Joke: Santa and the Full Moon (as told by Blitzen)

We thought we'd eaten too much hay, our reindeer bellies full,
And this was why the magic sleigh seemed very hard to pull.
We blamed it on the moonlit snow, it made our eyes strain hard.
Our eyes played tricks, and that was why he seemed a tub of lard.
These excuses made good sense to us, they seemed sufficient proof,
But they did not explain what happened on that last Indiana roof.
Was it fate, or was it fat that gave us this hard luck?
Never in our wildest dreams did we think that he'd get stuck!
We couldn't fly (who would steer?), or call for help, or disappear,
And it scared us to think of what might transpire...
"In the morning they'll set his fat fanny on fire!"
Who would've thought such a ripe, healthy gut
Would result in the burning of that magnificent butt?
We knew we must devise a plan to somehow free his dimpled can.
We brainstormed, but were truly stumped on how to scoot the mighty rump,
Until little Danny's fishing pole slid onto Dudley's lump of coal.
"We'll fish," said I, "For Santa's suit, and strip him, save his silted boots,
And when he's nude with lots of space, he'll fall into the fireplace!"
We dropped the hook and took firm stance, we caught his coat, and then his pants.
And as I'd thought, the plan worked well, down the chimney Santa fell.
He hurriedly tiptoed toward the tree, but in his haste he did not see
Little Seymour, crouched down low, as he pushed his horn-rims up his nose.
All the songs he'd heard had taught 'im 'bout a little red nose, not a grand pale bottom.
His jaw dropped low and, flabbergasted, he watched as Santa's tremendous mass did
Wobble like jello, to and fro, and brush against some mistletoe.
He bit his lip as Santa jiggled, he tried to stop, but slipped a giggle.
Santa swiftly whirled around, and with a quick and mighty bound,
Was in the chimney, his hand on his nose
(Santa moves quicker when he goes without clothes).
And he smiled at Seymour, and gave him a wink,
Before rising up fast with a laugh and a blink.
And Seymour stood silent until the sun rose,
While thinking of Santa, pale rear and red nose.
Seymour told his family and all of Indiana
That on Christmas Eve, he'd been mooned by Santa!
Can, you boys and girls, imagine what you'd do
If something this nifty happened to you?