'Twas the night before startup
and all through the house
not a program was working,
there clicked not a mouse

The users were nestled all snug in their beds
with visions of systems alive in their heads.
The programmers slumped round their screens in despair
and felt that a miracle now would be fair.

Then from the back office there rose such a chatter
I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter
and there to my marveling eyes did appear
a wonder programmer ­ with a six pack of beer.

His resume glowed with experience so rare
he turned out great code with that bit-pusher's flair.
He spoke not a word but went straight to his work,
turning specs into code like a sitcom berserk.

A wink of his eye and a nod of his head
soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
More smoothly than salesmen his programs they come;
he whistled and shouted and called them by name.

On update, on add, on inquire and delete,
on batch jobs, on closing on functions complete.
His eyes all glazed over, hands nimble and lean,
from long days and nights spent in front of a screen.

He tapped and he hammered, he nothing did shirk,
turning specs into code; then he turned with a smirk,
and laying his finger upon Enter key,
the system came up and worked perfectly.

The updates updated, the deletes all deleted,
the inquiries inquired and the closing completed.
He tested each whistle, he tested each bell,
and with nary an append it all had gone well.

The system was finished, the tests were concluded,
the client's last changes were even included.
Then the user explained in apocalypt font,
"It's just what I asked for, but not what I want."