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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Other · #1330367
Funny twist on a classic

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the cafe
Not a stir stick was stirring, not even for a latte;
The tiny-dancers were hung by the wash sink with care,
and it had been less than an hour since the servers had been there;



(Meanwhile… At Family Game Night)
They were all trying to recuperate from the endless lines,
While orders of decaf non-fat sugar free vanilla double tall mochas still echoed in their minds;
As Robotron tended to the cooking and Morgan manning the tap,
gawked at Erica while she fought with her bottle cap,

When out in living room there arose such a clatter,
Robyn sprang from the grill to see what was the matter.
Away to the Wii she flew like a flash,
Tripped over Mufasa and fell with a crash.

The full moon outside poured in through the window
Which gave the room a sort of soft white glow
when, what to her horrified eyes should appear,
It was Tara and Chelsea and what were two cases of beer.



With precious beer all over the ground,
she knew in a moment more beer must be found.
More rapid than eagles, when rallied they came,
and Robyn whistled and shouted and called them by name:



"Now, Vicki! now, Barbara!
now, Chelsea and Tara!

On, Seth! On Amanda!
On, Phil and Erica!

To the nearest liquor store we mustn’t stall!

Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

Through the air that Crystal did fly,

too bad they failed to that see the cop near by,

so up to the house the beer runners flew,

with Bacardi in their arms, and a speeding ticket too.


And then, in the kitchen, they we remember like a bad dream

that the cakes and cookies were left and Robyn began to scream
As we drew towards the would-be buffet and formed a line

all we saw was two beast cover in chocolate slime.

Max was covered in cake from his head to his toe,

and he ran for his life as Vicki screamed “NOOOO!!”

He made for the bedroom leaving a print with each foot,

We even noticed paw prints on the walls, smeared like soot;

A bundle of jelly beans were all that survived,

And knew Max would never come out alive.
His eyes--how they twinkled! His dimples, how merry!

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,

and the beard on his chin was as white as the snow.

The stump of a cigar held in his teeth,

The smoke encircled his head like a wreath.

He secretly loves morning shows like Regis and Kelly,
Occasionally making fun of me and my bowl full of jelly.

He was shivering and a bit frozen for a right jolly old bloke,



His eyes -- how they twinkled as he was thrown like fairy!

Out the door, now that Robyn was covered in all things dairy!

His grays speckled mouth was drawn up like a bow,

For his belly was full with what God could only know;

The pumpkin bread and ginger cookie was stuck in his teeth,

as Vicki considered choking him with a wreath;

He had a the happiest flour coated face and a little round belly,

That gargled and grumbled as his insides turned to jelly.

His gut was chubby and plump, beyond safe measure,

As Maggie looked on from the couch with extreme pleasure;

We just stared blankly at the mess like we were dead,

and looked at each other with eyes full of dread;

Not a word was spoken, and we went straight to work,

And wiped up the house; then eventually our moods began to perk,

Chelsea poured a shot for everyone to down,

And we laughed hysterically when Erica nearly drown;

We piled onto the many beds and couches as we started to fade ,

And remembered all the good times together we made.



From café Christie Alley did exclaim, as she flicked off the Bev case light,

"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."


© Copyright 2007 Jozen Shaw (jozenshaw at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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