The Night Before Christmas (annotated by Freedan)

[Freedan]

Since it's Christmas Eve here (as of writing this), I've decided to share an old Christmas poem with TE (with some additional lines). Enjoy.

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Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. Well, there were termites, but the fumigators are on holiday.

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there. I couldn't find my stocking, so I hung up my jockstrap.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads. The doctor recommended dreaming about heart-friendly foods like whole grain bread and Triscuit crackers, what with obesity being such a widespread problem, but kids are stupid.

And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter. The last time I heard such a clatter, some kids had replaced the Wise Men in my Nativity Scene with Stormtroopers.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash. I also grabbed my gun.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below. So no hiding under the cover of night, assholes.

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer. I shit you not, a sleigh.

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St Nick. The only other obese geriatric that comes by my house is my Father, and he lives in Florida.

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

"Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid! on, on Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!" Then Comet shit on my lawn and Donner knocked over my mailbox. And where the fuck was Rudolph?

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of Toys, and St Nicholas too. Honestly, I don't know why he didn't just knock. He made so much fucking noise out there, I was already up.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St Nicholas came with a bound. Did I mention that I was no longer in my room, looking out the window, and had instead gone to the living room? Because that's kind of important to the story.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot. And burn marks. I had forgotten to put out the fire before I went to bed.

A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack. A little too well-fed for the "homeless guy" kind of peddler... more like the drug-lord kind of peddler that makes kids smuggle the goods for him.

His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry! I suggested he see a doctor to treat what was obviously the early stages of frostbite.

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow. Somehow, he hadn't gotten any ashes or soot in his face.

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath. I coughed loudly and made a comment about getting Emphysema for Christmas, hoping my passive-aggression would clue him in to the fact that he was filling my house with smoke. Santa can't take a hint.

He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly! No doubt due to an overabundance of sugar plums rather than whole wheat.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself! I mean, it's not nice to laugh at the overweight, but this dude was huge; probably hasn't seen his own junk in years.

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread. Though it did make me a bit uncomfortable that he winked at me. I've seen enough prison movies to know where that could go.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk. Didn't touch my jockstrap, though.

And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose! Was the front door not an option?

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle. I'm not sure I understand that metaphor, I just needed a rhyme.

But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!" I considered calling the cops, but I wasn't sure if it counts as burglary if the burglar leaves things. Fuck it, I'm tired and going to bed.

I told my wife what happened the next morning. She thought I was making it up, and threatened to leave me and take the kids if I didn't seek therapy. My marriage is so unhappy. God damn it, Santa.

[inferiare]

Best retelling. absolute best retelling.

[SoulBlazerFan]

I laughed so hard at the old geriatric line.

[Mantaray]

you're so awesome