‘Twas the Nite Beefore Krissmiss
A big Krissmiss Eve hello to all owr frends in the blogosfeer. Me and my big bruther Mao, my best frend and rasslin’ buddy Rocky, and the psyko stray cat Trip are all gatherd rownd owr big fireplace (note to self: put owt the fire beefore Sandy Claws comes!).
Tonite we are gatherd to wish yoo all a vary Merry Krissmiss, and I will do that by telling a speshul Krissmiss poem that I rited all by myself mostly. It’s called, “‘Twas the Nite Beefore Krissmiss.”
MAO: “Oh, bruther.”
ROCKY: Let the kid talk. This is nice. The fire is vary warm and toasty and yoo wood not beeleeve how wild thoze Krissmiss lites looks after a few hits of nip!!! All yoo spicy vixins, come over and kerl up with ole’ Rockyboy!!!! We’ve got lots of kozy kitty blankits, vary fleesy and warm, and sum nip cookies, and warm milk spikt with Rocky’s speshul blend!
TRIP: [Talking a hundred miles an hour] I git yer overflow!!!! I’ve got giant wisker humps and enormus paws! Hoo wunts to sit by me??? [Lunges at the plate of cookies and scatters them on the floor.] Whoops! My Bad! Hey, Merry Krissmiss evrybuddy I’m so glad to have a nice warm home and that I don’t hafta live in the forist anymore Hey, hoo wunts to help me nok down the Krissmiss tree??? Huh? anybuddy? Wo Rocky did yoo invite ALL yer spicy vixins?
MAO: “Oh, bruther.”
SKEEZIX: C’mon yoo guys! It’s time for my Krissmiss poem! Greet owr gests and help git evrywun settled in! We’ve gotta git done and git into bed beefore Sandy Claws comes!
MAO: Yeah, rite. Whutever. Okay, evrybuddy. How abowt Meezers and cool cats over by me. Nawty gerls over with Rocky. Psyko kitties, take yer life in yer hands and sit by Trip. There. Are we dun? Can I nap now?
SKEEZIX: Mao, be nice. It’s Krissmiss. Okay is evrywun reddy and cumfy??? [Clears his throat.] Heer we go!
‘Twas the nite beefore Krissmiss, and all thru the blogs
Not a creechur was posting, not even the dawgs.
The stockings were hung so they lookt reely nice,
Stuffed with catnip and toys and Temptayshuns and mice.
Mao and Rocky and Trip were asleep in thare beds,
While vizhuns of Fancy Feest danced in thare heds.
I was snuggled up warm in my pink satin robe,
Working hard at removing some poop frum my toe.
When out on the lawn thare arose such a rakkit,
I got up to investigate and maybe attak it.
I peeked thru the shutters and glanced at the lawn
And looked up the street to whut looked like the dawn:
Mr Tinydik’s howse was ablaze in wite lite
So the street looked like daytime, even tho it was nite.
When then whut to my wundering eyes shood apeer,
But a fat geezer guy and 8 vishus ranedeer!
The geezer was spry – he was lively and qwik,
So I thot then that Rocky must’ve slipt me sum ‘nip.
My throte closed with terror as deer filld the sky
He yelled owt thare names as they eech past me by:
“Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!
We must find the home of that Skeezix the Cat!
He’s got big frootbat ears, and he’s not vary fat!
His frunt porch still reeks of that VDR stuff
So plug up yer nozes – this cood git kinda ruff!”
I felt a wet warmness go down my wite thigh
I had just wet my pants watching deer in the sky.
Shood I wake my frends Rocky and Maobert and Trip?
No — they’d just spent the nite doin’ Rocky’s skank nip
I was shur they’d be useless aginst all theeze deer
So I grabbed sum Repelunt, and swallowed my feer!
I snuk owt the door withowt making a sownd,
And shiverd a bit as my paws hit the grownd.
I looked at the top of the Tinydiks’ home
And saw 8 vishus deer with that fat geezer gnome.
The deers were a-snorting and pawing so lowd,
That thare breth roze in puffs to a big deer-breth clowd.
I coodn’t beeleeve whut I saw on that roof,
When just then a deer lookt at me, pointing his hoof!
I froze in my traks, and I shivered with frite
Cuz I knew that my last day on erth was tonite!
The deer sed, “That’s Skeezix! The innernet cat!
Yoo can see he’s a runt with a tail like a rat!”
I held the Repelunt, and tride to think fast
Knowing evry werd spoken cood well be my last.
I sed, “Yes, I’m Skeezix, of innernet fame!
And if yoo don’t leeve, yoo’ll be sorry yoo came!”
The deers started laffing; the geezer stept up,
And kindly, he sed to me, “Skeezy, wassup?”
I was kot off my gard by his his kool gangsta patter,
As he jumped frum the roof and sed, “Skeez, whut’s the matter?
I’m yer frend, Sandy Claws, and I bring yoo good cheer
Not to menshun sum gifts, cuz yoo’ve bin good all yeer!”
I sed, “Prezints for ME? Yoo have got to be kidding,
Yoo’ve got 8 vishus deer hoo are doing yer bidding!”
He sed, “My deer arn’t vishus. Thare speshully bred
To fly like the wind far above yer wite hed.
And they never eet cats, neether yung ones nor geezers
Cuz thare vegans – they won’t even eet joosy meezers.”
I was stunned. Cood I trust him? Or was this a scam
To lure me, then eet me with butter and jam???
The deer all turned toward me, the moment was tense
I realized I didn’t have much of a defense —
Thare wasn’t repelunt enuf for 8 deers,
Cood I dare to beeleeve whut I’d herd with my ears?
My intesstins were churning, my voicebox was myoot,
When Prancer sed, “Wow, that pink robe is reel kyoot!
Do yoo mind if I ask ware it was that yoo got it?
I’d like to git one of my own ware yoo bot it.”
Frum then on I forgot that the deers were a thret
As we talked abowt satin and silk and georgette.
Just then Sandy swooped down and grabbed me in his kote
He sed, “Skeezix, yer freezing, yoo’ll git a sore throte!
Let’s go in yer howse and I’ll warm yoo sum creem,
Tuk yoo into yer bed: yoo’ll think this was a dreem!”
I’ll admit I was kold, so I crawled in his pockit,
Wile the deer pulled the slay to the sky like a rokkit.
He fixt me sum creem and he tukt me in bed,
And he lade a big kiss on the top of my hed.
He was dresst all in fur and his owtfit was kyoot,
But his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of cat toys he’d flung on his bak,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pak.
He dumpt lots of gifts underneeth owr big tree
Lots of catnip for Rocky, and owtfits for me.
Mao got his Greenies, and Trip got sum toys
It was qwite a big hawl for the 4 of us boys.
In the morning I tride to explane whut I’d seen,
But no one beleeved that it wuzn’t a dreem.
But now I’m aware that 8 mutant ranedeer
Hoo were bred to be vegans are not to be feerd.
They reely won’t eet me – in fakt, thare my frends
And that’s how this Krissmisstime poem now ends.
Just like Santa called owt as they flew owt of site,
“Merry Krissmiss to all, and to all a good nite.”