'Twas the Night Before Patching
was the night before patching and all
through the house
not a system was working, not even a mouse
The programmers hung by their tubes with despair
in hopes that a miracle soon would be there.
The players were nestled all sung in their beds,
while visions of time warps danced 'round in their heads.
When out of the office 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 guru programmer (with a six pack of beer).
His resume glowed with experience so rare,
and he turned out great code with a bit-pushers flare.
More rapid than eagles, his programs they came,
as he whistled and shouted and called them by name:
On Update! On Inquiry! On Add! On Delete!
On Batch Jobs! On Closing! On Functions Complete!
His eyes were glazed-over; fingers nimble and lean,
from weekends and nights in front of a screen.
A wink of his eye, and a twist of his head,
soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
Turing Specs into code; Then turned with a jerk;
And laying his finger upon the RUN key,
UO came up and it worked perfectly.
The Updates updated; Deletes, they deleted;
The Inquires inquired, the Closing completed.
He tested each whistle, and tested each bell
with nary an edit, for all had gone well.
The system was finished, the test were concluded.
The players last actions were even included.
Yet the player exclaimed with a snarl and a taunt.
It's just what I asked for, but not what I want!