Author's Note: Suffice to say, I don't own either Total Drama Island or How the Grinch Stole Christmas. May Dr. Seuss and Teletoon have mercy on my soul. Also, the text is a revision of the exact text for the most part. So… those who hate the original, go away.
How the Chef Stole Christmas
All campers on TDI like Christmas a lot
But the Chef, who lived by the cabins, did not!
The Chef hated Christmas! The whole Christmas season!
There's no need to ask why. Everyone knows the reason.
It's not that his hat wasn't placed on quite right
And it's not that his apron was getting too tight.
All the campers and interns knew this most of all;
The Chef's Christmas bonus was two times too small!
So, since this is the reason, with the ends and the means
It makes sense that the Chef just hated those teens.
Staring down from the Thousand-Foot Cliff with a glare
At the cabins, now fancy with holiday flair.
For he knew every intern and camper beneath
Had expensive trees, decorations and wreaths.
"And they're hanging their stockings, the pathetic scum!"
This the Chef yelled with a quick movement of the thumb.
He paced to and fro, with a rather large frown.
"I must capture Christmas, I must take it down!"
For tomorrow, as he cleaned the mess hall with a rag,
He knew that the campers would soon start to brag.
"My gift is awesome!" "My gift is the bomb!"
"My gift is perfect?" "Oh yeah? Well, your mom!"
And they'd brag! And they'd brag! Oh, they'd brag, brag, brag, brag!
That's what truly annoyed him! They'd BRAG, BRAG, BRAG, BRAG!
Then the campers and interns would sit down to a feast.
And they'd feast! And they'd feast! And they'd FEAST, FEAST, FEAST, FEAST!
They'd have fancy puddings, and tasty leg of sheep
Which the Chef couldn't make since he'd be fast asleep!
And then they'd do something he liked least of all
Every intern and camper, the tall and the small…
Would stand close together, and not before long
They'd start belting that stupid TDI theme song!
And they'd sing! And they'd sing!
And they'd SING, SING, SING, SING!
And the more the Chef thought of that stupid theme song
He knew he'd stop Christmas, it wouldn't be wrong!
"For fifty-three years, they sing around fire…
I have to kill Christmas, or else I'll retire!"
Then he got an idea… an awful idea!
THE CHEF GOT A WONDERFUL, AWFUL IDEA!
"I know just what to do!" The Chef laughed in his throat,
And he made a quick Santa Claus hat and a coat.
The Chef said creepily, "This is like a war trick!
With this coat and this hat, I'll look just like Saint Nick."
"All I need is a reindeer," the Chef said with a frown,
Since reindeer in Canada aren't to be found.
So the Chef then found DJ, and then called "Come here!"
And DJ obeyed since Chef gave him fear.
So he got some red thread, and a dirt-riddled twig
Which fit DJ nicely, just like a wig!
(Author's Note: Well, that is if a wig was just wood.
The line had to rhyme, so I did what I could!)
THEN he got some old bags, loading them on his sleigh.
And hitched to the front the frightened DJ.
The Chef pulled out a whip, and cracked it in the air
So to the main cabins they went with a scare.
It was night by the time that the cabins were found
And the snow blew around the empty campground
So the Chef was the only one making a sound.
"Here's the first stop on my no-Christmas list!"
This the Chef said with his hand as a fist.
So he entered the door, since no chimney was seen
And here the Chef started his mission of mean.
(Author's Note Number Two: Well, how 'bout this dish?
Looks like I've received a late Christmas wish!
You know Janey1097 the writer?
Her creative skills are really on fire!
Figuratively, of course. I've only this proof:
She's gone and created this lovely song spoof!)
You're a mean one, Mr. Chef
You're quite a nasty crook
Your attitude's as rotten
As the nasty stuff you cook, Mr. Chef
You're a depraved raccoon with an unkempt look!
You're a nightmare, Mr. Chef
You're losing all your hair,
You've got a beaver's overbite,
You've got an empty stare, Mr. Chef!
I wouldn't go near you…even to kick you in the derrière!
You're pretty creepy, Mr. Chef
Your smile scares me, all these times
You're freakier than fanfiction
You're sourer than limes, Mr. Chef
Your disposition is as bad as these rhymes!
You disgust me, Mr. Chef
You kick puppies on your lawn
You're so evil that these folks
Must read this go on and on, Mr. Chef
I'm sorry to say, those never-ending war-stories make everyone yawn…
You're a dark, mangy monster, arriving from somewhere in Wawanakwa's black lagoon, covered in slime, grime, and given too much time on his hands!
(Well how about that? A treat like no other.
Now back to the story written by another.)
The Chef made it in, and was quiet and slow
And made for the stockings, which were first to go.
And so the Chef sneaked, with presents in hand;
Make-up and jewelry! Clothing! Rock Band!
Then went the other gifts; a large amount
Since the adoring fans sent too many to count.
The Chef took the gifts, and put them in sacks
And tossed them to DJ, who sorted the stacks.
So to the food court the Chef went feeling rude
And in a new bag put in holiday food!
He emptied the feast, every crumb, in a flash
Why, the Chef helped himself to a can of "free" hash!
So the food and the gifts were found on the Chef's spree.
The only thing missing was the evergreen tree!
But as the Chef approached it, he was caught by surprise
Since he soon caught a glance of a teenager's eyes!
The camper was Lindsay, who always asked "Who?"
(some say negative numbers make up her IQ).
"Are you Tyler?" the girl asked quite innocently,
"If so, why are you heading for the tree?"
Now the Chef was trained to battle, not to lie
But his scheme had to work, so he gave it a try.
"I think," the Chef said, "that Tyler's my brother.
We always have people think we're each other!
"My name's Santa Claus, I'm the spirit of joy!
And if you go to bed, then I'll give you a toy.
"As for now, my friend, try to get some sleep.
I'll give you some water, then you count some sheep."
And so his fib worked, since it did have no flaws
Though Lindsay did not know the name "Santa Claus."
But she went off to bed with a cup of bad water
Stolen from a stream where a bear was once slaughtered.
And the Chef waved her off, with a grin of fake glee
And then in a bag somehow put in the tree!
So the holiday works were now put in those bags
Some put on the sleigh, others DJ dragged.
But it works, if to not hear those dumb campers nag.
But the Chef was no pig, and left them a meal
Of a stew that he made which gave a large squeal.
And so every cabin, all around the camp
Was emptied by the Chef, who now had a cramp.
Dawn would soon break the Ontario sky
But the Chef would not quit, that was his reply!
All bags were now full, so back up the hill
Went DJ, the sleigh, the Chef swallowing pills!
One thousand feet up! Near the Thousand-Foot Cliff
The Chef would empty the presents, the stiff!
"Christmas is now over! The war has been won!
The Chef is the victor, the battle is done!
"The campers and interns, and that host named Chris
Will have no Christmas, and it won't be missed!
There will be no singing, since they'll be so pissed!
"So silence I'll hear!" The Chef claimed with cheer
And cupped a large hand over his right ear.
And yet he heard a sound coming up from the snow
It started quietly and started to grow…
He stared down from his cliff, and then smacked his head
The sound that came up just filled him with dread!
For Chris and Harold, Owen and Beth
Duncan, Ezekiel, and all the rest…
Were led in a choir by an intern named Amos
And they were all singing "I Wanna Be Famous!"
Every camper and intern, the tall and the small,
Were singing with no food or presents at all!
The Chef had their Christmas, but somehow it came!
And they just kept on singing the song all the same!
And the Chef, with his boots dug deep in the snow
Grabbed hold of DJ and asked "How is this so?
"I've taken their ribbons! I've taken their tags!
I've taken their packages, boxes, and bags!"
So he thought 'til the song had finally ceased
And the Chef gave a sigh, for he was at peace.
"I still have the joy, so I'll throw down this stuff.
I just can't fight Christmas, and I've had enough!"
And what happened next? On the island, they say
Chris had the Chef's bonus taken away.
And the Chef was still angered, but he wouldn't be beat
Since he still had the food as his own Christmas treat.
So the Christmas dinner gave the campers grief,
Since he…
HE HIMSELF!
The Chef cooked the roast beef!
Author's Note: I will never rhyme again. Ever. In my existence. If I do, kindly slap me in the face.
This was written as a Christmas story, but it took a lot of time to do the whole thing, so now it's just a story. Unless, of course, you accept gifts three days late?
I thank you for reading, and especially thank Janey1097 for the song parody. She's first on the Christmas card list, that's for sure!