Twas the Night Before Alien Christmas
Santa
Not a creature was stirring
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the vessel
Not a creature was stirring, nothing really special;
The pallets and crates were in the drop ship bay,
In hopes battle prep would be soon underway,
The troops were silent hooked up in their pods,
Six packs receding from their motionless bods,
And Mother in re-boot and upgrade mode,
I hooked up to the nearest power node,
When out from the starboard the proximity rang,
I tripped on my cord landing with a loud bang,
To the command module I darted and ran,
Fired up the sensors and started a scan,
The monitor flickered and started to glow,
Gradually forming some pictures but slow,
My circuits processed a wondrous scene,
A tiny sled being pulled by eight marines,
Who's been naughty!
it must be St Nick
With a portly old man and white beard so thick,
In a moment I processed it must be St Nick,
Faster than meteors more brilliant than the same,
He raised his arms to signal and call out their names,
Now Hicks, now Vasquez, now Crowe, now Hudson!
On Drake, on Ferro, on Apone, and on Gorman!
Through the sealed airlock! through the damaged bay!
“Now breach that bulkhead and cut it away!”
And then in an instant I heard from the bay,
A thunderous roar as the torch cut away,
As I pressed on the screen for a different view,
Out of a gash in the bulkhead St Nick came through,
He was dressed in body armour from head to toe,
Melted and scarred from the death of many a foe,
A missile launcher was slung across his back,
With a bundle of alien skulls sticking out of a sack,
His eyes, they were a fire burning like the sun,
His sneer showed it had only just begun,
His bright red nose showed not a care or trifle,
Ready to answer all that call with his Pulse Rifle,
Go ahead. Make my eve!
He shoved in another mag
A bandolier of grenades encircled his red cap,
He shoved in another mag in with a mighty slap,
His chin was thrust forward inviting a dare,
He fought them all with hardly a care,
A ripped torn off tail he held with his might,
As the dripping acidic blood burned out of sight,
A creatures jaw shot out at his big belly,
It shattered like a dropped jar of jelly,
He was hard as nails and twice as sharp,
I laughed when he played their ribs like a harp,
With a wink of his eye he put the launcher by his head,
I knew in a moment the aliens would soon be dead,
But a few remained squirming about on the floor,
He booted a head across the bay heading for the door,
He was still jolly and looked like a happy bugger,
I’m certain his belt buckle was made from a face hugger,
Out through the bulkhead and he called to his team,
Our work here is done we can go it would seem,
But I heard his call when the basted out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!”
Based on,
'Twas the Night Before Christmas
or Account of a Visit from St. Nicholas
by
Major Henry Livingston Jr. (1748-1828)
(previously believed to be by Clement Clarke Moore)
