T'was the night before Christmas and all through the Street,
all the bankers were pitching, no one was asleep.
Analysts adjusting their statements with care,
in hopes that the numbers they want would appear.
Coffee cups lay everywhere and on the floor -
elves burnt out from printing PIBs the night before.
The take outs were shut - t'was no Seamless to eat,
this all nighter looked an impossible feat.
Though our brave analyst was not one to mope,
he looked out the Aldermanbury with hope
that his crazed P.E. client would not mark his slides
and send him the changes before Yuletide.
As his thousand-row pivot table almost crashed,
our analyst thought surely Christmas hopes were dashed.
But suddenly from the mock chimney facade,
came a "thump" and "ka-ching" as there fell something large.
Stamping his boots and shaking off the snow,
stood a stern-looking Santa fresh from Savile row,
He wore a Hermes silk cravat and bright red suspenders,
(our analyst thought he had gone round the bender).
"Why the long face?" said Santa, "my boy,
have you forgot all you learnt from A. Matchett and Toy?
I have come to bring you some holiday cheer,
no models or bottles but stuff much more dear."
He rummaged inside his blue corporate sack
and pulled out a massive elaborate rack -
"This contraption can comp any business you choose
even if it only makes rubber tips of childrens' shoes."
"This silver watch - it can multiply time!
It can make your one hour of sleep feel like nine!"
Santa then leapt on the desk with a flourish,
and held out a liquid that swirled rather greenish:
"In this glass bottle a hangover cure -
drink 4 litres of scotch you'd still have room for more!
And this magic pencil when spun on this slate
will always find you the right discount rate!
This pass lets you skip to the front of the queue
when Productions is crowded and your pitchbooks are due
and to avoid CRG errors beyond the pale,
this serum increases attention to detail."
He gave a happy sigh and stroked his beard
but quickly continued as 4AM neared -
"...And last but not least, before the night is spent,
I'll cut bonus taxes by twenty percent."
Our analyst blinked back tears in disbelief
(for that very one issue had given him grief)
he felt quite inspired to make some resolutions
(although Santa warned him to have no illusions)
"I'll visit clients from Nice to Dusseldorf!
I'll price bonds and not be a basis point off!"
Santa smiled with approval and slicked back his hair
while neatly adjusting his red pocket square -
"Well, I've to start heading down to Canary Wharf,
Said I'll help prep that place so I'd better be off.
The next time you're tired or weak in the knees,
remember - This Is The Place You Need To Be."
Our analyst gratefully shook Santa's hand
for he now had great gifts and a new career plan!
With that, Santa climbed back on his sleigh with a nod
saying
"Merry Christmas - May you have more money than God!"
all the bankers were pitching, no one was asleep.
Analysts adjusting their statements with care,
in hopes that the numbers they want would appear.
Coffee cups lay everywhere and on the floor -
elves burnt out from printing PIBs the night before.
The take outs were shut - t'was no Seamless to eat,
this all nighter looked an impossible feat.
Though our brave analyst was not one to mope,
he looked out the Aldermanbury with hope
that his crazed P.E. client would not mark his slides
and send him the changes before Yuletide.
As his thousand-row pivot table almost crashed,
our analyst thought surely Christmas hopes were dashed.
But suddenly from the mock chimney facade,
came a "thump" and "ka-ching" as there fell something large.
Stamping his boots and shaking off the snow,
stood a stern-looking Santa fresh from Savile row,
He wore a Hermes silk cravat and bright red suspenders,
(our analyst thought he had gone round the bender).
"Why the long face?" said Santa, "my boy,
have you forgot all you learnt from A. Matchett and Toy?
I have come to bring you some holiday cheer,
no models or bottles but stuff much more dear."
He rummaged inside his blue corporate sack
and pulled out a massive elaborate rack -
"This contraption can comp any business you choose
even if it only makes rubber tips of childrens' shoes."
"This silver watch - it can multiply time!
It can make your one hour of sleep feel like nine!"
Santa then leapt on the desk with a flourish,
and held out a liquid that swirled rather greenish:
"In this glass bottle a hangover cure -
drink 4 litres of scotch you'd still have room for more!
And this magic pencil when spun on this slate
will always find you the right discount rate!
This pass lets you skip to the front of the queue
when Productions is crowded and your pitchbooks are due
and to avoid CRG errors beyond the pale,
this serum increases attention to detail."
He gave a happy sigh and stroked his beard
but quickly continued as 4AM neared -
"...And last but not least, before the night is spent,
I'll cut bonus taxes by twenty percent."
Our analyst blinked back tears in disbelief
(for that very one issue had given him grief)
he felt quite inspired to make some resolutions
(although Santa warned him to have no illusions)
"I'll visit clients from Nice to Dusseldorf!
I'll price bonds and not be a basis point off!"
Santa smiled with approval and slicked back his hair
while neatly adjusting his red pocket square -
"Well, I've to start heading down to Canary Wharf,
Said I'll help prep that place so I'd better be off.
The next time you're tired or weak in the knees,
remember - This Is The Place You Need To Be."
Our analyst gratefully shook Santa's hand
for he now had great gifts and a new career plan!
With that, Santa climbed back on his sleigh with a nod
saying
"Merry Christmas - May you have more money than God!"
- Ka-Ching
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