Canonical List of 'Twas the Night Before Christmas Variations
Version 2007.1
Part 19 of 50
January 7, 2007

Compiled by: Matthew Monroe

Archived at:

Contains 849 versions of the classic poem, including headers from most of the posts and credits when available. The versions range from innocent and cute to vulgar and obscene, so read at your own discretion. I have collected most of these versions by searching the newsgroups using Google Groups and the now retired Deja News. I'd be happy to receive any additional versions you might have.

See the Main Index for the complete contents.


Short Title: GameDoom


                The Night Before DOOM: A Poem From the Past.
Last year, about a week before DOOM was released, I wrote a poem about "The
 Night Before DOOM," an obvious parody of "The Night Before Christmas." In
  celebration of DOOM's birthday, Christmas 1995, and in memory of 1994, I
                return "The Night Before DOOM" to everyone.

          T H E - N I G H T - B E F O R E *-D-*-*-O-*-*-O-*-*-M-*
                                Written by:
                Hank Leukart ( )

                        `Twas the night before DOOM,
                         and all through the house,
                  I had set up my multi-playing networks,
                             each with a mouse.
                         The networks were strung,
                          with extra special care
                            in hopes that DOOM,
                            soon would be there.
             The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
            while visions of demons danced through their heads.
                And my computer's processor it was so quick,
                     boy was I glad I bought that 486.
            When out on the Internet there was a Usenet posting,
               I dialed right in to see what it was boasting.
                Off to the news reader I flew like a hound,
                "Oh no," I cried! The news reader was down!
                Frustrated, bewildered, feeling really low,
             I leaned back to see what I heard out the window.
               When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
                 but a group of 6 cars, driving 60 I fear!
               With a big young driver, just look at him go!
                I knew in a moment, it must be John Romero!
                Over the speed limit, his band of cars came,
           And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
                           "Now, Jay! Now, John!
                            Now, Dave and Kevin!
                           On, Adrian! On, Sandy!
                           On, Shawn and Robert!"
                        To the top of the driveway!
                            Don't hit that wall!
            Now stop your car, stop your car, stop your car all!

                   Leaving the car, he entered the house,
               Walking quietly, so as to not wake the spouse.
          He was dressed in a T-shirt, and a a pair of jeans too,
                  I was unsure of what he was going to do.

                  Boxes of DOOM he had flung on his back,
            and he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
         Those boxes - how they sparkled! The shrink-wrap so tight!
         The character was drawn on the front, just ready to fight!

               The Chain Saw and Shotgun he held in his hand,
             Where was the BFG9000?: The best gun in the land.
                  And then I saw it, strapped to his back,
               Along with a copy of the "Official" DOOM FAQ!

               A wink of John's 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,
           Installed it on the network, then turned with a jerk.

                     And placing a hand into his jeans,
                  out came his keys - oh how they gleamed!
            He sprang to his car, to the id team gave a whistle,
        and away they all drove, like DOOM's launching of a missile.

            But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,


Short Title: GameDukeNukem1

Subject:      Another Night Before Christmas...
From: (Brutal)
Date:         1997/12/20
Message-ID:   <>
Newsgroups:   alt.jokes.limericks

        This one is original by me!  Can be found on my homepage...


Twas the night before Christmas and inside the house,
Not a Creature was stirring except for myself.
Stockings were hung on the monitor with care,
So Santa would leave me some software.

I, in my robe, with the computer a glow,
Gave the illusion of work, but in reality, NO!
I was playing Duke Nukem, packs 1 and 2,
No one could beat me, save for a few.

When what to my surprise, a noise, I did hear!
It said' "Make my Day Punk!" and appeared with a Beard.
It was a man in a red suit, with big black boots
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot,
I could see, he was moving my way,
I turned to run, but decided to stay.

He had a laptop, undoubtedly new,
I think it had a tag that said MaryLou.
He bowed his head, and looked at me straight,
"If this is your game, lets play now, why wait?"

I offered a seat, he went straight to work,
He plugged in his laptop and turned with a jerk.
I figured this man, who barged into my room,
Had good reason, for making me stop so soon!

His dimples how merry, his eyes they did twinkle,
A pause he did not take, not even to tinkle.
A mad gamer he was, and an expert I saw,
He used one shotgun and destroyed one and all.

What is this? I mused, how can this be?
He plays like an expert, better than me!
He must be stopped, and put down right now,
Either that, or throw in the towel!

I noticed his glee when he shot at me,
Round my head, on the wall, then he'd flee.
I could see he was toying, playing quite grand,
It was time I got a new weapon, and made a stand.

The best I had met from many a land,
This man was the best, no matter my plan.
He was impossible to beat, I couldn't believe,
He played like an expert, I thought, I would heave!

My years of Duke training paid off at last,
I unloaded the gattling gun into his a**.
He fell very quickly and the game was now done,
This man only smiled at what I had done.

He wasn't mad, or upset, but got up, and unplugged,
I looked at him only to see his arms shrug.
He left my room, and walked down the hall to the right,
Back to the Chimney and into the light,

It was Santa, I now know, by his quick chimney dance,
One finger, a nod, with a sure footed stance!
I figured that I was put to the test,
I passed, colors flying, but now for the rest!

I heard him shout, and he gave a signal,
It sounded more than anything, like a Train Whistle.
Reindeer patiently waiting, who jumped at the chance,
To fly very quickly a hazardous dance.
Down from the roof, and across the front yard.
The little man pushed the deer hard.

And I heard him exclaim as he drove out of site,
"Get ready for next year, train with much might!"
You better be ready, I will too,
Next Christmas, he may destroy you!

Merry Christmas!

  He who findeth the Editorial, finds fortune...
         Or something like that!

   @     Will Wagner (
  / \    Check out My Editorial!


Short Title: GameDukeNukem2

Date: Tue, 21 Dec 1999 12:38:14 -0600

  A Duke Nukem related poem by Tim Vannaman

Twas the night before christmas and all thru the house
I was staying up late while moving my mouse.

All the stockings were hung by the tripbomb with care
With visions of St. Nick being blown everywhere

With I in my jammies and Duke with his gun
We killed alien mutants because it was fun

When up from my rooftop arose such a clatter
I left my PC to see what was the matter

A yellow haired santa w/ a jetpack & rum
exclaimed to us all, "come get some"

as he unloaded his laptop and token ring
he screamed at us all as he hailed to the king

RPG's, pipebombs and shrinkers, a plenty
he told us to shake it while offering us money

A match to the death is what he was offering
and I said "Hey, what are you waiting for, Xmas?"

I got on the 'Net and summoned my buddies
JavaDuke, Jason and Jim came a-running

We launched RPG's aimed right at his shirt
All the while saying, "OOh, that's got to hurt"

He shutdown his laptop, we had passed the test
Shaking his head saying "ooh, what a mess"

"I'll be back next year, for another bout"
So, Until then "Let God sort 'em out"


Short Title: GameEmpire

From: (
Subject: Empire News for December, 2003 
Date: 2003-12-09 11:05:01 PST 

- A Wolfpack Empire Publication
- "All the news that fits, we print."
- December, 2003

> Announcement from Harondor, (#31)  dated Tue Dec  9 15:13:12 2003
'Twas the night before the update, when all through the land
Not a creature was stirring, not even an Orc Band;
The Catapults were stacked in the forts with care,
In hopes that Rohan soon would be there;

The Acme Supports were nestled all snug in their beds,
With visions of the next game dancing in their heads;
While The Man in Harad, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,

When out on the front line there arose such a clatter,
I sprang to the Palantiri to see what was the matter.
The bulletins gushed in and scrolled like a flash,
I Enlisted more mil and double checked my cash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should come into sight,
But an enemy Trebuchet, backed by an army of the light,

With a little old ruler, forces so large and grand,
I knew in a moment it must be the armies of Rohan.
More rapid than eagles their corsairs they came,
He assaulted and attacked, my units he did maim;

"Now, Dwarves! now, Hobbits! now, Calvery and Elves!
On, Cats! on Trebs! on, Rams and Give 'em Hell!
To the top of the fort! to the top of the wall!
Now shell away! shell away! shell away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane flee,
When met with an obstacle, he shelled it to diety,
So closer to my Capital the Units they drew,
With trebuchets full of shells, and Gondor Guards too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard sounds from overhead
of Eagles pinbombing the mil I had once to battle led.
As I drew my bow, and turned around,
Down the chimney came a Wizard's Bolt making a thunderous sound.

My country was occupied, my shells were all spent,
The air defenses were stripped, and my cap was at five percent;
A last ditch advance is futile I thought,
But time for an escape could hopefully be bought.

First I saw Theoden! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, I think he is a fairy!
very odd I thought, for I was expecting a wraith.


Short Title: GameFalcon4(FlightSim)1

   Author:   Brad McDowell
   Date: 1998/12/11
   more headers   author profile

Twas the night before Falcon
  - ode to Pete Bonanni
Twas the night before F4
When all through the house
Not an airman was stirring, 
or using his mouse.

The flightsuits were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that No. 19 soon would be there.

The simmers were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Falcons danced in their heads.

And Pappadoc in his kerchief and I in my cap
Had just settled down to plan our attack.

When back on my six there arose such a clatter,
I yanked on my stick to see what was the matter.

Away in a break turn I flew like a flash,
Popping flares as I went and keeping up my smash.

The flares on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave a luster of midday to objects below,

When, what to my scanning radar should appear,
But an F-16, and eight tiny "reindeer".

With a clever old driver, so lively and neat;
I knew in a moment it must be St. PETE!

More rapid than eagles his missiles they came.
And he hollered and shouted and called them by name.

"Now Amraam!  Now Sparrow!  Now Maverick locked with piper.
On Durandal! On Rockeye!  On target, with my Viper!

At the top of the porch, up against the wall!
Now, fly away! Fly away! Fly away all!"

As dry leaves that before a wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, they blow to the sky,

So onto the housetops the missles they flew
With a rack full of bombs, and St. Pete too!

And then in a twinkling , I saw on the roof
Each bomb exploding in a sweet little poof.

As I drew back my head
and was yanking around,
There was St. Pete
and he came with bound.

He was dressed in his g-suit
from his head to his toe
His clothes were all green
Like an ordinary Joe.

A bundle of missiles
he'd flung from his rack
And he flew like an Ace
One above the pack.

His eyed how they twinkled!  His Viper how merry!
His tanks like roses, his engine like a cherry.

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
An the tip of his wing was as white as the snow!

The stump of a cigar held tight in his teeth
The smoke from the ground rising up like a wreath.

The bombs he'd dropped from the Viper's belly
Made the ground shake like a bowl full of jelly.

He was smart and quick, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself.

An a wink of his eye and a nod of his head
Soon gave me to know I soon would be dead.

He spoke not a word, but went right to work,
And locked on his radar and turned with a jerk.

And laying his finger aside of his stick,
He fired one more missile with a slight little click.

It fired from his ship with a sharp little whistle
And away it flew at me like a damn little missile.

And I heard his exclaim as he drove out of sight,
CHECK SIX, sucker and kiss it goodnight!



Short Title: GameFalcon4(FlightSim)2

From: Jay Williams (
Subject: Twas the night before christmas - Falcon 4 style 
Date: 2002-12-24 03:55:48 PST 

While looking for "Santa catches a 3 wire" I came across the following in
some old archives of mine...

From: "Prowler" 
Subject: Re: T'was the night after the F4 patch
Date: Thursday, December 09, 1999 10:35 AM

In article , says...

Of course anyone may place this on their site.  All I ask is that it be
reproduced faithfully in its entirety without modifications (punctuation
or verse spacing excepted of course).  If you have any questions I can be 
contacted by replacing no-spam with Babylon5.

It was the nigh after the F4 patch, and in my corner of the house,
My eyes they were blurring, my hand on my mouse.
The hard drive defragged, and optimised with care
In hopes speedy disk cache, soon would be there

The latest patch now installed, My system all clean
All extras unloaded, so better frame rates I'd glean
Game Commander on my head, Throttle left and Stick right,
I'd just settled down, to play F4 all night.

When out from my hard drive, arose such a clatter
I sprang open my case, to see whats the matter
On again off again, the light it did flash
My hard drive still moaning, from the extra large cache.

The sound droned right on, and louder did grow
The the sound it fell silent, and I though "Oh, no"
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
The games finally started, I'm finally here!

With a no hesitation, I moved rather quick,
Instant action the choice, I sure fire fun pick.
More rapid than eagles, info overload it came
The buzzers and voices, I called them by name.

Now INS, now MFD, now NAV and FCR
On FCC on OCA on HSD and RWR
To the end of the runway, at the brink of a stall
Now afterburner! afterburner! afterburner all!

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
At the last possible moment, I took to the sky,
So up to cruise altitude, my F-16 flew,
With my weapons all ready, oh now what to do.

And then, in a twinkling, I hear in my ear,
The AWACS is calling, a bandit is near.
As I drew back the throttle and was turning around,
Down from above, the MiG came with a bound.

It was soon on my six, all saddled up good
As his radar locked on, I tried all I could.
A bundle of chaff I flung back as I went,
As one archer did miss, another was sent.

I looked for my wing man, to help with my plight,
But then quickly remembered, I chose solo flight.
Then luck in my favor, though skill I'd avail,
I shook the MiG off, and came round on his tail.

I gave a quick chase, saw his afterburner glow
The smoke from my gun was white as the snow
As I tried to stay with him, now radar lets see
Was that "radar on" now or "Boresight mode B"

He made a broad left bank, and a lock I did see,
So at the top of my lungs, I scream out FOX THREE.
The MiG then broke harder, the old Commie elf
But as he exploded, I laughed in spite of myself.

A wing over left bank, a twist of my head,
Soon gave me to know, I had nothing to dread.
My mission successful, my ego had grown
I turned toward the base, and I headed home.

Its then that I thought, of the year that had passed
The numerous patches, that this was the last.
The team now disbanded, their paychecks no more
Another program finished, its place now in lore.

So to Gabe and the team, each and every last one
Thanks for your efforts, and the great job you've done.


Short Title: GameGrandPrixLegends(GPL)

From: Joe Shaw (
Subject: A GPL Christmas 
Date: 1999/12/16 

A GPL Christmas
by Joe Shaw

'Twas The Night Before Christmas, And All Through The House,
Not A Creature Was Stirring, ĎCept My PC Mouse.
I Was Surfing The Web, For Setup Advice,
For The Right Lotus Toe-In, Iíd Cash In My Wife.

My Line Through The ĎBolica, Was Awfully Poor,
My Top End Pathetic, With Throttle To Floor.
Iíd Spent All My Earnings, Iíd Made Every Deal,
For A P3 Four Fifty, And A Force Feedback Wheel.

When Out On The Lawn There Arose Such A Clatter,
I Sprang From My Desk To See What Was The Matter.
A Strobe Of White Light, Through The Window Did Flash,
It Looked To My Eye, Like A Giant Clock Smash.

I Threw Open The Sash, And What Should I See,
But A White Bearded Driver, In A Red Ferrari.

He Stomped On The Clutch, And Feathered The Gas,
Then Lifted His Goggles, I Could Tell He Was Fast.
He Pulled Down His Scarf, And Flashed Me A Smile,
And Tossed Me A CD, Labelled "Lo1 File".

"Remember," He Said, "The Ones With The Fame."
And With Eyes To The Sky, He Called Out Their Names.
Now Jimmy, Now Graham, Now Denis, And Jochen,
McLaren, And Pedro, Ginther And Irwin.

"Enter Turns Slowly, And Exit With Speed,
And Youíll Get All You Can, From Your Trusty Green Steed."
Then He Shifted To First, And Out Popped The Clutch.
"Iím Off To Zandvoort, And The Grand Prix Thatís Dutch!"

He Peeled Out In First, With Wheelspin Galore,
Looking For Brabhams, That Still Had A Door.
And I Heard Him Exclaim, With Great Holiday Cheer,
"To All A Good Night, Have a GPL Year!"


Short Title: GameLookingGlass

   Author:   SHODAN
   Date: 1998/12/24
Here's a "Twas the Night before Christmas" poem I read on Through the
Looking Glass's website, which I enjoyed so I thought I'd post it here.

Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the
abode, all guards were off duty, which lightened my load.
As I crept through the window, making good time,
I envisioned the loot that soon shall be mine.
As I sneaked down the hall, my footfalls unheard,
my sharp ears did not hear a word.
Then from above came a crash and a squeal,
and I dashed to the shadows for myself to conceal.

Some time past, and I made not a sound,
for my chilling fear that I would be found.
Then slowly I sneaked, from my place of darkness,
to investigate the noise that had broke this nights starkness
As I came to the main hall, and around the corner I did lean,
my eyes widened at the sight I had seen.

A fat man, dressed all in red,
a beard on his chin, and a tall pointy hat on his head.
Must have come through the chimney, I thought to myself,
as the fat man worked as quick as an elf.
He seemed so jolly, and proud of his work,
whilst around the room in the shadows I did lurk.
Peeking around a tree, I got sight of his bag,
a wealth of treasures, all wrapped in a colored rag.

Slowly I waited, blackjack in hand,
for a chance at a place for my swift blow to land.
As he turned his back, to drop coal in a sock,
I made my move, swifter then a tick could follow a tock.
This massive man hit the floor with a *wump*,
his white haired head now bore a large red lump.
My blood froze as I heard a "Whos There?",
and I grabbed the man and the sack, with extreme care.

I stuffed the fat man behind a small decorated tree,
under some boxes so that no one could see.
I put water arrow to string, and into the fire it did fly,
so that wandering eyes, my form could not spy.
A flash at the door, a sizzle, a spark,
and two strange men stepped through the door, into the dark.

They scanned the room, with red laser eyes,
listening for movement, a breath, or cries.

Inside they walked, their guns held high,
my heart raced like fury, and I sure knew why.
One of them turned on a lamp, as bright as the sun,
and I spied a badge on his chest, that read "TriOptimum"
"Seems all clear now," said one to the other,
"False alarm?" he asked. "Yes, another."

One of them left, and one of them stayed,
he seemed to be looking at all the decorations laid.
Without a second thought, I rose my shortbow,
aimed for his neck, and drew it back slow.
He let a scream out as the arrow sunk into his flesh,
and made all the noise one expects from quick death.
His partner dashed in, and stared at the site,
of the fate his friend has befallen, this cold winters night.

"Ill find you, Taffer!" he shouted with rage,
"and Ill flatten you flatter then a cheap book page!"
His headlamp turned bright, he scanned the chamber,
as I crept through the shadows to avoid the danger
Out the door I dashed, making not a sound,
as he continued to search, with only a fat man to be found.
As I quickly walked through the hall, and arrived at a large screen.
A pair of womans green eyes from it did glean.

"You picked the wrong house to rob, Insect."
"What a wonderful present, a new brain to dissect."
I heard a sound behind me, a terrible sound,
and no shadow to hind in could be found.
I turned around slowly, feeling my fever,
and looked in slight dismay, at the evil Cortex Reaver.
My back to a wall, fire arrow quickly drawn,
I calculated quickly this beasts probable brawn.

The flaming arrow flew straight, and made a bulls eye,
but the beast kept approaching, was I to die?
From behind it I caught word, a strange incantation,
"Vas In Flam!" it was, though I may be mistaken.
A bright flash, a gust of wind, and the beast was engulfed in fire,
burning hard and fierce, higher and higher.
The face on the screen called for more cyborgs to attack,
so I cracked it open with my trusty blackjack.

I then turned to look at my unlikely avatar,
and there he was, standing not far.
He was dressed in chain and plate, wearing dragon skin
he glanced casually and grinned at my acquired loots.
"Been busy I see" I nodded a yup.
"Best be gone, for this whole place is stirred up."

He gestured to follow, and after hesitating, I did.
Down the hall and up the stairs he quickly led.
We arrived at a tall shimmering portal.
"A Moongate" he said, "to transport any mortal"
Where are we going? I asked the strange man,
trusting him as much as any Thief can.
"To the rooftop", he said, and asked me to come
as he stepped through portal and it gave a deep humm.

I'll find my own way, I thought, as my rope arrow flew,
out the window and up the wall I went, as all good Thieves do.

I reached the roof, and what did I see,
but the same strange man, sitting in a Pitts S-2B.
"Give me the red sack, please" he asked most kind,
and I gladly did, though I reason I could not find.
"Poor Santa will wake, and his head will hurt,
but he may rest this eve, for he has me to do his work."
I nodded to him, and waved farewell.
He suddenly looked thoughtful, and looked into the bag, as
deep as a well.

He pulled out some lock-picks, a grappling hook, and tripwire.
"Make use of these, when your need is most dire."
I thanked him kindly, and off the roof he sped,
on his Pitts painted gold, silver and red.
And as he flew off into the sky, to the world he did proclaim
great thanks to all, and especially these names.

Thank you Church, LoPiccolo, Leonard, LeBlanc, and Randall.
Thank you, Stellmach, Levine, Brosius, Fermier, and the rest
of you all!

Merry Christmas you Taffers! Enjoy your good lives,
and never forget to Salt the Fries.


Short Title: GameMarathon

   Author:   Borzz
   Date: 1998/12/25
`Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the level,
Not a creature was stirring, except for the devil;
The torches were placed on the walls with great care,
With hopes that some ammo could be found over there;
The Pfhor were nestled all stuck in a room,
While vapors of missiles flew in with a boom;
An enforcer in yella', and I with one clip,
Had just time to notice - that strange radar blip;
When next to the door I saw a 2x's power,
I sprang from my - D'OH - the key's in the tower!

Away to the window I toz'ted a flash,
Tore open the curtains to let out the ash.
The moon on the breast of the freshly fried pfhor
Gave just enough light to see the open door,
When, what to my mechanical eye should appear,
But a Mother Of All Hunters, a switch and a gear!
With a little rear admiral, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment, his ass I would kick.

More rapid than fletchette fire my curses they came,
And I screamed, and shouted, and called them a name;
You're VOMET! you're STUPID! you're FODDER and WEAK!
To the top of the platform! To the top of the wall!
Now fry away, fry away, fry away all!"
As new clips are loaded before the next hellish fight,
When they meet with an enemy, it'll fill `em with light,
So up to the tower-top using the stairs I flew,
With the key - some ammo, and an enforcer too.

And then, in a twinkling, I shot towards the roof
The familiar sound - and enforcers last poof.
As I drew shotgun in hand, and was turning around,
Down from above - aliens had circled the ground.
They were dressed all in chrome, from it's head to it's foot,
What a wonderful place for several missile's to be put;

A bundle of weapons I had strapped to my back,
And I looked like a maniac poised for attack.
My eyes - how they sizzle! The smile is scary!
I don't smell like roses, but my aim is cherry!
The drool in my mouth has pooled up and I know,
One turn of my cheek and its all gonna go;
The stump of a tree over there on the ground,
And the smoke it encircled a battalion of sound;
They had chrome shiny faces, with a lil round belly,
But I've melted them all into something quite smelly.

He was old and wise, count the books on his shelf,
And I bowed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A squint of his eye and a twist of his hand,
Soon gave me to know with whom I did stand.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
I watched what he wrote; ...decided to lurk,
And pointing his finger in front of his nose,
Standing there - was a shadow, that glows;

I sprang to my feet, gave Leonardo a sigh,
And away I flew like a lemon meringue pie!

They heard me exclaim, ere I ran in sheer fright,



Short Title: GameNintendo

From: Sprite (
Subject: A Christmas Poem 
Date: 2003-12-16 14:21:15 PST 

It's amazing what you can find - I came across this whilst looking for
something for deKay's mad Xmas search....

Nintendo's Christmas Poem
- Originally featured in a Nintendo press release.

'Twas the month before Christmas and all through the nation
Gamers gave up on that brand new Playstation;
The orders were stacked up at retail with care,
But the merchants all knew Sony wouldn't be there.

The players were nestled in front of their screens,
The pie-eyed young tots and the discouraged teens,
This promised to be one distraught holiday,
Without something new interactive to play.

When down at the mall there arose such a clatter
I leaped from my chair to see what was the matter.
And what to my wondering eyes should appear
But a sleigh full of thrills -- filled with Nintendo gear!

With a little old driver with presents in tow,
I knew in a moment -- my man, Mario!
A bundle of games he had draped on his back,
"If you want to save Christmas, just open this sack!"

With a wink of his eye and a pull at his `stache,
He answered my fears of a holiday crash,
One yellow and chubby, then a mouse, then an elf,
Then a bear and a bird -- and I cheered to myself.

"If your dream is adventure, then we're up to the task --
Our best Zelda ever, called Majora's Mask.
The country's best seller beginning day one,
Competitors just can't compete with this fun!"

"With Disney we're setting a blistering pace
As Mickey's Speedway USA leads the race.
Or how 'bout the industry's first breakthrough brand?
Donkey Kong Country in the palm of your hand."

"And Banjo who soared with his partner Kazooie,
Take separate paths in a sequel called Tooie."
He had a kind face, and a look in his eyes
Then promised the ultimate retailer's prize.

"If Pokemon fun is your holiday choice,
Watch Pikachu leap in response to your voice.
And nothing before boasts performance this bold:
The hottest games ever -- Pokemon Silver and Gold!"

"Now Marrill, now Magmar, now Hoothoot and Staryu,
On Snubbull, on Snorlax, on Squirtle and Mewtwo!
To the top of the charts, to the top of the wall,
Now dash away, dash away, dash away all!"

Then he sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a cheer,
"The real transition will happen next year!"
And I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight,
"We said we'd save Christmas -- and Nintendo was right!"


Short Title: GamePacMan

Author:   xstrobe
Date: 1998/12/25

 'Twas the Night Before Pac-Man...
   - by Rawson Stovall
'Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house
Everyone was stirring, even the mouse.
The stockings were hung on the doorknobs with care,
In hopes that jolly old Santa soon would be there.

My sister was shuttled off to her bed,
So that visions of video games might dance in her head,
And my folks in their pj's and I in the same,
Had just settled down for a Pac-Man game.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I threw down my joystick to see what was the matter.
Away to the door I flew like a flash,
And fell hitting my head with a crash.

The moon shining on the new-fallen snow,
Gave an unreal glow to objects below,
When, what to me unbelieving eyes should appear,
But four tiny blobs and a yellow smear

Going "Waca, Waca, Waca" so lively and quick,
With that sound I knew it wasn't St. Nick.
Faster than Space Invaders they came.
And I whistled and shouted and called them by name:

"Hey Shadow! Hey Speedy! Hey Bashful and Pokey!"
Or is it Pinky? Inky? Clyde or Blinky?
To the top of the porch, to the top of my head
Through the door and inside the house they fled.

As quick as Imagic's Demons that fly,
When they meet with missiles and mount to the sky,
As fast as the bombs in Kaboom! they flew
Chasing Pac-Man and my folks, too.

Then, I heard inside the house
The cries of my folks and even the mouse.
As I drew in my head and was turning around,
My hero, Pac-Man, came with a bound.

He was dressed all in yellow, from his head to his toe,
Running after those monsters with a mighty blow.
Down the halls like narrow tunnels he ran so far
Turning corners till he found my vitamin jar,

Stopping just long enough to gobble a pill,
He then ambushed those monsters giving me a thrill!
From room to room he ran, sacking up in the drapes
Cherries, strawberries, peaches, apples, and grapes.

He was just going for the bells when I heard the sound
Of a million or more clangs all around.
Then, in a flash instead of yellow I saw red,
And I laughed, for before my eyes with a twist of his head

And a wink of his eye, I saw a right jolly old elf.
I knew I had nothing to dread in spite of myself.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work
And filled all the stockings with games like Berserk,

Frogger, Donkey Kong, Cosmic Ark, Smurf, and Grand Prix.
And then giving a not, out the door he did flee.
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew as fast as a missile.

But I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight,
"A Happy Video Christmas to All and to All a Good Night."

  ---excerpted from 'The Vid Kid's Book of Home Video Games' by Rawson Stovall

       Merry Christmas, everyone!           Benjamin Strobel


Short Title: GameProPilot

Subject:      The Night before Pro Pilot....
From:         "M. Pierre Toussaint" 
Date:         1997/12/19
Message-ID:   <67f89j$>
Newsgroups:   rec.aviation.simulators

'Twas the week before Christmas and all through the land
I searched for ProPilot by the Sierra name brand.
I bought it direct from Sierra with care,
I couldn't wait for the time that ProPilot would arrive here.

It arrived at my door with a start I did jump,
with eagerness I installed it,  but instead I saw junk.
The screens were all blurry and the flight models lacked,
I begged Sierra to take their junk back.

A patch is forthcoming they all did exclaim
It will fix all the bugs and the terrible planes.
Well make it all better, we promise, you'll see,
It'll be just like new, just wait, they decreed.

So the day of the patch came and went as I sighed,
I still have a program so bad it won't fly.
The bugs are still many and the graphics still bad,
ATC is still silly and the flight models bad.

As I reload Flight Sim, version 98 I bet,
Bill Gates is chuckling "It's as real as it gets!"
Now, my ProPilot's boxed and ready to ship,
I want my money back Sierra, don't give me no lip!

Sierra lied about their screen shots and it just wasn't fair,
So I write this poem to make others aware.
Don't wait patiently by your door for your box,
Pro Pilot is terrible, so bad, it just sucks.

Merry Christmas Everyone,

Fight to Fly, Fly to Fight, Fight to Win!!!


Short Title: GameQuake2

   Author:   Rectus Bardus
   Date: 1998/12/24
Have a Merry Christmas everybody!!
And my present to y'all

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, except for my mouse

The keyboard was placed on the table with care
With my monitor and computer; my printer over there.
I cranked up my Gamespy, selected a site
Ready to frag my friends throughout the night

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter
I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter
Away to the window I flew like a kite
Opened the glass, and threw on the light.

The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow
Gave a luster of mid-day to objects below
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer.
With a little old driver so lively and quick
I knew in a moment, it must be Saint Nick

More rapid than eagles his courses they came
As he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name.
Now,  Pop!  SuperTech! Oster! Roboray!
On, MadBomma, Anhedonic, Darth and Lee J.
To the top of porch, to the top of the wall
Now frag away, frag away, frag 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 housetop the courses they flew,
With a sleigh full of RAM, and St. Nicolas, too!

And, then in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head and was turning around
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He wasnt dressed at all, from his head to his shin
It was then that I knew he had Captain Nekkids skin.
A bundle of upgrades he had flung on his back
And he looked like some pervert with a large ugly sack
His eyes, they were hollow! His face was so hairy
He smelled like the dump, an laughed like Jim Carry

His thin little mouth was stretch across his beard
And with rail gun in hand, he looked mighty weird
He wore pointed shoes, just like an old elf
And I laughed when I saw him in spite of myself
With a turn of his head, and a blue stream in the sky
Soon gave me to know Id better duck or die.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work.
And replace my Voodoo with VGA,  the little jerk.
And taunting us all, middle finger up high
He gave a salute, and vanished to the sky

He sprang to his sled, to his team gave a whistle
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim,  the cheap little donk

Happy Christmas to All, and to All a good SPLONK!

Clement C. Moore
As paraphrased by m.parker smith

Rectus Bardus
(to reply via Email, awaken my sleeping address)
ICQ: 23009618


Short Title: GameSuperBubbleBlob

Submitted by: Ilze Oredson
January 2003


T'was the night before Christmas, 
and all through the 'Page,
KNPMASTER was stirring, 
in an angry fit of rage!

He waited and waited at his computer with care
in hopes that his Bubble Blob levels would soon be there.
He had no idea the staff were in their beds,
With visions of new stuff in their heads.
"Now 'Raichu!  Now Darklord!  Now Burns & RC!
On Sport!  On 'Rifle!  On TuOeDiSnI3!
To the click of your mouse!  To the fright of my squall!
Now send away!  Send away!  Send away all!"
KNP didn't care if he ate candy canes.
He didn't care if St. Nicholas came.
He really just wanted his levels to come.
He really just wanted Super Bubble Blob done.

He played his old levels, from off of his shelf.
And he got pissed when he saw them, in spite of himself.
If only he didn't trust others with this chore!
If only he made about thirty levels more!
As the clock struck ten on Christmas Eve,
KNPMASTER thought he would heave.
He'd promised his game that night, on the dot!
But now he said "Finished?  I think not..."
He could not do anything but stare at his work.
Then, suddenly, he closed MMF with a jerk.
"To HELL with this!  I quit, I suppose..."
And sulking and moping, up the stairs he rose.
Unfortunately for the public I say,
Super Bubble Blob will come soon, another day.
And although I wish no one had to endure this plight,
I still wish you all a Merry Christmas, and bid you all Good Night!
See ya after the holiday folks, and I hope you all get some cool stuff and 
have a wonderful time with your families and friends.  If you're still 
PO'ed about the game delay, get a life. Later


Short Title: GameThief

Subject: Now this is poetry! (Thief theme) 
Date: 01/02/2000 
Author: Oknow12345  

 'Twas the Night Before Christmas.... 
  Twas the night before Christmas
  In Baffords great house
  Not a servant was stirring
  Not Kevel the Mouse

  When what through the wandering 
  night doth appear
  but Garrett the Thief
  and his small bag of gear.

  Around to the back
  down the wellhouse he dropped
  and swam with his sack
  until by the basement he stopped.

  And strolled through the basement 
  like some silent haunt
  dispatched the old guards 
  with a blackjack he brought. 
  Making his silent way
  like the falling of leaves
  no guard ever heard 
  the great king of thieves.

  Now jewelry,now fine wine
  and gold plates he stashed,
  and trundled them up 
  with a tie of a sash,

  Until by the sceptre
  Lord Baffords great prize
  he stood by the guard
  who cried out with surprise

  "Thief here. Come quick.
  An intruder doth come."
  But the blackjack came down
  swift and sure with a whack
  and the guard crumpled down
  like an old worn out sack.

  Come sceptre,come treasure
  Garretts prize was in hand
  while Lord Bafford lay silent 
  no clue that his band

  of trusty old guards
  lay like cards on the floor
  not knowing the name 
  of the Thief at the door

  Now Garrett with trinkets 
  cross the floor made his flight
  The orphanage cross town
  will surely delight

  in the treasures Ive taken
  from Lord Baffords wee sight
  Merry Christmas Lord Bafford,
  and to all a good night!!!! 
  - Mark Leeper 
  Merry Christmas, taffers, and God bless. - Dan


Matthew Monroe in Richland, WA

Last Modified January 7, 2007