The Grinch That Stole Christmas
A collaboration between Matrix234 and Skyerose.
Disclaimer: Do we still have to put these? Seriously? Fine.
We don't own Stargate SG1...
We don't own the Nightmare Before X-Mass unfortunately…
We don't own the rights to the many songs we will butcher during this story…
We don't own the Muppets Christmas carol…
We don't own the Grinch …
Lets cut to the chase here…
We don't own ANYTHING!
Plot: COMPLETE AND UTTER MUSICAL NONSENSE. Don't hate us. Blame it on the Christmas spirit.
T'was the night before Christmas all through the base, not an airman was stirring…until…you know Christmas at the SGC won't end well…Que music, snow and… the Grinch!?
How the Grinch stole the SGC
A Matrix/Skyerose collaboration
It was the holidays, a time for giving, receiving, relaxing, but national holidays meant nothing to the people in charge.
The president sat as his walnut desk in the oval office, a roaring fire blazing behind him as he perused the latest mission report from the SGC, and as his soft chuckle echoed around the room, a smile began to form on his lips.
SGC mission report #1294752
Date: 24-26th December 2008
Base commander: G. Hammond
"T'was the night before Christmas, when all through the base
Not an airman was stirring, not even Sgt Chase .
The Weapons were hung by the rack with great care,
In hopes that no baddies would soon be there.
The teams were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of calm worlds danced in their heads.
And Walter in his BDU's and I in my shirt
Had just settled our brains for a long night work.
When out on the gate there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the desk to see what was the matter.
Away to the gate room I flew like a flash,
Tore open the door and took the stairs in a dash…"
"Unscheduled off world activation, no teams currently off-world, sir."
"Close the iris."
"The iris won't close, sir!"
"The light of the gate on the metal work below
Gave the lustre of mid-day with its stalwart glow,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
"With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick."
"Just what is the meaning of this!" I demanded;
This intrusion's absurd.
I was starting to question my sanity when out of his sleigh,
A present dropped on the frame work metal.
My first instincts were that it was a bomb,
The airman took haste and pointed their guns,
He smiled so kindly, that all thoughts were forgotten,
And the airman became children with eager delight,
The present was tempting, no doubt about that,
But the intruder was more pressing, so I gave a shout.
"But, he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Dasher! Now, Dancer! Now, Prancer and Vixen!
On Comet! On Cupid! On Donner and Blitzen!
Back through the gate! To the world we call gall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"
To say I was stunned would be telling a lie,
Santa was real and reindeers could fly.
But there still was the matter of the present he left;
I called for Siler to sort out the mess.
He arrived just in time;
things were starting to soar,
Straight from panic to outright uproar.
He took his time checking, fiddling and such,
But gave his opinion it was a present,
This was all too much.
I told him to take it straight to a lab,
Proper diagnosis was needed to be had.
But for the life of me, I couldn't see what would happen,
When he opened that present, the SGC has never been quiet,
That must is a given, but an uprising of presents?
It was not to be believed.
Siler looked at the box,
Pulled the wrapper open and stared,
His every nightmare unravelling before his eyes at that very moment.