Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the cave
Not an author was stirring, for none were that brave.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that the Santa-Claws soon would be there.

The monsters were nestled all snug in their pits,
All hairy, or slimy or covered in zits.
And I wearing only my thin Summer gear,
Shook in my prison with cold and with fear.

When in the main chamber there arose such a clatter,
I slipped from my chains to see what was the matter.
Away to the cell door I flew in a hurry,
Wading up to my waist in a mound of brown slurry.

The unsettling light of the Flickertoad’s glow,
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But eight slavering demon-like monstrous reindeer.

With a malformed old driver who was bent almost double,
I knew in a moment that we were in trouble.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and screamed out their name!

“Now Masher! now, Mauler! Now, Crusher and Killer!
On, Hatred! On, Loathing! On, Spite and on Cilla!
To the edge of the fire pit! To the giant slime ball!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to my cell roof the coursers they flew,
With that sleigh full of evil, and Santa-Claws too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The stomping and scraping of each cloven hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Straight through the ceiling he came with a bound.

He was dressed in black leather, from his foot to his head,
And he stunk of sour milk and of things too long dead.
A sack full of entrails he had flung on his back,
I watched as he swallowed some whole as a snack.

His eyes-how they glared! His talons how nasty!
His nose – like a well-past-its-best Cornish pasty.
His skin had the texture of thick metal mesh,
And his beard had been carved from burnt human flesh.

A small human finger he held tight in his teeth,
He chewed it and chomped it as if it were beef.
He had a broad face and a thick, scaly hide,
When he opened his mouth I heard screaming inside!

He was rancid and rotten, a right wicked sight,
And I wondered if I would survive this dark night!
He suddenly leapt and grabbed hold of my head,
And I knew in mere minutes I was sure to be dead.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
Flashed his sharp fangs and bent down with a jerk.
And chomping and chewing he bit off my nose,
Then gulping it down, through the roof hole he rose!

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a yell,
And away they all flew like a bat out of Hell.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good fright!”

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