‘Twas the night before 4th Quarter when all through the land,
Not an agent was stirring, not even a Medicare rep’s phone hand.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that commissions would soon be there;
The agents were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of warm reward trips and bonuses danced in their heads;
And a sales director in her ‘kerchief, and a sales manager in his cap,
Had just settled their brains for a long conference call nap—
When out on the roof there arose such a clatter,
Heads sprung from the conference table to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters, and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow,
Gave the luster of mid-day to objects below;
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But an urgent email, and eight new sales reps staring like a deer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be a DTQ* or a high increase.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, to the team,
and call’d them by name:
“Now, David! now,Terri! now, Ryan and Jesse!
On, Kelly! on, Jordan! on, JB and Jim!
To the top of the top of the leaders’ board! to the top of the heap!
Now close that case! close that case! let’s just close them all!”
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the conference room they all flew,
With the sleigh full of proposals—and some alcohol too: