We hatched the plan in my buddy's basement.
There were three of us, looking for Christmas adventure.
Billy, the smartest of us, came up with this idea.
Fat Mike, our crazy pal, would steal him.
Bill and I would be the lookouts.
We were twelve years old.
We were good little Catholic school boys.
The manger was located in front of our church.
We planned to keep Jesus for only a day or two.
Then, we would bring him back a day before Christmas eve.
No harm, no foul was committed in our pea brains.
It was snowing that fateful night.
Our theft went off without a hitch.
We laughed like hyenas, after the crime.
We ran through the neighborhood, showing off our prize.
We showed baby Jesus to other crazy kids like us.
Then we hid him in Mike's basement.
Slowly, reality creeped into our prepubescent minds.
How in the hell would we put him back?
We thought we were sunk.
But I came up with a good plan.
We put Jesus in my accordian case.
We opened it up in the church's sacristy.
We dumped baby Jesus, and ran like hell!
We were on the lam!
It would be so cool to save the press clippings!
Our plan actually worked.
Nowadays, baby Jesus has a GPS chip planted on his little body.
The church got wise to bad boys like Mike, Billy, and me.
The GPS sends a signal to the security police.
Kids are easily apprehended in these modern times.
Christmas just ain't fun anymore.