S.F.W.
12-24-2010, 12:26 PM
I don't claim this to be good, I struggled with portions. Edits welcome, as long as they keep the spirit.
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the forum
Not a creature was stirring, not even a Mty Mous;
The stockings were hung by the exhaust pipes with care,
In hopes that St. Nextmod soon would be there;
The members were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of spring mods danced in their heads;
And mamma in her hoodie, and I in my toque,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a headlight flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the hood of the new-washed 3
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature Element, and eight tiny 3's,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nextmod.
More rapid than Honda's his 3's they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, phil! now, Phillie! now, cwp_sedan and Foxy!
On, Fobio! on N00bmeister! on, whiteomega and JonJon!
To the top of the driveway! to the top of the garage!
Now drive away! drive away! drive away all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the cars they flew,
With the Element full of mods, and St. Nextmod too.
And then, a bass thump, I heard on the roof
The squealing and gripping of each little tire.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nextmod came with a bound.
He was dressed all in branded apparel, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of mods he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a member just opening his trunk.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like hella horns, his nose like an HID!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a 2010 smile,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the car;
The stump of a cigarette he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a hat;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bass rattled trunk.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the cars; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his element, to his team gave a honk,
And away they all flew like the plush of a microfibre cloth.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
""Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the forum
Not a creature was stirring, not even a Mty Mous;
The stockings were hung by the exhaust pipes with care,
In hopes that St. Nextmod soon would be there;
The members were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of spring mods danced in their heads;
And mamma in her hoodie, and I in my toque,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a headlight flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the hood of the new-washed 3
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature Element, and eight tiny 3's,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nextmod.
More rapid than Honda's his 3's they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, phil! now, Phillie! now, cwp_sedan and Foxy!
On, Fobio! on N00bmeister! on, whiteomega and JonJon!
To the top of the driveway! to the top of the garage!
Now drive away! drive away! drive away all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the cars they flew,
With the Element full of mods, and St. Nextmod too.
And then, a bass thump, I heard on the roof
The squealing and gripping of each little tire.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nextmod came with a bound.
He was dressed all in branded apparel, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of mods he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a member just opening his trunk.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like hella horns, his nose like an HID!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a 2010 smile,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the car;
The stump of a cigarette he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a hat;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bass rattled trunk.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the cars; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his element, to his team gave a honk,
And away they all flew like the plush of a microfibre cloth.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
""Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."