Zhig's Amazing Xmas Poem

T'was the night before Christmas
And here is the news:
Not a creature was stirring
Except for our Muse.

The stalkers were hung
By the chimney with care
In hopes that St. Zhiggy
Soon would be there.

The Trivvers were nestled
All snug in their beds
While visions of good Qs
Danced in their heads.

DasBoot in his kercheif
Was writing in CAPS,
And Shadow and Santa
Took winter Cat naps.

Then o'er on the Couch
There arose quite a clatter
Tues slapped folks around
And said, "What the hell is the matter?"

The newbies were put
On ignore in a flash,
and Internal_Despot
Gave 'em all a pink sash.

Then wot-wot to our wondering
Eyes should appear,
But a RealOldBob
And eight tiny BluRainDeer.

OldBob, he was beating
A Disgruntled_Elf,
And Acro was giggling
In spite of herself.

Then we heard Musey say
As she ran out of sight,
"Wooden horses for all,
Marewhee Christmas, Good night!"


The 12 Days of Christmas

December 14th
Dearest John:
I went to the door today and the mail carrier delivered a partridge in a pear tree. What a delightful gift. I couldn't have been more surprised.
With dearest love and affection, Agnes


December 15th
Dearest John:
Today the postman brought your very sweet gift. Just imagine, two turtle doves . . . I'm just delighted at your very thoughtful gift. They are just adorable.
All my love, Agnes


December 16th
Dear John:
Oh, aren't you the extravagant one! Now I must protest. I don't deserve such generosity. Three french hens. They are just darling, but I must insist . . . you're just too kind.
Love Agnes


December 17th
Dear John:
Today the mail carrier delivered four calling birds. Now really! They are beautiful, but don't you think enough is enough? You're being too romantic.
Affectionately, Agnes


December 18th
Dearest John:
What a surprise! Today the postman delivered five golden rings. One for each finger. You're just impossible, but I love it. Frankly, John, all those squawking birds were beginning to get on my nerves.
All my love, Agnes


December 19th
Dear John:
When I opened the door there were actually six geese a-laying on my front steps. So you're back to the birds again, huh? Those geese are huge. Where will I ever keep them? The neighbors are complaining and I can't sleep through the racket. PLEASE STOP!
Cordially, Agnes


December 20th
What's with you and those fucking birds???? Seven swans a-swimming. What kind of goddamn joke is this? There's bird shit all over the house and they never stop the racket. I'm a nervous wreck and I can't sleep all night.IT'S NOT FUNNY.......So stop with those fucking birds.
Sincerely, Agnes


December 21st
OK Buster:
I think I prefer the birds. What the hell am I going to do with eight maids a-milking? It's not enough with all those birds and eight maids a-milking, but they had to bring their own goddamn cows. There is shit all over the lawn and I can't move into my own house. Just lay off me. SMART ASS.


December 22nd
Hey Shithead:
What are you? Some kind of sadist? Now there's nine pipers playing. And hell - do they play. They haven't stopped fooling around with those maids since they got here yesterday morning. The cows are upset and are stepping all over those screeching birds. No wonder they scream. What am I going to do? The neighbors have started a petition to evict me. You'll get yours.
From Ag


December 23rd
You Rotten Prick:
Now there's ten ladies dancing - I don't know why I call those sluts ladies.They've been balling those nine pipers all night long. Now the cows can't sleep and they've got diarrhea. My living room is a river of shit. The commissioner of buildings has subpoenaed me to give cause why the building shouldn't be condemned. I'm setting the police on you.
One who means it, Ag


December 24th
Listen Fuckhead:
What's with the eleven lords a-leaping on those maids and aforementioned "ladies"? Those pipers ran through the maids and have been committing sodomy with the cows. All 234 of the birds are dead. They have been trampled to death in the orgy. I hope you're satisfied, you rotten swine.
Your sworn enemy, Miss Agnes McCallister


December 25th (From the law offices Taeker, Spredar, and Baegar)
Dear Sir:
This is to acknowledge your latest gift of twelve fiddlers fiddling, which you have seen fit to inflict on our client, Miss Agnes McCallister. The destruction, of course, was total. All correspondence should come to our attention. If you should attempt to reach Miss McCallister at Happy Dale Sanitarium, the attendants have instructions to shoot you on sight. With this letter, please find attached a warrant for your arrest.



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