Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house Not a programmer was coding, Not even using his mouse. The programs were all prepared, tested and engineered In hopes that they would run before St. Nicholas appeared. The coders were snuggled all comfy in the beds, While visions of class models swarmed in their heads. And my manager with his spreadsheet and I with my tablet, Had just settled in for an evening watching the net. When out in the cloud, there arose ...