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Roger Peacock, vår numera pensionerade copywriter, fortsätter leverera:

World panic on Christmas Eve!

What are those things flying low in the sky
Making dogs bark and small babies cry?
After knocking me flat
One killed a black cat
What other poor creatures are likely to die?

From Sydney to New York reports just flood in
Lots stuck in chimneys, we hear from Berlin
The world’s in panic
Everything’s manic
But I’m keeping calm with a bottle of gin

So many bad injuries and broken bones
So many complaints and suffering groans
But with Santa retired
It has finally transpired
That his deliveries are now made by malfunctioning drones!

(Do I hear  “ho, ho, ho” in the background?)