Red_Chaos

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all thro' Reborn Not a pokemon was stirring, not even a breloombot; The message boxes were hung by the forum with care, In hopes that St. Dan's soon would be there; The posters were nestled all snug in their beds, While visions of lum berries danced in their heads And Amethyst in her favorite jacket, and I in my card's cap, Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap—‌ When out on the web there arose such a clatter, I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter. Away to the screen I flew like a Deoxy, Tore open the light screens, and threw up the focus sash. When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny sawsbucks, With a little old driver, so lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be St. Dan. More rapid than braviary his coursers they came, And he whistled, and shouted, and call'd them by name: "Now! Ikaru, now! Jericho, now! Jan and Rose, "On! Med, on! Simon, on! Tacos and Zumi; "To the top of the sever! To the top of the forums! "Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!" With the sleigh full of toys—‌and St. Dan too: And then in a twinkling, I heard on the roof Down the wed St. Dan came with a bound: He was dress'd all in Zangoose fur, from his head to his foot, And his clothes were all tarnish'd with Litten ashes and soot; A bundle of toys was flung on his back, And he look'd like a Delibird just opening his pack: His eyes—‌how they twinkled! His dimples: how merry, His cheeks were like roselias, his nose like a cherrim; His droll little mouth was drawn up like a chimecho, And the beard of his chin was as white as the Absol; The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, And the smoke it encircled his head like a Torkoal. He had a broad face, and a little round belly That shook when he laugh'd, like a Snorlax filled with berries: He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old Mr. Mime, And I laugh'd when I saw him in spite of myself; A wink of his eye and a twist of his head Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread. He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, And fill'd all the message boxes; then turn'd with a jerk, And laying his finger aside of his nose And giving a nod, up the forums he rose. He sprung to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, And away they all flew, like the down of a thistle: But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight—‌ Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night.