OldSanta
Where art thou, My lady muse, whose heart doth yearn for center stage? in need of such a creature, this humble man finds himself. And should she then, upon a bargain struck, portray the shrew, a harpy of contempt, yet then at story's height, fall face down in the mock leavings of the beasts, then, and only then, the vigor of the young man shall I once again know! and then, my staff shall raise high into the air! I beesech thee, who's power is on high, Let it come to pass!
Hark! Sendeth thy message to me, and let us make a merry tale!