'Twas the night before Christmas and, deep in the bunker,
Dean dragged a witch, seeking somewhere to dump her.
"Unhand me, sir!" she demanded, all haughty.
"Not a chance, sister," he said. "You've been naughty."
"I've made a list of your deeds; I've checked twice,
And in 365 days, there's not one you've been nice.
And, right now, my brother is checking his stocking
For ammo he keeps in case monsters come knocking."
So, Sam filled his gun with his trusty witch-bullet,
And Dean cried, "Hey look! Here's a cracker! Let's pull it!"
And before she could even draw breath to say "dangs!"
The wicked old witch went out with two bangs.
Deftly nabbing the prize, Dean soon unrolled the joke,
Then he chuckled and, giving his brother a poke,
Asked, "how would you locate a panicky witch?"
"That's easy," said Sam. "It's the one with a twitch!"
To toast the dead hag and the end of her witchin',
They laughed as they made their way down to the kitchen.
"Look alive!" Dean exclaimed with a gleam in his eye.
"It's midnight, it's Christmas, now I'm craving mince pie!"
.