The Cellar - Night Before Christmas: Cellar Style

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the cellar
Not a poster was stirring, not even a troller;
The stalkings were left by the homebase with care,
In hopes that Some Liberals soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
Except those with fairies who danced in their heads;
And wolfie in her 'kerchief, and bruce in his cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
When out on the board there arose such a clatter,
They sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the windows they flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters to watch windows crash.
Blue Screen on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Blamed eighty-five percent on objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature meme, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little recipe, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than grammar-nazis his cursers came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them bad names;
"Now, Draxie! now, Dagney! now, Pico and Vana!
On, Clodfob! on Cloudie! on, Dana and Buster!
To the top of the posts! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
As dry humor before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with a treadmill, they mount to the sky,
So up to the menu-bar the cursors they flew,
With the sleigh full of memes, and undertoad too.
And then, in a twinkling, we saw on the board
The prancing and pawing of attention whores.
As I threw up a little in my mouth, and turned around,
Down the chimney Whale Penis came with a bound.
It was dressed all in fur, from its head to its foot,
And its clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of spam it had flung on its sack,
And it looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
Its eye -- how it twinkled! its dimples how merry!
Cheeks were like roses, who wants to lose their cherry?
A troll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of the pubes was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the non-smoking posse chipped in for a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That cock! We encased his stapler in jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right diet-dodger,
And I laughed when I saw him, dirty old codger;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his words,
Soon gave me to know he was an old perv;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; with only one jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his treehouse, to his team gave a whistle,
And down they all flew like a furious missile.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"I quit the Cellar, to all a good-night."