Twas the night before Q-mas when all through the ship,
nothing on sensors, not even a blip.
The tribbles were hung by the warp core with care,
in the hopes that Saint Q soon would be there.
The red shirts were nestled all snug in their beds,
while visions of surviving danced in their heads.
When out on the hull arose such a clatter
I said, "Main viewer," to see whats a matter.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
but a miniature cube, and eight tiny sphere.
With a flash of plasma did they start to pew,
I said under my breath, "Thanks a lot Q."
"Now phasers, and photons, and cannons," I call,
"Now fire them, fire them, fire them all!"
So up to the borg with coursers they flew,
When next to me sat a satisfied Q.
And then with a shaking I heard on the ship,
The borg had a tractor and us in its grip.
As I drew in my head and was turning around,
In beamed snow borg with narry a sound.
Their eyes how they twinkled with lasers of red,
Expecting a beam we got snowballed instead.
They spoke not a word but went straight to their work,
Snowballing my crew, "Man Q is a jerk!"
He sprang from my chair to the borg gave a snap,
Away they all went with a flash and a clap.
I heard him exclaim as he flashed out of sight
"Merry Q-mas to all and to all a good fight!"
Post edited by rookpiece on
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Comments
*claps*
Has all the spirit in it of a 7th grader's English homework.
Next time refine the lyrics you come up with while sitting on the can.