" 'Twas The Night Before Christmas" (nontraditional ) Collection ...

Letter From Santa


Dear ___________,

I have been watching you very closely to see if you have been good this year, and since you have, I will be telling my elves to make some goodies for me to leave under your tree at Christmas.

I was going to bring you all the gifts from the "Twelve Days of Christmas," but we have had a little problem up here.

The Twelve Fiddlers Fiddling have all come down with VD from fiddling with the Ten Ladies Dancing. The Eleven Lords a Leaping have knocked up the Eight Maids of Milking, and the Nine Pipers Playing have been arrested for doing weird things with the Five Golden Rings. The Four Calling Birds, Three French Hens, Two Turtle Doves, and the Partridge in a Pear Tree have me up to my knees in bird poop.

On top of all this, Mrs. Claus is going through menopause, eight of my reindeer are in heat, the elves have joined the Fey Liberation and some moron has scheduled Christmas in Poland for the 5th of February.

Sincerely,

Santa

[b]

The Night Before Christmas in Brooklyn

'Twas the night before Christmas,
Da whole house was mella,
Not a creature was strirrin',
Cuz I had a gun unda da pilla.

When up on da roof
I heard somethin' pound,
I sprung to da window,
To scream, "YO! Keep it down!"

When what to my
Wanderin' eyes should appear,
But da Don of all elfs,
And eight friggin' reindeer!

Wit' slicked back black hair,
And a silk red suit,
Don Christopher wuz here,
And he brought da loot!

Wit' a slap to dare snouts
And a yank on dare manes,
He cursed and he shouted
And he called dem by name

"Yo Tony, Yo Frankie,
Yo Vinny, Yo Vito,
Ay Joey, Ay Paulie,
Ay Pepe, Ay Guido!"

As I drew out my gun
And hid by da bed,
He flew troo da winda
And slapped me 'side da head.

"What da hell you doin'
Pullin' a gun on da Don?
Now all you're gettin' is coal,
You friggin' moron!"

Den pointin' a fat finga
Right unda my nose,
He twisted his pinky ring,
And up da chimney he rose.

He sprang to his sleigh,
Obscenities screamin',
Away dey all flew,
Before he troo dem a beatin'.

Den I heard him yell out,
What I did least expect,

"Merry Friggin' Christmas to all,
And yous better show some respect!"

Military Night Before Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the skies,
Air defenses were up, with electronic eyes.
Combat pilots were nestled in ready-room beds,
As enemy silhouettes danced in their heads.

Every jet on the apron, each SAM in its tube,
Was triply-redundant, linked to the Blue Cube,
And ELINT and AWACS gave coverage so dense
That nothing that flew could slip through our defense.

When out of the klaxon arose such a clatter
I dashed to the screen to see what was the matter;
I increased the gain and then, quick as a flash,
Fine-adjusted the filters to damp out the hash.

And there found the source of the warning we'd heeded:
An incoming blip, by eight escorts preceded.
"Alert status red!" went the word down the wire,
As we gave every system the codes that meant "FIRE!"

On Aegis! Up Patriot, Phalanx and Hawk!
And scramble our fighters--let's send the whole flock!
Launch decoys and missiles! Use chaff by the yard!
Get the kitchen sink up! Call the National Guard!

They turned toward the target, moved toward it, converged.
Till the tracks on the radar all finally merged,
And the sky was lit up with a demonic light,
As the foe met his fate in the high arctic night.

So we sent out some recon to look for debris,
Yet all that they found, both on land and on sea
Were some toys, a red hat, a charred left leather boot,
Broken sleigh bells, white hair, and a deer's parachute.

Now it isn't quite Christmas, with Saint Nick shot down.
There are unhappy kids in each village and town.
For the Spirit of Christmas can't hope to evade
All the web of defenses we've carefully made.

But a crash program's on: Working hard, night and day,
All the elves are constructing a radar-proof sleigh.

So let's wait for next Christmas,
in cheer and in health,
For the future has hope:
Santa's coming by stealth!

The Night Before Christmas - At The Mall


Twas the night before Christmas,
and all through the mall,
Not a creature was idle,
shoppers least of all;

The merchandise was placed
in the windows with care,
In hopes that great sale shoppers
soon would be there.

The parents were hoping
to keep out of the red,
While visions of tax returns
danced in their heads;
And Ma in her overcoat
and Pa in his fleece,
Headed to the mall
despite a tight winter squeeze.

When out from the womenswear,
there arose such a clatter,
We looked up from our wares
to see what was the matter.
Away to the sales rack
we flew like a flash,
Tore off the clothing
and paid it with cash.

The moms with kids
were all in tow,
The stores were all aglow,
When all at once
we saw him appear,
A fat old man
with a great white beard!

With all the bustle
so lively and quick,
We knew in a moment
it was just a trick.
Ten bucks for a photo,
on the lap of a man?
Better to catch bargains
and shop while we can!

"Now Visa!
Now Mastercard!
and American Express!
On Discover,
on bank cards,
on personal checks!
To the front of the line,
to the front of the store!
I want it all!
And I want it more!"

As we marched to the car
with bags in our hands,
We were startled
to see a hungry old man.
As he watched us walk past,
down his face rolled a tear.
His clothes were dull rags,
and no one drew near.

And suddenly,
we felt so ashamed.
The fake glow from the stores
had already waned.
For here was someone
who reminded us so dear,
Of One who had come
to end all our fear.

And lo!
Above the mounting spectacle of greed,
Shone a bright star for all to take heed;
That Christmas is more than material things,
It is HIM who we celebrate,
and the joy that He brings.

A Networkologist's Christmas


"'Tis the night before Christmas,"
I thought with a frown.
I was stuck at the office.
The network was down.
The routers were hung in the closet.
All crashed.
Their tables had holes in their data.
All trashed.

Remote distribution, it seems,
just for fun,
Had erased DLLs
Windows needed to run
On 84 desktops
way down in accounting.
I sat stunned at my desk,
my blood pressure mounting.

When all of a sudden
there arose such a clatter,
I saw that a server
had something the matter.
There was smoke coming out
of the main hard disk drive.
"No problem," I thought.
"I'm set up with RAID 5."

But I found out the system
I thought was unstoppable
Had disk drives that turned out
completely unswappable!
"No problem," I thought.
"I've tape backup to thank."
And then I discovered
my backups were blank.

The UPS burped,
and its lights all went out.
I started to scream!
I started to shout!
But nobody heard
as I vented my rage.
My gurus were all
on vacation those days.

And nobody's tech support
answered the phone.
I was nose deep in trouble,
completely alone.
When out at reception,
I heard a soft knock.
As the hands just touched
midnight on my desktop clock.

"What's your problem?" he asked.
"Never mind, friend, I know.
I checked out your network five hours ago.
I did some proactive analysis, so
I knew that this time bomb
was going to blow."
Who was this guy?
Who did he think he was?
He was dressed in red coveralls,
white beard, black gloves.
His eyes had the twinkle of technical genius.

His smile cut down
personal distance between us.
He spread out his tools,
and went straight to his work.
"Whoever configured this network's a jerk,"
He said with a :0 as he quickly rebooted,

Uploaded some software,
and smoothly rerouted
The LAN to a WAN
that he quickly supplied
With bandwidth
at least 20 gigabits wide
That went via wireless, I think, LEO,

To tech support elves
waiting at the North Pole.
"Now bridging,
now routing,
now Ethernet hubs!"
He chanted as each piece
of hardware he rubbed.
"Cheer up, my good friend!
Lose that mindset so tragic!

Technology often looks
just like some magic
To people who don't understand
what we do.
Now a switch, emulation,
now middleware glue!
Look at the protocols,
check one or two,

Debug a bit, test a bit,
presto! We're through!"
My data was back!
Every system checked out!
Tears of joy wet my face
as I wandered about.
"How can I thank you?
You must be Saint Nick!"

He said, "Really, my friend,
it's not such a great trick,
If you don't give up hope,
focus on what you're doing,
And read all your issues
of NETWORK COMPUTING."
And I heard him exclaim,
as his reindeer were coursing,
"Merry Christmas to all! And consider outsourcing!"

The Biker's Night Before Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the pad,
There was nada happenin', now thats pretty bad.
The woodstove was hung up in that stocking routine,
In hopes that the Fat Boy would soon make the scene.

With our stomachs packed with tacos and beer,
My girl and I crashed on the couch for some cheer.
When out in the yard there arose such a racket,
I ran for the door and pulled on my jacket.

I saw a large bro' on a '56 Pan
Wearin' black leathers, a cap, and boots (cool biker, man).
He hauled up the bars on that bikeful of sacks,
And that Pan hit the roof like it was running on tracks.

I couldn't help gawking, the old guy had class.
But I had to go in -- I was freezing my ass.
Down through the stovepipe he fell with a crash,
And out of the stove he came dragging his stash.

With a smile and some glee he passed out the loot,
A new jacket for her and some parts for my scoot.
He patted her fanny and shook my right hand,
Spun on his heel and up the stovepipe he ran.

From up on the roof came a great deal of thunder,
As that massive V-twin ripped the silence asunder.
With beard in the wind, he roared off in the night,
Shouting, "Have a cool Yule, and to all a good ride!"

Chatting On The Night Before Christmas


Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house.
Not a creature was stirring, except for my mouse.
No kids lived with me, so I thought I would chatter.
There'd be no darn reindeer, and so stupid clatter.

There'd be no fat elf coming through my chimney.
I'll be alone, my computer and me.
I won't race to the window to see him arrive.
I'll just sit right here...with windows ninety-five.

There's no one I know, as I'm surfing around.
None of my regular buddies are found.
I went in some chat rooms but quickly got out.
Age, sex, location is all that's about.

As I was about to go check out the net.
I got an E-mail which I didn't expect.
A lady told me she had read my profile.
And, asked if I might like to chat for a while.

She said if I didn't, then she would just leave.
But she was so lonely, on this Christmas Eve.
She said it's the first time, she'd ever been on.
But, she heard, computers could be so much fun.

She said the computer was usually locked tight.
But, she said, her husband left it on tonight.
He's away on some business, He'll be gone all night.
So, she thought she'd use it, I guess it's all right.

She started to tell me about her whole life.
How she was expected to be a good wife.
She talked of her anger, frustrations, and needs.
Because she was forced to do such silly deeds.

She talked on and on, from one thing to the next.
Then finally told me.....she was oversexed.
She didn't have sex with her husband, she told.
He was always too busy and getting too old.

Then she wrote me something that made my heart vex.
She asked me to teach her to have cyber-sex.
I said, if she wanted me to, that I could.
Then after an hour, she got really good.

After five hours, my fingers were sore.
I told her that I couldn't continue anymore.
She said that was fine, because she was tired too.
And anyway her husband, soon would be due.

She said she would be on, the same time next year.
Then asked if I wouldn't mind, meeting her here.
She said only on this night, she could be found
It is only this night, her husband leaves town.

She said bye and signed off...and I had to pause.
I think I just cybered with Mrs. Santa Claus!

A Star Trek Night Before Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the decks
Not a crewman was stirring, 'cept those having sex;
Their boots were all placed by the vent shafts with care,
In hopes that by morning they'd get some fresh air.

The Redshirts were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of stay'ng 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 comm 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, "Kirk here!"

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 "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer,"

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

More rapid than bullets his syllables came
As he tested each circuit and called it by name--
"Cross 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."

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 didn't twinkle, his dimples were none,
Yet somehow it looked like he'd 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 Spock's 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,
"Merry Christmas! And to you all, Peace and Long Life!"

----------

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

Lookin for the inner city one called Da Nite befo crimmas LOL

You asked for it .....

Ebonics Christmas

'Twas da night befo' Christmas & all in the hood,
Not a homie was stirring cuz it was all good.
The tube socks was hung on the window sill
and we all had smiles up on our grill.
Mookie and BeBe was snug in the crib
in the back bedroom, cuz that's how we live.
And Moms in her do-rag and me with my nine,
had just gotten busy cuz girlfriend is fine.

All of a sudden a lowrider rolled by,
Bumpin' phat beats cuz the system's fly.
I bounced to the window at a quarter pas'
'Bout ready to pop a cap in somebody's ass!
well anyway....

I yelled to my lady, Yo peep this!
She said, Stop frontin' & just mind yo' bidness.
I said, for real doe, come check dis out.

We weren't even buggin', no worries, no doubt.
Cuz bumpin' an thumpin' from around da way
Was Santa, 8 reindeer and a sleigh.

Da beats was kickin', da ride was phat
I said, "Yo red Dawg, you all that!"
He threw up a sign and yelled to his boyz,
"Ay yo, give it up, let's make some noise!"
To the top of the projects & across the strip mall,
We gots ta go, I got a booty call!"

He pulled up his ride on the top a da roof,
and sippin' on a 40, he busted a move.

I yelled up to Santa, "Yo ain't got no stack!"
he said, "Damn homie, deese projects is wack!
But don't worry black, cuz I gots da skillz
I learnt back when I hadda pay da billz."
Out from his bag he pulled 3 small tings
a credit card, a knife, and a bobby pin.
He slid down the fire exscape smoove as a cat,
and busted the window wit' a b-ball bat.

I said, "Whassup, Santa? Whydya bust my place?"
he said,"You best get on up out my face!"
His threads was all leatha, his chains was all gold,
His sneaks was Puma and they was 5 years old.

He dropped down the duffle, Bulls logo on the side.
Santa broke out da loot and my mouf popped open wide.
A wink of his eye and a shine off his gold toof,
He cabbage patched his way back onto the roof
He jumped in his hooptie wit' rims made of chrome,
To tap that big booty waitin' at home.

And all I heard as he cruised outta sight,
was a loud and hearty.....
"WEEESST SIIIIDE!!!!!!!"

'Twas The Homebrewer's Night Before Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house,
Every creature was thirsty, including the mouse...
The steins were empty, and the bottles were too
The beer had been drunk with no time to brew.

My family was nestled all snug in their beds
While visions of Christmas Ale foamed in their heads.
Mama in her kerchief lamented the drought,
She craved a pilsner and I, a stout.

When out on the lawn, there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter.
Away to the kitchen, I flew like a flash,
Opening the door with a loud bang and crash!

I threw on the switch and the lights, all aglow,
Gave a luster of mid-day to the brew-pot below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear
But Gambrinus himself, the patron of beer.

With a look in his eye, so lively and quick,
He said, "You want beer? Well, here, take your pick."
More rapid than eagles, his recipes came
As he whistled and shouted and called them by name.

"Now, Pilsener! Now, Porter! Now, Stout and Now Maerzen!
On, Bitter! On, Lager! On, Bock and On Weizen!"
"To the top of the bottles, the short and the tall,
Now brew away, brew away, and fill them all!"

As dried hops before a wild hurricane fly,
And then, without warning, settle down with a sigh,
So towards the brew-pot, the ingredients flew,
Malt extract, roasted barley and crystal malt, too.

And then in a twinkling, I heard it quite plain,
The cracking open of each barley grain.
As I drew in my head and was turning around,
Into the kitchen, he came with a bound.

He was dressed like a knight, from his head to his toes,
With an old family crest adorning his clothes.
A bundle of hops, he had flung on his back,
And the brewing began when he opened his pack.

His hops were so fragrant! His barley, how sweet!
The adjuncts included Munich malt and some wheat.
The malted barley was mashed in the tun,
Then boiled with hops in the brew-pot 'till done.

Excitement had me gnashing my teeth,
As the sweet smell encircled my head like a wreath.
Beer yeast was pitched, both lager and ale,
The wort quickly fermented, not once did it fail.

It was then krausened, or with sugar primed,
And just being bottled when midnight had chimed.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know, I'd be shortly in bed.

He spoke not a word but kept on with his work,
And capped all the bottles, then turned with a jerk.
And laying a finger alongside his nose,
He belched (quite a burp!) before he arose.

Clean-up was easy, with only a whistle,
And away the mess flew, like the down on a thistle.

And I heard him exclaim, 'ere he left me the beer,
"Merry Christmas to all and a HOPPY New Year!"