'Twas the night before Chiefsmas, when all through Arrowhead
Not a creature was stirring, and no one wore red.
But helmets were hung in their lockers with care
In hopes that Todd Haley soon would be there
The Chiefs were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of dead Buffaloes danced in their heads;
And Pioli in his jammies, and Clark in his nightgown
Had just settled down after drinking the town
When out on the field there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the press box I flew like a flash,
Tore open the gate, past the guard smoking hash.
The moon shining down on the fresh-painted grass
Made me think of a tight little cheerleader's ass.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
A big red bus, the Kansas City Chiefs were here!
With an angry coach, often called a m'fin prick
Of course it was Haley, god, what a dick!
More rapid than Jamaal Charles his players they came
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Albert! now, Breaston! now, Cassel and Bowe!
On, Charles! on Flowers! on, Dorsey and Powe!
To the edge of the sideline! Protect my damn ball!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
So back to the locker room, at the sound of the horn!
The players ran off, herded by Zorn.
And then, in the hallway, I heard footsteps come.
It was Haley and the Chiefs, even before the sun!
As I logged off Arrowhead Pride, and was turning around,
Down the aisle came Haley, with a light-footed bound.
Nattily attired, he was dressed all in red
And said, "by jove, you're the famous bfett!"
A bundle of plays he had tucked under his arm,
He promised, to the Bills, they would do great harm.
Said Haley: We beat them last year, don't you know I own Gailey?
We'll beat them again, or my name isn't Todd Haley.
Have you seen their offensive tackles, they suck really hard!
They're so awful, most likely, they couldn't even play guard.
So guess what happens when Fitzpatrick drops to pass?
Buffalo's left tackle is toast, and Hali sacks that ass!
Merriman's washed up and nowhere to be found,
Cassel will have time to throw, three-yard passes will abound!
Don't worry about our defense, Romeo's got the trick,
And if he doesn't, I'll go into Coach Mode: Overdrive Prick!
Haley then closed his playbook, got back on the bus
He added, "by the way, Bill Muir is a salty old cuss."
"Also, it's the opener, so our fans will be loud!
"I'm anticipating a thunderous roar from our red swaddled crowd!
He sprang to his seat, to his team gave a shout,
And away they all drove, ready for the bout.
But I heard Haley exclaim, as he drew up more passes,
"I'M A M'FIN PRICK! LET'S KICK BUFFALO'S ASSES!"