This is my sad attempt at this...i'm not sure what to call it.
They aren't mine, I'll put them back when I'm done.
My apologies to Clement Clarke Moore.
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'Twas the night after the raid, and all through Seattle
Not a creature walked the streets, not even the cattle;
The ordinaries were gathered at home in their chairs
In the hopes that the alcohol would answer their prayers;
The transgenics were gathered safe below ground,
Hiding from White so they wouldn't be found;
And Max in her jacket, and I in my cap
Had just settled down for a long nights nap.
When from the control room there arose such a clatter
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter;
Grabbing my bat, I ran down the stairs
To see what the trouble was down there.
The room was a wreck as far as I could tell;
With paper and trash overflowing in the pails;
And what to my tortured eyes should I see
But Joshua and Nix painting a picture of me.
With a bucket of paint and a canvas of pure white
I knew in a moment that things weren't quite right;
I watched as they painted, like lightening their hands flew
The image becoming more and more silly as they drew.
"He'll never believe this" I heard Nix say
"And if her ever see it we'll never see the light of day!"
"He'll smash it to pieces and probably us too"
"For fighting to him is nothing new."
I stood there plotting, plotting my revenge
For staring at that painting sure made me cringe.
And the longer I stood there, the longer I thought;
The better my plan became, and it couldn't be fraught.
I'd boil them and stew them and cook them in a pot
And serve them to White still steaming hot;
That would teach them to draw me with horns,
For I'd beat them up and tie them with thorns.
And as I stepped closer I heard Nix sigh
"Wouldn't it be great if we made him cry?"
Joshua laughed as I stepped out of the shadows,
"No my friends that would just be mean"
He turned to me with a quaint little smile,
"What do you think? We've been working for a while,
I stepped closer and was shocked by what I saw,
For the man in the picture wasn't me at all.
Mole stared back at me with a crooked little smile
Which made me sit and ponder awhile.
I had never seen him smile in quite that way;
It made me wonder what exactly to say.
Finally I stood and slapped Joshua on the back;
"It's wonderful my friend but he needs a sack;
"Put it there on his head to cover his face,"
"It will work better than a whole bottle of mace."
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Well, what did you think? Just don't flame me please!