A Visit from (St.) Nick... (1/1)
   (yet another twisted little offering from)
   Dianne la Mercenaire
      <moonlight@clever.net>


T'was the night before Christmas and all through TO
	Not a creature was stirring in the city below.

The chains in the Raven we re-hung with care,
	In the hope that dear Janette soon would be there.

Vampire and mortal were both fast asleep,
	And the snow on the ground was at least three feet deep.

And I, quite alone, in the dark of my station
	Had just settled down for an evening's oration.

When out in the night there arose such a racket,
	I sprang from my chair and grabbed my CERK jacket.

Up to the rooftop I flew like a flash,
	(Only barely avoiding a full head-on crash.)

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
	Gave the luster of... well... 
		_moonlight_... to objects below.

When what to my horrified eyes should appear
	But a miniature sled and eight tiny reindeer!

And the driver's big grin looked so like the _brick_,
	I knew in a moment it must be (St.) Nick.

Like a flock of stray pigeons his coursers they came,
	And if _that_ weren't enough, _he called them by name_!

"On Whatever and Whosits...," do you think I could _listen_?
	It was all I could do to stop snarlin' and hissin'.

To the top of the station they came in a rush,
	Just as soon as that little _elf_ hollered out, "Mush!"

He had a thick neck and a big pulsing vein
	That throbbed when he moved, as if under much strain.

He was tender and plump--a right jolly old elf,
	And I drooled when I saw him, in spite of myself.

The venison was gamey, as appetizers go,
	But the big guy?-- like old brandy that goes down _so_ slow.

So to my listeners I purred, 'ere I signed off for the night,
	Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good bite!