SING A SONG OF CHRISTMAS:
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'Twas the Night before a Scooby Christmas
Author: the RKT writers Not a vampire was stirring, nor a demon from hell. The stakes were whittled till they were sharp and ready, To give the Big Bad's minions a welcome so deadly. The vampires were nestled all snug in their graves, While visions of Slayer's blood danced in their veins. And Tara in her jammies and I in mine too, were thinking of something more fun we could do. When up from the hellmouth there arose such a groan, A cry that tore through the house and chilled to the bone. I leapt from the bedside, and to my dismay, Found my feet were quite tangled in the sheets disarray. The moon on the breasts of my sleepy blonde girl, Caressed her sweet curves like a dreamy white pearl When, what to my post-coital eyes should appear, But a scantily-clad slayer, holding eight steins of beer. With a sharpened wood stake, so deadly and pointed, I knew in a moment she was the Powers' anointed. More punchy than Colbert her puns they dropped, As she danced round the 'pires, 'till they poofed and popped. Now Spikey! Now, Giles! Dawnie, now you! On, Riley! On, Walsh, and the Initiative too! To the new SUV, and then to the mall! Now shop, shop, shop, shop all Fall. But dry heaves that subsequent to the steins blew, Put an end to their fun, (as dry heaves tend to do). So ran to the Magic Box the tipsy group in a hurry, To find spells and herbs to keep their frayed nerves steady. But then in a twinkling they heard sounds like a fire, The scratching and clawing of each little vampire. As they drew out their stakes and were turning around, Busted through the front door the vampires came with a bound. The front one was all broody, his shoulders quite broad, And he wore all dark colors from his head to his foot. His fangs were both dripping with gory red blood That flowed from his mouth to his chin in a flood. His eyes were deeply set with a frown tinged with worry As he wiped away the blood -- which tasted of cherry! His muscle-y arms held up a menacing crossbow And the skin of his chin had a five o'clock shadow. The gleam in his eye was not murderous rage, But love for the Slayer, if I'm any gauge. He turned to mumble at a friend he called "Nelly" Or "Nancy" perhaps. I simply couldn't tell 'e. He was skinny and tall, a conceited vamp, I laughed at his posturing, in spite of the damp. He seemed quite content in this charge badly-led And their apathy in sum left me shaking my head. He spoke not a word but a smile in his eyes Was reflected in ours as we all yelled "Surprise!" And laying his hand on a large pint of stout, He gave a quick chug, and fell down with a shout. I laughed at his antics, and threw streamers at him While Tara led the others on a song and a whim. A greeting from the Scoobies, large and small, "Happy Christmas, dear Kittens, we love you all."  |
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