(edited for prose 12-24-02)
T'was the night before Christmas, when all through the base,
Not a NIKI was stirrin', no La7 showed his face;
The Ostwinds were lined by the runway with care,
In hopes that Runstangs or Dweebfires soon would be there;
THE ASSASSINS were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of easy kills danced in their heads;
And HBlair in his goggles, and I in my Turban wrap,
Had just set our butts down for a 180 proof nightcap;
When out on the flightline there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the barstool to see what t'hell was the matter;
Away from the hanger I flew like a flash,
Tore open the doors, and dodged a pile of trash;
I saw the moon on the breast of the Rolling Terrains™
as it gave the lustre of midday to objects like planes;
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a Fat Drunk Bastard, and eight flabby bish queer;
With a obese and homely driver, so pallid and sick,
I knew in a moment it must be that Fatty salamander;
More rapid than beagles his BASTARDS they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now Skernsk! Now Animal! Now Mathman and Mason!
On Sling! On SOB! On Creamo and Hangtime!
To the top of the pizza! To the top of SHINERBOCK Hall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
Like dry heaves just before the wild vomit does fly,
when it meets with the toilet, to splash back your eye,
so up to the beerhall roof the Bastards they flew,
With a sleigh full of sextoys, and that Fatty bee-atch too;
Then with a wild squawk, I heard on my radio set
To hurry be airborne or no beer would I get;
I climbed in my plane, and started turnin' 'er round,
I then looked out to see Fatty the Fat Bastard Clown;
He was dressed all in silk, a cheap pimp's suit,
his shoes were all glittery with rhinestones to boot;
A bundle of porn mags he had flung on his back,
And pants slipped half down to reveal lotsa bellybutton crack;
His eyes -- how shallow! his bulbous nose -- how scary!
His cheeks were pockmarked, his back was real hairy!
His droll little mouth was drawn up in a pucker,
As I asked myself "How do I git rid of this F*cker?"
The stump of a buffalo-wing he held tight in his teeth,
And the smell of cheap booze encircled his head like a wreath;
A three chinned face couldn't offset his fat belly,
That shook when he belched, his breath was real smelly!
He was shabby and scabbie, a right nasty ol queer,
still I stood my ground when I saw him, in spite of my fear;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
soon gave me to know he'd be a homosexual to dread;
Then he spoke not a word, but went straight to the sink,
whipped out his JOHNSON, and flashed me some pink;
And sticking a finger two knuckle deep in his nose,
he pulled out a booger, then wiped it off on his clothes!
He then limped to the icebox, opened it's door with a leer,
And that Fat Drunk Bastard reached in and stoled my LAST beer!
Then out to his plane that thievin' bastard did stroll,
shuffling and swaying like a man-lovin' troll;
Once strapped in an ready, to his bish hoard he did whistle,
And away they all flew, the bunch of flabby pig gristle;
Then I heard him break greasy wind, ere they dove outta sight,
as I fired my cannons blindly after them into the night!
MERRY CHRISTMAS ACES HIGH!
