T'was the night before XML-mas, when all through the cubicles,
Not a marketing person was stirring, not even those with painted cuticles;
Michael Kay's manuals were placed on the bookshelf with care,
In hopes that St. TBL soon would appear.
The programmers were nestled all snug in their den,
With dreams that their workflows were functioning again.
And I with my laptop, and Eve's WS stack,
Had just settled down for a long winter's hack,
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