'Twas the night before Christmas
'Twas the night before Christmas and under the house,
A dark creature was stirring that wasn't a mouse.
The stockings had holes, bitten with care,
In hopes of giving St. Nick a good scare.
The children were huddled, shivering in bed,
Hearing noises that filled them with dread.
And Mama in her nightgown, and I in my cap,
Never imagined Santa was a snack.
Then out on our lawn I heard such a clatter,
I just had to go see what was the matter.
Away from that window I ran like a flash,
As something tore through the shutters and ripped up the sash.
The full moon framed something which appeared,
To be an old sleigh and nine beat-up reindeer,
With a single driver so heroic and quick,
I immediately realized was surely St. Nick.
More swiftly than bats they silently came,
But still he screamed and yelled and called all by name,
"Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Rudolph, and Vixen,
Comet, and Cupid, and Donner, and Blitzen.
Don't touch that porch. Avoid garden walls.
Now run away, run away, run away all!"
The rest of the story I'm sorry to say,
Is not very fitting for a holiday.
The zombie does bite him before he can flee.
This is the truth. (Though I doubt you trust me.)
And the rest, as they say, is history.