Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the motel

Not a creature was stirring in Heaven or Hell

The salt ring was placed 'round the front door with care

To keep out the black smoke that filled the night air

The Winchesters was snuggled all warm in their beds

With visions of exorcisims filling their heads

Sam with his laptop and Dean with his porn

Had just got to sleep all wounded and worn

When out in the lot there came such a bang

The two hunters woke up, thinking 'Demon or fang?'

Out the door to their Impala they ran like the wind

To face werewolves or ghosts or men who changed skin

The full moonlight shone on the motel below

And showed the two boys just what lay in the snow

But what should their sleep deprived eyes should appear?

But a moulding old sleigh and eight ghostly reindeer

And the ghoulish small elf that drove such a sight

Was clear to them in the pale moonlight

This haunted Sant Nick, his eyes holding a gleam

Called out through the night to his haunted sleigh team

"Now Slasher! Now Basher! Oh Gonner and Lector!

On Killer! On Sinner! On Goner and Fester!"

Up on top the motel is the couse the team flew

With a sleigh full of evil (and gingerbread too)

Both the Winchesters saw and heard on the roof

The creaking and moaning of each long-dead hoof

The two ran to their room and, armed, turned around

Down the chimney came the elf with a terrible bound

He was moulded and rotten from time in the earth

And covered in ashed from sliding down the hearth

With a bloody old bag, which he had on his back

He looked like a killer with the police on his tracks

His face, how frightening! His voice was like death!

His body was boney like an addict to meth

His mouth filled with teeth that were sharp like small studs

His once off-white beard was soaked through with dried blood

The stump of a finger he held clasped in his jaw

He was thw worst thing Sam and Dean ever saw!

His innards and ribs showing through his slashed gut

His eyes were deep-set and as black as a rut

He was scary and freaky, this mean ghost of an elf

Sam and Dean flinched back, inspite of themselves

The elf in his eye and the mean twist of his head

Told the hunters they had everything to dread

He advanced on the two; now it's time for their work!

Dean cocked his gun with a violent, mean jerk

Santa stopped for a moment and glared at the man

And knocked Dean to the floor with a twist of his hand!

Sam lunged for his gun and took aim post-haste

With one well-placed shot, Zombie Clause lost his face!

This mock of St. Nick stumbled back with a scream

And went up the chimney as quick as a dream

The two young adults ran back out to the lot

As the ghoul flew away, they gave one last shot

He fell to the ground where he writhed and moaned

With one shot to the heart, Santa died with a groan

Sam and Dean gave a sigh and the walked out of sight

"Just once," Sam exclamed, "Can we sleep through the night?"