Warnings: AU to the nth degree. Mashing X1, comics, and Origins into something weird.
Disclaimer: I do not own, and it is better that way. Because I don't want responsibility for it. I also do not own "A Visit From St. Nicholas."
Notes: With apologies to Clement Moore or Henry Livingston. Whoever it was that originally came up with the poem that I've almost completely bastardized here. I've been told it's the time of the year to give things. Being the broke bastard I am, all I have to give is pointless fic written in a few hours. Happy Halloween, people!
Caldo de Pollo for the Black-Hearted
by Fairady
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'Twas the night before XXX-mas, when all through the Deadhut
Not a creature was stirring, not even my oh-so-perky butt;
The lootbags were hung by the TV with care,
For St. Nick to fill up (with room to spare;
The Sidekick was nestled all snug in her bed,
While visions of incendiaries danced in her head;
And Bea in her best episode, and I in my mask,
Had just settled down with an ale cask,
When out on the lawn there came such a cracking,
I sprang from the couch to see what was attacking.
To the window I teleported, katana ready to slash,
I tore down the curtains and broke the glass with a smash!
The corner light through the trees looked kinda sweet,
Gave a glow of death to the hookers across the street-
Well, yeah this happened a few days ago. I was kinda busy kicking ass to wake you up for it. Besides, last time I tried to wake you up you threatened to throw your lava lamp at me. "Wade don't wake me up again or I'll throw this innocent lava lamp at you." Your exact words if I recall- Hey!
Shush! I wasn't going to tell them what you really said you were going to do with it. Don't need to muck about with the rating any more.
Aaaaaanyway. I would've told you the next day, but we had more important stuff to do. Like sleep in, open all the loot, and pig out on cookiez. I was gonna tell you later but noooooooo. You had to get all bitchy and weepy over the Charlie Brown Christmas Special!
I'm not judging you, out loud, I'm just stating the facts.
Well, fine!
I hate you too!
And your peanut brittle sucked!
Yes it did!
I was hungry and didn't want to make anything!
Oh yeah? See if I care! As a matter of fact why don't I take my 'lazy, liar butt' out to-
Oh, so now you want me to finish my story. See this is what happens when you get too impatient and don't let me tell you all the important little factoids you need too know. It was totally necessary to put my awesome fight into rhyme! Which would work a hell of a lot better if the author had the slightest skill in poetry, and wasn't looking for any excuse to cop out of it.
Ow. No need to get violent! Those little ornaments really hurt you know? I was getting to the part about why the yard's all torn up, the windows gone, and the cellar smells like three-day-old rot.
You haven't been in the cellar? Forget that last part then, I lied. The cellar smells fine! Musty and earthy just like any cellar should.
Wait, don't go down- It was ninjas! A group of frickin' ninjas going around and just looking for a fight. I'm serious. They came up to the house looking for trouble. Ok, maybe one of them might have mentioned something about avenging the honor of their murdered teacher, but I wasn't really paying attention. If the students were anything to go by the guy obviously sucked so it was no big loss.
Yeah, yeah. I got a buyer lined up. I don't really want to know why they want rotting ninja corpses, but they'll be gone by tomorrow. It's concrete down there anyway. All you got to do is turn a hose on and it just washes away.
We got any more of that peanut brittle?
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But I heard him scream, as he fled from my sight,
"Happy Fucking XXX-mas to all, and to all a good fight."
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