Every Who down in Who-ville liked Christmas a lot,
But Murdoc Niccals who lived on the mountain did not!
He lived quite a life in the big mansion Kong
Smoking, fapping, drinking, and wearing a thong.
Most Whos didn't think his head was quite level.
There were rumors that he'd sold his soul to the devil.
His only company was a vocal mutt with blue hair
2D, the loyal, put-upon terrier.
Murdoc hated Christmas! The whole Christian season
If you asked, he'd be glad to tell you the reason
"I can't stand their laughter, the girls and the boys
All smiling and happy and opening their toys.
Joy makes me angry, love makes me sick!"
He said as he beat 2D with a stick.
"And the music, the music! The chimes and the bells,
Makes me want to drag their poor souls down to hell.
They have no taste. They have no class.
I could make better music with a blast from my arse.
They make me want to reach for my rum.
Oh, how I long to spoil their fun."
"Actually," said 2D, "I quite like this time of year."
And he put on a Kris Kringle hat with good cheer.
"Give me that!" said Murdoc, and he snatched it away.
"I've got a clever plan to make them all pay.
I'll pretend I'm Santa, with a coat and a sleigh,
I'll steal all their stuff, and ruin Christmas day."
"All I need is a reindeer." Murdoc looked around.
But he'd eaten them all, there were none to be found.
Did that stop the Satanist? No! The man simply said,
"If I can't find a reindeer, I'll make one instead!"
So he advanced upon 2D, and took some red thread
And he tied a big "horn" on top of his head.
Then he loaded up some bags, and some bottles of wine,
Hitched up poor 2D and began the decline.
When they reached the town, all the windows were dark.
The Whos were all sleeping, such a walk in the park.
He urinated upon the wreathed trees as a lark.
Then he chose a target, a twee little house.
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
He tried the chimney, but since he was fat,
Not the slightest bit svelte, there was no chance of that.
So he pushed in 2D, who fell to the floor,
And, bruised and grumbling, opened the door.
Then he slithered and slunk, with a smile most unpleasant,
Around the whole room, and he took every present.
Playstation controllers! Call of Duty one to four,
Those too-skinny dolls all dressed up like whores.
The edible panties, from the Mister to the Missus,
And the bag of stocking-stuffer chalky brown Kisses.
Then he slunk to the icebox. He took the Who's feast!
He took the jellied eels, he took the roast beast.
Left the fruitcake for 2D but took the boxed wine.
Ol' Murdoc was having a jolly good time.
House after house, he increased his loot,
Stomping around, he left the mark of his boots
Upon the face of all the snow-folk.
He polluted the air by having a smoke.
"C'mon, Murdoc," said 2D, "The night's almost clear.
When Christmas morning comes, I don't want to be here."
They were just loading up all their bags fit to blow,
When they heard a small voice coming down from below
It was Noodle-lou Who, in her cardboard box home.
"Why are you packing up everyone's things?
I thought you were Santa, with presents to bring."
Oh that Murdoc, he'd been caught red-handed!
But he knew the lies that her questions demanded.
"You see little girl, there's folks in this land,
Who live bitter lives, and have no money on hand.
I steal from the rich and give to the poor,
That's the true reason of what Christmas is for."
"I see," said the girl, "these things will go far."
Lifting up her radio helmet and guitar,
She said, "I'd like to make a donation.
There's people about, in some other nation
That haven't heard music! And that makes me glum.
Without these, I can still whistle and hum."
Greedy Murdoc was somewhat taken aback,
But he recovered with no lack of tact.
And his fib fooled the child, so he patted her head,
And gave her a nip, and sent her to bed.
Then it was time to escape with their crime.
Murdoc lashed up 2D and bade him to climb.
But as they ascended, Murdoc couldn't help thinking
Of the poor little girl, and his stomach was sinking.
That child, alone, in her cold packing box,
Had given her all, and that was a lot.
He made up his mind. "We must turn around!"
"But we're almost at the top!" 2D said with a frown.
The dog didn't want to be lynched by a mob.
But Murdoc put in him the fear of Dark Gods.
They reached the town square, where people were milling
Around in their nighties, and talking of killing.
"Where's that bastard! I'd hang him if I could."
But they all fell silent as they saw how Murdoc stood.
"You all are disgusting, you're such a disgrace,
Abandoning a little girl in such a cold, dismal place.
You all are feasting, whereas she is starving.
What's the difference between Noodle and your little darlings?
Don't try to stop me, or put up a resistance.
I may be a misanthrope, but at least I'm consistent."
With that, he called upon Noodle to go,
And escape the Whos in the valley below.
The Whos were all shocked! It was hard to conceive,
And so unmolested, they let them all leave.
In the old Mansion Kong, Noodle left hard reality,
And joined 2D and Murdoc's ador-abusive family.
And then they feasted. They feasted for years!
Upon fine cheeses and turkey and beers.
And the Who people below suffered long music lessons
From the Gorillaz and their loud recording sessions.
Yes, for all of the people that matter,
We can say that they lived happily ever after.
(For those of you wondering where the drummer went,
The peak is Mr. Hobbes! He is the mountain.)
Boy howdy, do I love poem parodies. Tell me what you think!