Twas the night before bitmas, and all throughout root,
Not a hipster was stirring, nor wearing a boot,
The eggs were hung by the brick blocks with care,
In hopes that Draco Claus (claws?) soon would be there.
The noobs were nestled snug in their awful homes,
While visions of slugs, in their minds would roam,
And sir zombie brains in his shirt, and I in blue cap,
Had just eaten brains, we set up a trap,
When out on the sand, there arose such a clatter,
I sprang (without jumping, because jumping with swords is... I think you get the idea here...) from my cornerstone to see what was the matter.
Away to the glass blocks, I flew like a flash,
Killed a dire, with a single slash,
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow block,
I'm sure Asedita would say, that snow really does rock,
When what to my wondering bits did appear,
But a bowl of ramen, and eight mods quite near,
With a little red dragon, so sharp were his jaws,
I knew in a moment, he must be St. Claws.
More rapid than lawyer cats, his mods swiftly came,
And he whistled, and used caps lock, and called them by name:
"Now, black_jack, now, meep, now Toxic and Value!
On, retse, on, Xerp, on sapph and Grim!
To the top of Lunargenta, to the top of Xerp's drinking habit stargate,
Now dash away (on road), dash away, dash away.
*casually skips 30 lines and uses comic sans irresponsibly*
Now I heard him exclaim as he /tele'd out of sight,
"Happy Bitmas to all, and to all a good night!"
