First, a little explanation about this songfic: this is a very famous Christmas song here in the Netherlands, and was made famous by the comedian Youpvan 'tHek (don't even think about pronouncing his name, if you're not Dutch, you will fail to correctly do so). After hearing it twice today, I decided to translate it, and add a little Pokémon sauce (re-read this part after you finished reading the songfic to fully understand this part). The original version is about how a young boy's rabbit Flappie (henceforth referred to as Buneary) disappears just before Christmas, and found him back later. I remixed it into Professor Rowan losing his Buneary, and gave it to the masses on Fanfiction. Please enjoy and review! (Disclaimer: I own neither Pokémon nor the original version of this song) (Remember: this is sang from Rowan's POV)

It was Christmas morning, 1961,

I remember it so well, Buneary's pen was empty,

and my mother said that I couldn't go into the barn,

and if I played sweet, she'd give me a nice treat.

She didn't know either where Buneary could have gone,

she'd ask my father, but because he was working,

inside the barn, I should search for Buneary,

he'd probably be somewhere in the grass.

But I closed the pen so well,

like I did every night.

I even went back last night,

I don't know why I did that,

I stood very long in front of it as if I knew what I know now.

It was Christmas morning, 1961,

we searched for Buneary, father searched with us,

at the trees and the water, but not inside the barn,

because he couldn't be there? And I shook no.

We searched together, together 'till the coffee,

The family drank coffee, but I did not.

I thought about Buneary, and that the night was cold,

I bended down my head, with big tears of sadness.

But I closed the pen so well,

like I did every night.

I even went back last night,

I don't know why I did that,

I stood very long in front of it as if I knew what I know now.

It was the first day of Christmas, 1961,

the family was eating, but I didn't join.

I was thinking about Buneary, my cute little Buneary,

where could he be? I couldn't take one bite.

After the soup, the main dish was served,

my father spoke amused: Look, there's Buneary!

I saw the silver scale, and there he was in three pieces.

And for the first I saw my father as a horrible man.

I went yelling and stomping to bed,

laying crying on the sheets for a long hour.

I stood up the stairs cursing and swearing,

and yelled down: Buneary was mine!

I stood very long in front of the window,

but the pen was standing there, deserted and alone.

It was the second day of Christmas, 1961,

Mother remembers it so well: father's bed was empty.

And I said that she couldn't go into the barn,

and if she played sweet, I'd give her a nice treat.

A sad, yet funny song, right? Please review, and give a try at reading my other stories. And have a merry, dead pet rabbit-less Christmas and a happy new year!