Lhorenzho Claus ('Twas The Night Before Christmas)

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the hangar
Not a creature was stirring, not even a hound.
The black jackets were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that Black Frog Logistics soon would be there.

The Rebels were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of exotic dancers danced in their heads.
And Kaeda in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s brap.

When out on the undock there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the newly-formed nebulae
Gave the lustre of shine to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a mad looking Lhorenzho, and eight cynos lit.

With a little old pilot, usually angry and bitter,
I knew in a moment it must be the big hitter.
More rapid than eagles his Rupture it came,
And it whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

"Now cyno alt1! now, cyno alt2! now, cyno in Griffin and Vexor alt too!
On, Probe! On, Heron! on Atron and Kestrel!
To the top of the station! to the top of the dock!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild Rupture fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the turrets.
So up to the undock the projectiles they flew,
With the freighter full of Toys, and Lhorenzho too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The popping and fizzling of each little frig, not bullet proof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney Lhorenzho came with a bound.

He was dressed all in black, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with wreckage and soot.
A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a pirate, just opening his pack.

His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.

The blazing cigar he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like an exploded Wreathe.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!

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 jackets, 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 Rupture, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a cyno lit thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he warped out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"




MB.