From our friend Biff Thiele,
'Twas the Night before Christmas
'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house,
not a creature was stirring, 'cept Johnny DeLouse.
He polished his gun and topped his Halo agitator,
awaiting old Santa, who'd be by some time later.
A cruel trick Santa played on last Christmas Day,
when he left poor Johnny a cheap old Stingray.
He worked through the summer as a grocery shelf stocker,
and he saved and he saved for a trick Autococker.
He awaited St. Nick in a tactical crouch,
his jersey matched perfect, his mom's brand new couch.
His red dot cast eerie a glow on the place,
as he waited for Santa to show his fat face.
When out on the roof there arose such a clatter,
that Johnny got ready for Santa to splatter.
He pulled down his Flex 7s and chambered a ball,
'cause Santa was here, and was fixing to call.
Now Santa's no dummy, he has intuition,
he took down the chimney his own ammunition.
He wore an Invision and sported an X-Mag,
A case of Evil tucked away in his bag.
Those volleys which followed was more than just fair,
the paintballs collided in the midst of the air.
Johnny dove for new cover, and Santa moved too,
the place would be wrecked before they were through.
As their hoppers went empty and their shooting did stop,
Johnny wiped off his goggles, he couldn't see squat.
Old Santa was crouching on one ancient knee,
and stacking the presents under the tree.
Johnny was aiming to shoot at him some more,
when the sight in his sights made his jaw hit the floor.
Santa ignored him, in his eye was a glisten,
as he laid out for Johnny a nitrogen system.
Santa went up the chimney as quick as he'd come.
He left Johnny dripping paint, and emotionally numb.
He'd ambushed old Santa and was now feeling mean,
but Santa laughed last, he left him to clean.
Johnny straightened the stockings and he wiped up the paint.
He cleaned until morning, he thought he might faint.
Santa's an awesome player, he thought in his head,
as he trudged to his bedroom and into his bed.
Don't wait up for Santa on this Christmas Eve,
that jolly old fat guy has a trick up his sleeve.
If you've revenge in your eye like Johnny DeLouse,
you'll only get spanked and end cleaning the house.
'Twas the Night before Christmas
'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house,
not a creature was stirring, 'cept Johnny DeLouse.
He polished his gun and topped his Halo agitator,
awaiting old Santa, who'd be by some time later.
A cruel trick Santa played on last Christmas Day,
when he left poor Johnny a cheap old Stingray.
He worked through the summer as a grocery shelf stocker,
and he saved and he saved for a trick Autococker.
He awaited St. Nick in a tactical crouch,
his jersey matched perfect, his mom's brand new couch.
His red dot cast eerie a glow on the place,
as he waited for Santa to show his fat face.
When out on the roof there arose such a clatter,
that Johnny got ready for Santa to splatter.
He pulled down his Flex 7s and chambered a ball,
'cause Santa was here, and was fixing to call.
Now Santa's no dummy, he has intuition,
he took down the chimney his own ammunition.
He wore an Invision and sported an X-Mag,
A case of Evil tucked away in his bag.
Those volleys which followed was more than just fair,
the paintballs collided in the midst of the air.
Johnny dove for new cover, and Santa moved too,
the place would be wrecked before they were through.
As their hoppers went empty and their shooting did stop,
Johnny wiped off his goggles, he couldn't see squat.
Old Santa was crouching on one ancient knee,
and stacking the presents under the tree.
Johnny was aiming to shoot at him some more,
when the sight in his sights made his jaw hit the floor.
Santa ignored him, in his eye was a glisten,
as he laid out for Johnny a nitrogen system.
Santa went up the chimney as quick as he'd come.
He left Johnny dripping paint, and emotionally numb.
He'd ambushed old Santa and was now feeling mean,
but Santa laughed last, he left him to clean.
Johnny straightened the stockings and he wiped up the paint.
He cleaned until morning, he thought he might faint.
Santa's an awesome player, he thought in his head,
as he trudged to his bedroom and into his bed.
Don't wait up for Santa on this Christmas Eve,
that jolly old fat guy has a trick up his sleeve.
If you've revenge in your eye like Johnny DeLouse,
you'll only get spanked and end cleaning the house.
Comment