'Twas the night before Christmas,
When all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, except for Spike on the couch;
The stockings were hung by the fuel engines with care,
In hopes that St. Nick would put Marbolos in there.
Edward was nestled all snug in her bed,
While visions of hacking danced in her head.
And Ein in his bed, and I in there too,
All settled down wondering what to do,
When out on the dock there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
The chill of the night on my fat metal ass.
There was a scream and a moan way too low
Some sounds were coming from the couch below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear
Spike and Faye screwing like mating reindeer,
Rocking the couch, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment that I would be sick.
The couch how it rocked! Oh how it swayed!
And she shouted, and called him by name:
"OH SPIKE! YES SPIKE! AGAIN BUT THE SAME!"
If I didn't stop it the couch they would break!
"Hey you two damn kids! Please stop! Stop for my sake!"
"Shut up you old man!" Spike angrily declared
If you were screwing Ein I wouldn't have cared!
"Go back to sleep and just let us be!"
And with that said they drove for the tree!
And then, in horror, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I let out a sigh, and was turning around,
Down the chimney came St. Nick with a bound
He was shocked and displeased for a moment or three,
Then he let out a yell and then a big scream:
"Spike what are you doing? That just isn't fair,
I need that whore to screw up north of here!"
The stump of a blunt he held tight in his teeth,
Spike glared daggers at the old elf in defeat;
"Fine you old bitch! He said with a yell,
You can have Jet, But Faye I can't sell."
His eyes -- how they burned! His dimples how scary!
"Spike! You dumb bastard! I am not a damn fairy!"
Jet looked disappointed for he just couldn't see,
Then he remembered his love, his Bonny, his tree!
Faye stared at Santa disdainfully;
"Hey just presents under the tree!"
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
I thought there would be so much more to dread!
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
He turned to Spike and made a rude gesture
And giving a nod, He looked like a molester;
"He wanted to get laid, But that ain't gonna happen,"
Spike said aloud, As he watched the old elf walk off rappin'
"Spike you're a damn bastard and that's all to be said,
"Merry Christmas to all, I hope you get head!"
When all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, except for Spike on the couch;
The stockings were hung by the fuel engines with care,
In hopes that St. Nick would put Marbolos in there.
Edward was nestled all snug in her bed,
While visions of hacking danced in her head.
And Ein in his bed, and I in there too,
All settled down wondering what to do,
When out on the dock there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
The chill of the night on my fat metal ass.
There was a scream and a moan way too low
Some sounds were coming from the couch below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear
Spike and Faye screwing like mating reindeer,
Rocking the couch, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment that I would be sick.
The couch how it rocked! Oh how it swayed!
And she shouted, and called him by name:
"OH SPIKE! YES SPIKE! AGAIN BUT THE SAME!"
If I didn't stop it the couch they would break!
"Hey you two damn kids! Please stop! Stop for my sake!"
"Shut up you old man!" Spike angrily declared
If you were screwing Ein I wouldn't have cared!
"Go back to sleep and just let us be!"
And with that said they drove for the tree!
And then, in horror, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I let out a sigh, and was turning around,
Down the chimney came St. Nick with a bound
He was shocked and displeased for a moment or three,
Then he let out a yell and then a big scream:
"Spike what are you doing? That just isn't fair,
I need that whore to screw up north of here!"
The stump of a blunt he held tight in his teeth,
Spike glared daggers at the old elf in defeat;
"Fine you old bitch! He said with a yell,
You can have Jet, But Faye I can't sell."
His eyes -- how they burned! His dimples how scary!
"Spike! You dumb bastard! I am not a damn fairy!"
Jet looked disappointed for he just couldn't see,
Then he remembered his love, his Bonny, his tree!
Faye stared at Santa disdainfully;
"Hey just presents under the tree!"
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
I thought there would be so much more to dread!
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
He turned to Spike and made a rude gesture
And giving a nod, He looked like a molester;
"He wanted to get laid, But that ain't gonna happen,"
Spike said aloud, As he watched the old elf walk off rappin'
"Spike you're a damn bastard and that's all to be said,
"Merry Christmas to all, I hope you get head!"