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  1. #12
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    How to Tell if You're a Grinch

    You reuse last year's Christmas cards and send them out under your own name. (5 points)

    You steal light bulbs from you neighbor's outdoor display to replenish your own supply. (5 points, 10 if neighbor's whole light sets or lighted Santa goes out)

    You have dressed a dog or cat as Santa Claus, elf helper, or reindeer. (10 points for each; if you dressed an endangered species, 5 extra points)

    You put out last year's stale candy canes for children. (1 point for each piece of sticky candy). If you put out a chocolate or marzipan Santa also, add 10 points.

    You enclose a shoddy and inferior gift from Target, Walmart, or K-Mart in a Bloomingdale's or other prestige box to impress your friends. (5 points for each infraction).

    You make collect long distance phone calls to your family on Christmas day. (5 points, 10 if from a cell phone), claiming you are stuck in a phone booth.

    At the office Christmas party, you horde huge stockpiles of goodies for later consumption at home. (5 points; 15 points if you use this stuff for your own party)

    You steal the wreath from a parked car to use on your own [Southern California only, others ignore]. (5 points -- nobody but Angelenos are dumb enough to dress a car)

    After an invitation to a friend's house, you bring a commercially produced fruitcake and try to pass it off as home made. (5 points; 15 points if the fruitcake is from last year).

    Any stealing from the Toys-for-Tots collection bins is a definite no-no. (20 points)



    Evaluate your score on the "Grinch Scale" from 20 to 100.

    20-30: You are just a cheeseball.

    30-50: You are an apprentice in Yuletide larceny and are probably wanted by the police for overdue parking tickets.

    50-100: Grinch, move over. The Meyer Lansky of Christmas crime has arrived.
    Laissez les bon temps rouler! Going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more than standing in a garage makes you a car.** a 4 day work week & sex slaves ~ I say Tyt for PRESIDENT! Not to be taken internally, literally or seriously ....Suki ebaynni IS THAT BETTER ?

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  3. #13

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    An Attorney's 'Twas the Night Before Christmas


    Whereas, on an occasion immediately
    preceding the Nativity festival,
    throughout a certain dwelling unit,
    quiet descended, in which could be heard
    no disturbance, not even the sound
    emitted by a diminutive rodent related
    to, and in form resembling, a rat; and

    Whereas, the offspring of the
    occupants had affixed their tubular,
    closely knit coverings for the nether
    limbs to the flue of the fireplace in
    expectation that a personage known as
    St.Nicholas would arrive; and

    Whereas, said offspring had become
    somnolent, and were entertaining re:
    saccharine-flavored fruit; and

    Whereas, the adult male of the
    family, et ux, attired in proper
    headgear, had also become quiescent in
    anticipation of nocturnal inertia; and

    Whereas, a distraction on the snowy
    acreage outside aroused the owner to
    investigate; and

    Whereas, he perceived in a most
    unbelieving manner a vehicle propelled
    by eight domesticated quadrapeds of a
    species found in artic regions; and

    Whereas, a most odd rotund gentleman
    was entreating the aforesaid animals by
    their appellations, as follows:

    "Your immediate co-operation is
    requested. Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, and
    Vixen; and collective action by you will
    be much appreciated, Comet, Cupid,
    Donder, and Blitzen"; and

    Whereas, subsequent to the above,
    there occurred a swift descent to the
    hearth by the aforementioned gentleman,
    where he proceeded to deposit gratuities
    in the aforementioned tubular coverings.

    Now, therefore, be ye advised:
    that upon completion of these acts,
    and upon his return to his original
    point of departure, he proclaimed
    a felicitation of the type prevalent
    and suitable to these occasions, ie:

    Merry Christmas to All
    and to All a Good Night!
    Laissez les bon temps rouler! Going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more than standing in a garage makes you a car.** a 4 day work week & sex slaves ~ I say Tyt for PRESIDENT! Not to be taken internally, literally or seriously ....Suki ebaynni IS THAT BETTER ?

  5. #15
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    The Night Before Christmas,
    from the scientist's perspective.




    'Twas the nocturnal segment of the diurnal period preceding the annual Yuletide celebration and throughout our place of residence, kinetic activity was not in evidence among the possessors of this potential, including that species of diminutive rodent known as Mus musculus.

    Hosiery was meticulously suspended from the forward edge of the wood-burning caloric apparatus, pursuant to our anticipatory pleasure regarding an imminent visitation from an eccentric philanthropist among whose folkloric appellations is the honorific title of St. Nick.

    The prepubescent siblings, comfortably ensconced in their respective accommodations of repose, were experiencing subconscious visual hallucinations of variegated saccarinose fruit confections performing choreography through their cerebrums. My conjugal partner and I, attired in our nocturnal head-coverings, were about to take slumberous advantage of the Arctic-like gloom when upon the avenaceous exterior portion of the grounds there ascended such a cacophony of dissonance that I felt compelled to arise with alacrity from my place of repose for the purpose of ascertaining the precise source thereof.

    Hastening to the casement, I forthwith opened the barriers sealing this fenestration, noting thereupon that the lunar brilliance without, reflecting as it was upon the surface of a recent crystalline aqueous precipitation, might be said to rival that of the solar meridian itself--thus permitting my incredulous optical sensory organs to behold a miniature airborne runnered conveyance, drawn by an octet of diminutive specimens of the genus Rangifer, piloted by a miniscule, aged chauffeur so ebullient and nimble that it became instantly apparent to me that he was indeed our anticipated beatified caller.

    With this ungulate motive power traveling at a greater vertiginous velocity than patriotic alar predators, he vociferated loudly, expelled breath musically through contracted labia, and addressed each of the octet by his or her cognomen: "Now Dasher, now Dancer," et al, guiding them to the uppermost exterior level of our abode, through which structure I could readily distinguish the concatenations of each of the sum total of the thirty-two cloven pedal extremities.

    As I retracted my cranium from its erstwhile location and was performing a pi radians pivot, our distinguished visitant achieved, with utmost celerity, via a downward salutation, entry by way of the ceramic smoke passage

    He was clad entirely in animal integuments, soiled by the ebony residue from partial oxidation of carboniferous fuels. His resemblance to a street vendor I attributed to the plethora of assorted playthings which he bore dorsally in a commodious cloth receptacle.

    His orbs were scintillant with reflected luminosity, while his submaxillary dermal indentations gave every evidence of engaging amiability. The capillaries of his malar regions and nasal appurtenances were engorged with crimson circulatory fluid which, its chroma suffusing the dermal layers, approximated the retinal sensation reflected by the Prunus avium, or sweet cherry. His amusing sub- and supralabials resembled nothing so much as a flexible, curved strip of wood associated with the American aborigines and their ambient, hirsute, facial adornment had an absence of coloring comparable to crystalline frozen hydrogen oxide vapor.

    Clenched firmly between his incisors was the posterior projection of acalumet whose gray colloidal aerosol fumes, forming a tenuous ellipticaltorus about his occiput, were suggestive of a decorative seasonal circlet of holly. His visage was wider than it was high, and when he waxed mirthful, his corpulent abdominal region undulated in the manner of inpectinated fruit syrup in a colloidal gel state within a hemispherical container.

    He was of Napoleonic stature, neither more nor less than an obese, jocund, multigenarian gnome, the optical perception of whom rendered me visibly frolicsome despite every effort to refrain from being so affected by this risiblity. By rapidly lowering and then elevating one eyelid and rotating his head slightly eccentricly, he indicated that trepidation on my part was superfluous.

    Without utterance, but with noticeable dispatch, he commenced filling the aforementioned appended hosiery with various of the articles of merchandise extracted from his aforementioned previously dorsally transported cloth receptacle.

    Upon completion of this task, he executed an abrupt pi radian rotation about the vertical axis, placed a single manual digit in lateral juxtaposition to his olfactory organ, inclined his cranium forward in a gesture of leave taking, and effected his egress by salutation up the smoke passage through which he had made ingress.

    He then propelled himself in a short vector onto his rustic winter conveyance. Contracting his oral sphincter, he emitted a shrill series of notes to the antlered quadrupeds of burden and proceeded to soar aloft in a movement hitherto observed chiefly among the seed bearing portions of a common weed. But I overheard his parting exclamation, audible immediately prior to his vehiculation beyond the limits of visibility:

    "Ecstatic Yuletide to the planetary constituency, and to the selfsame assemblage, my sincerest wishes for a salubriously beneficial and gratifyingly pleasurable period between sunset and dawn."
    Laissez les bon temps rouler! Going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more than standing in a garage makes you a car.** a 4 day work week & sex slaves ~ I say Tyt for PRESIDENT! Not to be taken internally, literally or seriously ....Suki ebaynni IS THAT BETTER ?

  6. #16
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    THE XMAS-FILES
    by Frank Cammuso and Hart Seely



    57 ELM STREET
    BETHLEHEM, PA.
    11:51 P.M., DECEMBER 24TH


    We're too late! It's already been here. Mulder, I hope you know what you're doing.

    Look, Scully, just like the other homes: Douglas fir, truncated, mounted, transformed into a shrine; halls decked with boughs of holly; stockings hung by the chimney, with care.

    You really think someone's been here?

    Someone, or something.

    Mulder, over here -- it's a fruitcake.

    Don't touch it! Those things can be lethal.

    It's O.K. There's a note attached: "Gonna find out who's naughty and nice."

    It's judging them, Scully. It's making a list.

    Who? What are you talking about?

    Ancient mythology tells of an obese humanoid entity who could travel at great speed in a craft powered by antlered servants. Once each year, near the winter solstice, this creature is said to descend from the heavens to reward its followers and punish disbelievers with jagged chunks of anthracite.

    But that's legend, Mulder -- a story told by parents to frighten children. Surely you don't believe it?

    Something was here tonight, Scully. Check out the bite marks on this gingerbread man. Whatever tore through this plate of cookies was massive -- and in a hurry.

    It left crumbs everywhere. And look, Mulder, this milk glass has been completely drained.

    It gorged itself, Scully. It fed without remorse.

    But why would they leave it milk and cookies?

    Appeasement. Tonight is the Eve, and nothing can stop its wielding.

    But if this thing does exist, how did it get in? The doors and windows were locked. There's no sign of forced entry.

    Unless I miss my guess, it came through the fireplace.

    Wait a minute, Mulder. If you're saying some huge creature landed on the roof and came down this chimney! You're crazy. The flue is barely six inches wide. Nothing could get down there.

    But what if it could alter its shape, move in all directions at once?

    You mean, like a bowl full of jelly?

    Exactly. Scully, I've never told anyone this, but when I was a child my home was visited. I saw the creature. It had long white shanks of fur surrounding its ruddy, misshapen head. Its bloated torso was red and white. I'll never forget the horror. I turned away, and when I looked back it had somehow taken on the facial features of my father.

    Impossible.

    I know what I saw. And that night it read my mind. It brought me a Mr. Potato Head, Scully. It knew that I wanted a Mr. Potato Head!

    I'm sorry, Mulder, but you're asking me to disregard the laws of physics. You want me to believe in some supernatural being who soars across the skies and brings gifts to good little girls and boys. Listen to what you're saying. Do you understand the repercussions? If this gets out, they'll close the X-Files.

    Scully, listen to me: It knows when you're sleeping. It knows when you're awake.

    But we have no proof.

    Last year, on this exact date, SETI radio telescopes detected bogeys in the airspace over twenty-seven states. The White House ordered a Condition Red.

    But that was a meteor shower.

    Officially. Two days ago, eight prized Scandinavian reindeer vanished from the National Zoo, in Washington, D.C. Nobody -- not even the zoo keeper -- was told about it. The government doesn't want people to know about Project Kringle. They fear that if this thing is proved to exist the public will stop
    spending half its annual income in a holiday shopping frenzy. Retail markets will collapse. Scully, they cannot let the world believe this creature lives. There's too much at stake. They'll do whatever it takes to insure another silent night.

    Mulder, I ...

    Sh-h-h. Do you hear what I hear?

    On the roof. It sounds like a clatter. The truth is up there. Let's see what's the matter...



    Laissez les bon temps rouler! Going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more than standing in a garage makes you a car.** a 4 day work week & sex slaves ~ I say Tyt for PRESIDENT! Not to be taken internally, literally or seriously ....Suki ebaynni IS THAT BETTER ?

  7. #17
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    A CAT'S CHRISTMAS

    'Twas the night before Christmas
    and all through the house
    Not a creature was stirring,
    not even a mouse.

    'Cuz the cat had pounced on him
    and tore him apart-
    Ate his mousey intestines
    And chewed up his heart.

    Kitty thought he heard sleigh bells,
    which made him take pause-
    He stopped daintily licking
    the blood from his claws.

    "Must be Santa" thought Kitty
    (that quite clever cat)
    'Cuz nobody else climbs down
    the chimney like that.

    Indeed it was ol' Santa,
    so jolly and fat
    With a load of presents
    and all for the cat!

    "Wow, the best Christmas ever!"
    Kitty thought with a purr,
    Then he coughed up a hairball
    and shed some more fur.



    {{for *chelle* and Raven }}
    Laissez les bon temps rouler! Going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more than standing in a garage makes you a car.** a 4 day work week & sex slaves ~ I say Tyt for PRESIDENT! Not to be taken internally, literally or seriously ....Suki ebaynni IS THAT BETTER ?

  8. #18
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    The Byte Before Christmas


    'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house,
    Not a user was using ... not even a mouse;
    The programs were hung from the bugs in their code,
    In hopes that a guru would soon cure their woes;
    The data were nestled all snug in their beds,
    While versions of software danced in their heads;
    The boss dimmed the lights as I locked up my desk,
    A couple days off and a well-deserved rest;

    Then all of a sudden there came such a clatter,
    I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter.

    Away to the processor I flew like a flash,
    What a terrible sound .. like a massive headcrash;
    The lights they were blinking and beaming aglow,
    The hardcopy printout said "Let service know!";

    When what to my wandering eyes should appear,
    On a silicon wafer ... a field engineer;
    A little device driver, so lively and quick,
    I knew in a moment it must be St. Chip!

    More rapid than Macro, his cursor insane,
    He whistled and shouted like a video game.

    Now, Pascal! Now, Basic!, Now, Fortran and Cobol!
    On RPG! On PL/1, On Dibol and Snobol!
    To the top of the registers, the bottom of core!
    Run diagnostics and see what they store!

    As memory leaves when electricity flies,
    The 'Rep' cracked a smile and loosened his tie;
    He was chubby and plump, said the place was a wreck,
    And I laughed when I saw him (in spite of high tech).

    A wink of his eye, and a twist of his head,
    Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
    He was dressed from his head to his feet in a suit,
    His briefcase was heavy with tools to re-boot.

    With bundles of bits bulging out of his slacks,
    He looked like a pro 'bout to fix a blown pack.
    He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
    Reseated PC boards, then turned with a smirk;

    Hit return with his finger and said "Here it goes,"
    And giving a nod, into the CRT he dove.
    But I heard him exclaim, 'ere leaving the site,
    "Restore the data, and all will be right!"
    Laissez les bon temps rouler! Going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more than standing in a garage makes you a car.** a 4 day work week & sex slaves ~ I say Tyt for PRESIDENT! Not to be taken internally, literally or seriously ....Suki ebaynni IS THAT BETTER ?

  9. #19
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    The Tex-Mex Night Before Christmas
    Written by: Jim and Nita Lee, Dec. 1972



    'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the casa,
    Not a creature ws stirring -- Caramba! Que pasa?
    Los ninos were tucked away in their camas,
    Some in long underwear, some in pajamas,
    While hanging the stockings with mucho cuidado
    In hopes that old Santa would feel obligado
    To bring all children, both buenos and malos,
    A nice batch of dulces and other regalos.

    Outside in the yard there arose such a grito
    That I jumped to my feet like a frightened cabrito.
    I ran to the window and looked out afuera,
    And who in the world do you think that it era?

    Saint Nick in a sleigh and a big red sombrero
    Came dashing along like a crazy bombero.
    And pulling his sleigh instead of venados
    Were eight little burros approaching volados.

    I watched as they came and this quaint little hombre
    Was shouting and whistling and calling by nombre:
    "Ay Pancho, ay Pepe, ay Cuco, ay Beto,
    Ay Chato, ay Chopo, Macuco, y Nieto!"

    Then standing erect with his hands on his pecho
    He flew to the top of our very own techo.
    With his round little belly like a bowl of jalea,
    He struggled to squeeze down our old chiminea,

    Then huffing and puffing at last in our sala,
    With soot smeared all over his red suit de gala,
    He filled all the stockings with lovely regalos --
    For none of the ninos had been very malos.

    Then chuckling aloud, seeming very contento,
    He turned like a flash and was gone like the viento.
    And I heard him exclaim, and this is verdad,

    Merry Christmas to all, and Feliz Navidad!
    Laissez les bon temps rouler! Going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more than standing in a garage makes you a car.** a 4 day work week & sex slaves ~ I say Tyt for PRESIDENT! Not to be taken internally, literally or seriously ....Suki ebaynni IS THAT BETTER ?

  10. #20
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    Do Reindeer Rule?


    'Twas the Night before Christmas, has lots of rhymes.
    But do you think the story really fits with our times?
    We don't have a chimney, our socks are in the wash.
    Dreaming of sugar plums? Oh my gosh!

    And what's with a kerchief? Our dad wears no cap.
    He snores all night, you call that a nap?
    They tell us that Santa is coming tonight.
    He'll be flying in here on a sleigh, YEAH, RIGHT!

    When we were much younger we believed all that stuff,
    Now that we're older we know it's a bluff.
    This Christmas eve is not going as we wish.
    So we snuck down the stairs to turn on the dish.

    All involved in the movie, we wouldn't hear a mouse.
    But this clatter, meant a party at the neighbor's house.
    As we sprang to our feet, to see who was out there,
    We couldn't believe reindeer, no, not on a dare!

    We looked at each other, and gave out a squeak.
    Someone is coming, oh what a sneak.
    No, it's just Dad going to the can.
    No, really look, it's the true fat man.

    He stands by the table and looks through the house
    And takes from his pocket a tiny gray mouse.
    He says, "Ho, Ho Ho, I truly believe,
    There must be a mouse in each Christmas eve."

    His belt buckle shakes as he laughs, look at that...
    My gosh this jolly old guy sure is fat.
    He looks up and sees us, then gives a big smile.
    He says, "I came to see you, let's talk a while.

    "You're grown up kids now that don't believe
    That Santa comes on each Christmas eve.
    You've let your minds be filled with doubt.
    It's simple, without me the fun's left out.

    "I remember the time you both sat on my knee
    Smiles on your faces, eyes sparkling with glee.
    Don't you remember the thrill you felt then?
    With a little belief you can feel it again.

    He turns as he says, "Will you please come out here?
    And there on the driveway stood eight tough reindeer.
    They all nod to us and then snort in a chorus,
    "Who's these cool dudes now standing before us?"

    As the big burley guy crawls into his sleigh.
    We're both thinking, there ain't no way!
    He says, "It's my new team, a real with-it crew.
    I'll let HP give their names to you."

    "Here's E-mail and Smiley, Micro Soft and Chip,
    I'm HP, there's Copy, Surfin' and Blip.
    The big guy is Santa, the North Pole's his home,
    We're with him all year, we hang out in Nome."


    Then they take off and fly up to the roof
    Tap a short rap and give a "high hoof."
    All turn and shout, "Tonight reindeer's rule.
    The eight of us wish you a crazy cool Yule."

    Then Santa shouts, "It's true some things change.
    But believe in the basics." As he speeds out of range.
    This Story dear folks, is so out of sight.
    "Merry Christmas to all,
    and to all a Good-Night!"
    Laissez les bon temps rouler! Going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more than standing in a garage makes you a car.** a 4 day work week & sex slaves ~ I say Tyt for PRESIDENT! Not to be taken internally, literally or seriously ....Suki ebaynni IS THAT BETTER ?

  11. #21
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    A Gothic Night Before Christmas


    'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through our house
    was blasting the "St. Vitus Dance" by Bauhaus;
    Torn fishnets were draped on my forearms with care,
    And two cans of Aquanet applied to my hair;
    My thoughts were of graveyards, and horror and dread,
    Black visions of pain and despair in my head;
    And Bianca, whose face was as pale as the moon,
    Had thrown up her arm for this evening's swoon,
    When out by the gravestones there came such a clatter,
    I sprang from the coffin to find out the matter.


    Away to the window I flew like a ghost,
    Expecting to find a dark devilish host.
    The moon on the breast of the uncaring snow
    Threw ominous shadows on objects below,
    When, before my tormented eyes did traverse,
    But a gorgeous black Crane & Breed carved-panel hearse,
    With a gaunt, shrouded driver, who filled me with fear,
    And eight skeletal creatures that might have been deer.
    More rapid than vultures his coursers they came,
    And his deep Andrew Eldritch voice called them by name;


    Now, Murphy! Now, Morgoth! Now, Torment and Woe!
    On, Dreadful! On, Lovecraft! Mephisto and Poe!
    To the top of the gravestones where fog wisps its breath!
    With a weight on my soul I consign you to death!


    As dead leaves that before hellish hurricanes fly,
    When they flutter like giant bats' wings to the sky,
    So up to the crypt-top the coursers they leapt,
    While dearest Bianca, like death, still but slept.
    And then, to my horror, I heard on the roof
    The clicking and scratching of each bone-white hoof.
    As I drew in my arm, and was whirling around,
    Down the ebony chimney he came without sound.


    He was clad all in black, and he looked oh-so-goth,
    A billowy ensemble of crushed velvet cloth;
    His boots were knee-high, quite buckled and zipped,
    And the Spandex and fishnets 'round his legs were ripped.
    His eyes glowed with bluish fire, deathly and cold,
    A black eye-liner'd face neither youthful nor old.
    A broad lipless mouth drawn with torment and hurt,
    And his sorrowful face was as white as my shirt.


    A smoldering cigarette tight in his grasp,
    Its smoke curling eerily 'round his cloak clasp;
    His gaunt frame was topped with long ebon hair,
    And a sharp scent of brimstone and cloves choked the air.
    His arms were outspread in the shape of a cross,
    And I quailed when I saw him, feeling sorrow and loss;
    He narrowed his eyes with a twist of his head,
    And I felt the full weight of his angst and dread.


    He spoke not a word, but went straight to his task,
    Left some Dead Can Dance CD's; before I could ask,
    A single tear fell across his aquiline nose,
    And then, like an angel, up the chimney he rose;
    He sprang to his hearse, to his team he then hissed,
    And away they all drifted like early dawn's mist.
    But I heard him intone, ere he vanished from sight,

    "Gothic Christmas to all, and to all a good fright!"
    Laissez les bon temps rouler! Going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more than standing in a garage makes you a car.** a 4 day work week & sex slaves ~ I say Tyt for PRESIDENT! Not to be taken internally, literally or seriously ....Suki ebaynni IS THAT BETTER ?

  12. #22
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    Christmas in Space
    Classic Trek- style


    by Eric R. Rountree


    ¹Twas the night before Christmas,
    when all through the decks
    Not a crewman was stirring,
    ¹cept those having sex;

    Their boots were all placed
    by the vent shafts with care,
    In hopes that by morning
    they¹d get some fresh air.

    The Redshirts were nestled
    all snug in their beds,
    While visions of stay¹ng alive
    danced in their heads;

    And Kirk in his gold shirt,
    McCoy in his blue,
    Had just settled down
    for a nice Christmas brew‹

    When from the com panel
    there came such a wail,
    They sprang from their chairs,
    knocking over their ale.

    Away to the panel Kirk flew,
    drenched in beer,
    Snapped on the comm switch
    and barked loudly, ³Kirk here!²

    The squeals that emerged
    from the thing after that
    Sounded just like the Devil
    was strangling a cat;

    When, what to their bombarded ears
    should appear,
    But the music of ³Rudolph
    the Red-Nosed Reindeer,²

    With a voice in the background,
    a murmur of talk,
    That made Kirk exclaim,
    ³Bones . . . That sounds just like Spock.²

    More rapid than bullets
    his syllables came
    As he tested each circuit
    and called it by name‹

    ³Cross Alpha to Beta,
    join Delta to Theta,
    Route Kappa through Lamba,
    and Gamma to Zeta.

    To the end of the circuit,
    the end of the line,
    Now clip a resistor there.
    That should do fine.²

    As Kirk and McCoy listened
    closely to this,
    The comm unit speaker
    let out a long hiss.

    So, off to the turbolift
    both of them flew,
    With a mind to discover
    what Spock was up to.

    And then, in a twinkling,
    they reached the bridge deck,
    Stepped out of the lift
    and began a quick check.

    As they went down the steps
    and were looking around,
    From a nook Spock emerged,
    barely making a sound.

    He was all dressed in gray
    from his head to his foot,
    And his clothes were all tarnished
    with solder and soot.

    A bag of components
    he had in one fist,
    And held in the other,
    a rather long list.

    His eyes didn¹t twinkle,
    his dimples were none,
    Yet somehow it looked
    like he¹d been having fun.

    His mouth, at one corner,
    quirked up just a touch,
    And one eyebrow lifted,
    though not by too much.

    A soldering iron
    he held in his teeth,
    And the smoke from it circled
    his head like a wreath.

    He looked like a man
    with a task to complete
    And nothing would stop him,
    not rain, snow, nor sleet.

    His two colleagues stood there,
    dumbfounded by this.
    McCoy chuckled softly;
    Kirk let out hiss.

    The look in Spock¹s eye
    and the set of his head
    Soon gave them to know
    he would not go to bed.

    He spoke not a word,
    but went straight to his work,
    And tuned all the sensors
    then turned back to Kirk,

    And pressing a button
    and counting to three,
    He lit up the bridge
    like a huge Christmas Tree.

    His work done, he nodded,
    and walked toward the lift
    As his friends stared in awe
    at his luminous gift.

    But they heard him exclaim,
    his voice with good-will rife,
    ³Merry Christmas! And to you all,
    Peace and Long Life!²


    ----------

    Based on "A Visit From Saint Nicholas" by Clement Clarke Moore
    Adaptation copyright 1991, Eric R. Rountree

    This work may be freely distributed provided the above notice is included intact..
    Laissez les bon temps rouler! Going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more than standing in a garage makes you a car.** a 4 day work week & sex slaves ~ I say Tyt for PRESIDENT! Not to be taken internally, literally or seriously ....Suki ebaynni IS THAT BETTER ?

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