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'Twas The Nigh Before Q'mas, (with apologies to C.C. Moore or whoever wrote the original.)
brian334
Member Posts: 2,214 Arc User
in Ten Forward
'Twas the Night Before Q'mas, and all 'round the server,
Tzenkethi were killing my ships with a fervor.
The children were hanging around the Earth Spacedocks,
With visions of TFOs they could play on their X-box.
While I with dilithium and mom with her credit card,
Were opening lockboxes and praying real hard.
When on the chat channel there arose such a chatter,
I unlocked Ignore to see what was the matter.
The players, so polite in what they were saying,
gave the impression they knew that a Dev was playing.
When suddenly out of a great wormhole pops,
A T6 VoQuv and eight tiny Bops!
With a fat Kingon captain so tricked out for war,
That I knew in a moment that it must be Molor.
Faster than escorts his raiders they came,
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name!
On B'rel and B'rotlh, on Norgh and Qaw'Dun,
On Ning'tao, Ki'Tang, Ch'Tang and Qul'Dun!
From the top of Earth Spacedock to the old Captain's Table,
Kill Federation Scum wherever you're able!
Like vacationers before the wild hurricane flee from the beaches,
Everyone who could warped out before the fist warp core breaches.
Up to Earth Spacedock the T6 VoQuv chased me,
So I transported inside where I thought I'd find safety.
As I materialized in the particle stream.
I saw to one side a red Klingon beam!
He was dressed all in leather from his head to his foot,
Except where some spikes were randomly put.
With a wicked huge bat'leth slung on his back,
And hundreds of grenades that he kept in a sack.
His eyes were so red he must have drunk too much blood wine,
His ridges were jagged, his hair tangled like kudzu vine.
His teeth were so crooked I wondered how he could chew,
And the beard on his chin was a thin Fu Manchu.
He was flabby and fat, and he looked rather sickly,
I decided to get the Hell out of there quickly.
He pulled out a chain gun, plasma-disruptor hybrid,
And I paused to wonder where he had kept that hid.
He laughed maniacally as he set to his work,
Killing everyone in sight, that fat Klingon jerk.
When the station was burning and all vendors were dead,
He found Admiral Quinn and slapped him upside his head.
Then placing a spatial charge next to the bulkhead,
He blew a great hole and left everyone for dead.
But I heard him troll us all as he warped out of sight,
Merry Q'mas to all who must respawn tonight!
Tzenkethi were killing my ships with a fervor.
The children were hanging around the Earth Spacedocks,
With visions of TFOs they could play on their X-box.
While I with dilithium and mom with her credit card,
Were opening lockboxes and praying real hard.
When on the chat channel there arose such a chatter,
I unlocked Ignore to see what was the matter.
The players, so polite in what they were saying,
gave the impression they knew that a Dev was playing.
When suddenly out of a great wormhole pops,
A T6 VoQuv and eight tiny Bops!
With a fat Kingon captain so tricked out for war,
That I knew in a moment that it must be Molor.
Faster than escorts his raiders they came,
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name!
On B'rel and B'rotlh, on Norgh and Qaw'Dun,
On Ning'tao, Ki'Tang, Ch'Tang and Qul'Dun!
From the top of Earth Spacedock to the old Captain's Table,
Kill Federation Scum wherever you're able!
Like vacationers before the wild hurricane flee from the beaches,
Everyone who could warped out before the fist warp core breaches.
Up to Earth Spacedock the T6 VoQuv chased me,
So I transported inside where I thought I'd find safety.
As I materialized in the particle stream.
I saw to one side a red Klingon beam!
He was dressed all in leather from his head to his foot,
Except where some spikes were randomly put.
With a wicked huge bat'leth slung on his back,
And hundreds of grenades that he kept in a sack.
His eyes were so red he must have drunk too much blood wine,
His ridges were jagged, his hair tangled like kudzu vine.
His teeth were so crooked I wondered how he could chew,
And the beard on his chin was a thin Fu Manchu.
He was flabby and fat, and he looked rather sickly,
I decided to get the Hell out of there quickly.
He pulled out a chain gun, plasma-disruptor hybrid,
And I paused to wonder where he had kept that hid.
He laughed maniacally as he set to his work,
Killing everyone in sight, that fat Klingon jerk.
When the station was burning and all vendors were dead,
He found Admiral Quinn and slapped him upside his head.
Then placing a spatial charge next to the bulkhead,
He blew a great hole and left everyone for dead.
But I heard him troll us all as he warped out of sight,
Merry Q'mas to all who must respawn tonight!
5
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