17/12/2025
The Great Milk Crate Amnesty of Crantit Dairy
Hear ye, hear ye, a plea most dire,
From Crantit Dairy’s chilly empire.
The cows are ready, the bottles are clean,
But the crates… well, they’ve gone unseen.
They’re under decks and holding tools,
Used as stools by backyard fools,
Propping plants or saving paint,
Borrowed once (or so you claim, you saint).
“Oh, just one crate, we’ll bring it back!”
Said every farmer, pub, and shack.
Now Christmas looms with orders galore,
And Santa needs milk like never before.
The milk is bottled, labelled just right,
But it can’t leave the shed tonight.
No crates to stack, no crates to send—
Dear dairy friends, this must now end.
So Crantit calls an amnesty fair:
No questions asked, no judging glare.
Return the crates, no shame, no fuss,
Just drop them off and laugh with us.
Because without them, sad but true,
Your eggnog dreams may not come through.
So check your shed, your bar, your Ute—
That “temporary” crate? It’s on mute.
Bring them back, be dairy-wise,
And save Christmas (and Crantit’s sighs).
The cows say thanks, the drivers cheer—
And milk crates once again appear.
