The turkey is roasting, the pie's cooling fine,
But the DC in Memphis just dropped off the line.
The pickers stand idle, the conveyors won't run,
And the one guy who knew why got cut. Job well done.
Leadership gathers to carve up the bird,
They saved forty percent, or so they have heard.
"The cloud runs itself!" says a VP with pride,
As the core network fails over to the wrong side.
Black Friday is coming, the site's under strain,
The cart says "Checkout," then it errors again.
The ticket gets opened, reassigned, and then closed:
"Root cause: unknown," as everyone knows.
'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through HQ,
Not a system was working, and the outages grew.
The pagers were buzzing, the bridge call was packed,
With forty-two people and nobody who had the facts.
The offshore team patched during peak shopping time,
On a change that got "approved" without one sign-off line.
They rebooted prod when they meant to hit test,
Then marked it "resolved" and went home with the rest.
They followed a runbook ten years out of date,
To servers long gone, so the fix came in late.
When the DCs went dark half a world away,
The ticket just sat till the start of their day.
Up on the top floor, by a fire's warm glow,
Leadership toasts to the savings they show.
They can't tell a server from a sneaker's new sole,
But a spreadsheet said cutting us made the quarter look whole.
So Merry Christmas, Swoosh, from the glue you let go.
We kept the lights on for years. Now you finally know.
"Just Do It," you told us, and we did, every day.
So who's doing it now that you sent us away?