TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS
by Clement Clarke Moore (and scarydorable)
'Twas the night before Christmas, and in that sordid flat,
One sole person was stirring, the beer'd seen to that;
The stockings were flung o'er the brass bedpost rails,
To keep to a minimum his captive's flails;
Cross the bed there were belts, cream, lube, handcuffs, and more,
And a big blacksnake whip lay alone on the floor;
With a bottle of lager clutched tight in his fist,
Our dear Simon Gallup grinned broad with a twist,
When out on the street there arose such a clatter,
He sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window he flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The light from the snow which had fallen for weeks
Reminded him fondly of Robert’s round cheeks,
When, what to his heady brown eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer.
With a little fat driver so lively and quick -
Simon stared in amazement “Now Robert’s St. Nick?!”
Much quicker than changing their line-ups he drew,
And to Simon, each reindeer was someone he knew;
"Now Porl, now Michael, now Maddy and Lol!
On Boris, on Roger, on Perry & all!
To the top of the charts! To the top of his flat!
It’s Christmas you know, and I want some of that!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the roof-top the plump singer flew,
With his bright red smeared lips and his Santa’s sleigh too.
And then, in a twinkling, Simon heard up above
The foul mouth quite common of his dear big love.
He shook out his hair and was turning around,
When through the door came eager Smith with a bound.
He was dressed all in black from his head to his foot,
And he’d done up his face with what looked like soot;
It wasn’t quite kohl, perhaps he’d run out,
Simon was too amazed to ask much about.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! His cleft-chin how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His lipstick-y mouth was a pout with a sigh,
And the blue in his eyes looked just like the sky;
The stump of a fag he held tight in his teeth
Simon noticed the whites of these just underneath;
He had a round face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump and quite loosing his shape,
Simon couldn’t help but let a chuckle escape;
A roll of his eye and a twist of his head,
Simon guessed what he wanted and lay down in bed;
Smith spoke not a word but went straight to his work,
Strapped Simon in and then turned with a jerk,
Then laying his hand to the side of his zip,
He pulled it down fast and proceeded to strip;
Smith sprang on the bed, put his wrists in a clasp,
Simon Gallup had barely a moment to gasp.
But he had a quick second to turn out the light
"Happy Christmas my love, you'll remember tonight..."