‘‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through envoy, not a creature was stirring, not even Dacuj.

The stockings were all hung in the crew room with care, in the hopes that the Patron Saint of Flow would soon be there.

The standby pilots were snoozing in airport recliners while the execs and recruiters were at Christmas parties complaining about pilot whiners.

Out on the ramp there arose such a clatter, the standbys all ran out to see what was the matter. A belt loader had crashed into a plane. The standbys all looked at each other and knew they were going to be blamed.

They take their lumps and keep waiting for the flow, only to see they have further and further to go. Less and less pilots and more airplanes, keeps the flow away and everything the same.

Flustered and frustrated they question one who made it through, only to find out more bad news. He says keep waiting and waiting and maybe you’ll get set free, only you find out there’s no such thing.

If you finally do make it, don’t get too coy, really over here it’s just one big envoy.