The Night Before Giftsmas
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The Night Before Giftsmas by: Abe VenrickAbe Venrick

Abe Venrick's Author Page

A Jolly Little Tale

The Night Before Giftsmas

'Twas the night before Giftsmas, when all through the backrooms
Not an entity was stirring, not even a Reviooks;
A wanderer was wandering through 389 with care,
In hopes that The Game Master wouldn’t find him in there;
Though she was clever, tricksy and smart;
No doubt the poor bastard was in for a start;
Grinning that smile hundreds have seen before,
Just behind her mask that she so devilishly wore,
When out on the doorway he rose with a clatter,
The Game Master rose to see what was the matter.
Away to the sounds she flew like a flash,
Tore open the portal and threw up the sash.
The wanderer was silent, all hidden in below,
While the Game Master prepared to give a good show,
When what to her wondering eyes did appear,
But a glimpse of her victim frozen in fear,
With a little old jaunt so lively and quick,
She giggled and snickered her usual shtick.
More rapid than eagles his legs were up like a flame,
And he whistled, and shouted, and shouted in shame:
"Oh, shit! oh, fuck! Oh gods if you’re there!
Oh, please! Oh, lord! Save me from this nightmare!
Bring me home, bring me hope! Anything but fear!
Go away! Get away! Get me the fuck away from here!"
As walls that surrounded the victim no doubt,
When she caught up to him, all he could do was shout;
So delighted with chaos the Game Master did grin
With the night just beginning, no doubt full of sin—
And then, in an instance, She heard from behind,
A strange noise, truly one of a kind.
As she drew in her head, and was turning around,
Down the hallway a fat man came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of stuff he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a pedler just opening his pack.
His eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly
That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And he laughed when she saw him, in spite of themself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave her to know she had something to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
He grabbed the wanderer’s scruff; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, he puffed up and rose;
He sprang to feet, to the Game Master gave a whistle,
And away they both went like the sound of a pistol.
But She heard him exclaim, ere he disappeared out of sight—
“Merry Giftsmas to all, and to all a good life!”

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