Twas the night before Christmas

[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.