'Twas the Night Before Christmas
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Was the echo of clicking from a PC mouse.
His plans neared completion and he'd checked them with care.
There was going to be bloodshed when St Nick got there!
He’d set up a decoy, nestled in his bed,
While visions of shotgun shells danced in his head.
And his parents in duct tape were bound up and wrapped.
'It's time for old Santa to take a dirt nap!'
When out on the lawn, there arose such a clatter,
Was this next door’s cat, or something much fatter?
Away to the window, he flew like a flash,
Just pausing to grab a grenade from his stash.
The moon cast an ominous light on the snow,
Just enough to discern a red figure below.
And beyond in the alley, or so it appeared,
Was a massive toboggan and a team of reindeer.
With the figure approaching, he had to be quick,
Because, in a moment, he’d butcher St Nick!
He looked to the window, and then to the door.
Then he heard a great rumble, so he dropped to the floor.
He could hear the soft tapping of each little hoof.
And now he was certain, ‘Santa’s up on the roof!’
As he drew out his rifle, staying close to the ground,
Down the chimney St Nicholas came with a bound.
The boy clutched his gun, and he gritted his teeth,
As a soot-cloud encircled the room like a wreath.
The chimney was small; getting out was a squeeze,
But the bearded-man climbed from the fireplace with ease.
From under the sofa, the young boy was spying,
Hoping he’d been unseen in the place he was lying.
As the smoke cleared, the boy soon was aware,
That the room was quite empty; there was no one there!
The little old bastard had been much too sly.
The boy felt disheartened, and he let out a cry.
He rushed to the door and out into the street,
And crunched through the snow in his slippered feet.
Just then, the night echoed with the sound of horn.
He looked to the sky; the sleigh was airborne!
And he called to the sledge as it flew out of sight,
‘Next Christmas, I tell you, you’re in for a fight!’