'Twas The Night Before Githmas

[Nyr]

My gift to you:

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'Twas the night before Githmas, when all through the city
not a PC was kilt in a manner unshitty;
The PKs were done without thought for the ending,
in hopes that Tektolnes would soon come attending.
The children were nestled all snug in a bed,
but nightmares of gypsies filled them with cold dread.
Their mother and father both wore tandu caps,
for fear they'd be easy to pwn in headwraps,
when outside the window there came such a clatter,
to their great surprise, it was a rope ladder.
Away from the window one flew like a hawk,
and wished up to the staff in hopes of a talk.
The light of Lirathu was glowing so brightly,
it revealed to all present a vision unsightly.
Why, what sort of sight brought them back with two yanks?
'Twas an enormous sleigh led by eight undead kanks,
and a sizable mantis with descriptive flaws--
they knew in a moment it was Sandy Claws.
More rapid than erdlu his extinct kanks came
and he whistled and clicked as he called them by name;
(The couple could not understand a damned word--
with such a low "listen," it's amazing they heard!
They could've pasted it publicly on the GDB...
but the staff would just say that it was too IC.)
As dry sands that before the fierce desert storms fly,
when they meet a noob without direction sense high,
so up to the Tower the undead kanks flew,
with a sleigh full of poison--and old Sandy Claws, too.
And then, without warning, a great flash of light
pierced the sky, making day what was formerly night.
Behold:  surrounded by His black robed cronies
floated He-Who-Saved-Us, the Dragon, Tektolnes.
He was dressed all in fur, on his front and his sides,
(how did he find that many gwoshi hides?)
His robe-wearing boys, they had old Tek's back,
prepared to defend their Highlord from attack.
His eyes--oh, they twinkled, and flashed forth with fire,
then the couple beheld a great battle transpire:
Ol' Sandy Claws drew back his giant war bow,
peraine on the tip of his green-fletched arrow.
The stump of a pipe poked right out of Tek's mouth,
and the smoke from the spice began to drift south--
taking the form of a smoke-powered dragon,
it crashed 'gainst the sleigh like a Byn-driven wagon.
Distracted, confused, old Sandy's shot missed
and skewered a Black Robe's wand-clutching fist.
That wand fired off flames at the undead insects:
They burned alive (dead--in some respects).
With sleigh all asunder and kanks all a-fried,
Good Sandy Claws knew that his four arms were tied.
The Highlord just grinned, and he winked at the bug,
his victory certain, he spoke with a shrug.
"I handled Luir and I bested Muk Utep,
battling me was your biggest misstep.
I destroyed a great city--or haven't you heard?
All that it took were five simple words."
Sandy Claw's mandibles weren't designed
to speak in the tongues of dwarf, elf, and mankind,
but defeated, he tried--his words slow and leaden:
"Merry...Githmas...to all...and to all..."


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