Seeing as some folks have decided to get into the Christmas Spirit in a lyrical fashion, I figured, why not?
smile
T'was the Fight Before Christmas
Last night I dreamed of Christmas
Those dark and frozen nights.
Of cackling, Flying Giftboxes
And epic, hour's-long fights.
I flew on dreamer's wings and spied
The whole of zOMG!'s terrain
And far as I looked, was denied.
The sight for which I came.
For nowhere in the land I loved
Did my search reveal to me
The sight which made me soar above...
The Barton Christmas Tree.
The Barton Square was empty.
No sign of Christmas cheer.
It seemed for all the world to be
Some other time of year.
Then somewhere in the distance
Almost too faint to hear
A haunting sound began to rise
I flew to draw more near.
And slowly did the origin
Of that raucus noise take shape
A flock of Flying Giftboxes!
Cavorting by the lake!
And there beneath their frolics
All of the Bass'ken tress
Were dressed in festive raiments
Fluffs danced as on a breeze.
And darting there amidst the boughs
A figure caught my eye
Garbed all in red, trimmed white with fur
Piling presents high.
T'was old St. Logan, It had to be!
Who else could be so merry?
And who but Logan would use wolves
His Christmas Loot, to carry?
So filled with Christmas joy was I
I longed to call his name
I longed to sing his praises.
Say how glad I was he came.
But instead I kept my silence
Did my best to hold my breath
For to make my presence known here now.
Would most surely mean my death
For as merry as those G.B.'s seemed,
Held there in St. Logan's thrall
Should I speak a word, and break the spell
There'd be no Christmas at all.
So I circled quietly above
As Logan did his chores
And when his Christmas work was through
Watched him head for the Bait Store.
But I'm sure I heard him humming
A cheerful Christmas song
Swept up in the Christmas Spirit
I began to sing along.
And just like that, the spell was broke
And every Giftbox wheeled
And raced towards the very place
My presence was revealed.
I flew as fast as lightning
Straight for the Bass'ken Null
And only barely made it home.
Blood pounding in my skull
But even then my heart felt warmed
As I hung up sword and club
By the final words St. Logan said...
"Have a Merry Christmas, Bub!"