Wednesday, 15 December 2010

T'was the Night Before Christmas


T'was the Night Before Christmas when all through the house

The only creature stirring was the kid's zhu zhu mouse.
A large glass of red was poured and ready,
Mum's little helper (to keep her nerves steady).

The children were manhandled into their beds
And visions of presents danced in their heads;
Mum and Dad drained, and with legs like jelly;
Had just settled down to watch some crap telly;

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter;
They sprang from the sofa to see what was the matter.
They ran to the window like bats out of hell,
Tore open the curtains and started to yell.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below;
When, what to incredulous eyes did appear
But a whopping great sleigh and eight bloody reindeer!

With a little old driver so lively and quick,
They knew in a moment it must be St Nick.
"Excuse me, but who do you think you are?
You crazy old dude - you've knackered our car!"

"And Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen;
Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen;
Impressive you are, but what do we do
With a garden now covered in reindeer poo?"

Shocked by this outburst St Nick took the hump
Walked into the fence and fell with a bump.
Mum and Dad laughed; said "I think we're agreed;
It's not a flying sleigh but an eye test you need!"

He sprang to his feet and recovered his pride;
And with a sneer said "At least I've not lied!
You've told your children I'm bringing surprises,
But I'm leaving bugger all now for your early risers!"

His eyes how they twinkled! His dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses and his breath smelled of sherry.
The white beard on his chin was flecked with saliva,
They realised he was just a festive drunk driver.

"You don't frighten us - you nasty old goat;
Standing there in your smelly old furry red coat.
We've bought our kid's presents so go away please",
And with that they confiscated his keys.

He knew he was beaten and without any fuss,
He headed into the night to wait for the bus,
But they heard him exclaim as he walked out of sight
"Merry Sodding Christmas and to all a good night"

Credit of course must go the original poem by Clement Clarke Moore.
Variations from the original are all my own.