Twas the night before Christmas

“‘Twas The Night Before Christmas”


‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, only Salty Dog was sleeping, not so the louse. Her stockings were flung by the bed with no care, in anticipation of Pecker soon to be there.

The neighbors were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of sugarplums danced in their heads. And good people in town, and I at my site, had just settled our brains for a long winter night.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, Scarlett sprang from her bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window she flew like a flash, tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon, on the breast of the new-fallen snow, gave a luster of midday to objects below, when, what to her cheating eyes should appear, but a miniature uber and eight tiny men (my dear), with a little old driver so lively and quick, she knew in a moment it must be St. Dick!
More rapid than eagles his cheaters they came, and he whistled and shouted but Scarlett called them by name:

“Now, Pecker! Now, Arnie! Now, Kirk and whoever! On, roommate! On, wedding guy! On,

Bud and no name! In the backseat, against the wall, now, ravage me! Ravage me! Ravage

me all!”

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, when they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky, so up to the driveway the cheaters they flew, with the uber full of sex toys, and St. Dickolas too. And then, in a twinkling, she heard on the ground the prancing and pawing of each little sex hound. As she drew in her head, and was turning around, up the stairs St. Dickolas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur from his head to his foot, and his clothes were all tarnished with blood and goop; a bundle of sex toys he had flung on his back, and he looked like a pervert just opening his crack. 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 bottle in his hand was empty long ago.


The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, and the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath. He had a broad face and a little round belly that shook when he laughed like a bowl full of KY jelly. He was chubby and plump, a right sick little elf, and she screamed when she saw him, in spite of herself.


A wink of his eye and a twist of his head soon gave her to know she had everything to dread. He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, and defiled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk. Laying his finger aside of his nose, and giving a nod, down the stairs he go'ed. He sprang to his uber, to his team gave a whistle, and away they all flew like the down of a thistle. But she heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight…


“You had a good thing, but Satan awaits you this night!”