a—
A strong preference for indica over sativa.
So they rushed to the jail just as fast as they could,
(Which wasn’t that fast, ’cause the weed was real good.)
They freed Mr. Jiron! They dropped all the charges!
They all went to McDonald’s to get milkshakes! Larges!
I’m just kidding. Nebraska is not California,
And I’m telling this sad Christmas tale to warn ya:
If you’re crossing state lines for a Christmas that’s green,
Watch out for the cops, ’cause the cops can be mean.
Get pulled over with weed and it’s a lead-pipe cinch,
You’d be happier spending Christmas with the Grinch.
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