, 02:08 PM
The Night Before Sithmas, by Lord Z'ash.
'Twas the night before Sithmas, when all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a slate-mouse;
The stockings were strung by the heating unit with care,
In hopes that St. Baras soon would be there;
The acolytes all nestled all snug in the cot,
With visions of k'lor'slugs, dripping with snot;
And mama in her life day robe, and I in my pilot's cap,
Had just settled down to a long solistice nap.
When out on the terrace there arose such a clatter,
I sent HK-51 to see what was the matter.
Away to the window he lept like a flash,
And sniped St. Baras square in the ***.
. . . . .
We got coal again this year.