Christmas Special: Les The Night Before Christmas by Kelly Aten

December 24, 2016

Christmas Special

Les The Night Before Christmas by Kelly Aten

Hi there, my name is Kelly Aten and I’m one of those ‘Aspiring Writers’ that gather around the fan fiction sites and Facebook writer’s pages. You know the type, the kind that is also a massive reader and fangirls every time a favorite author likes our comment on Facebook? Anyway I started thinking about the holidays and how everyone has their own rituals and traditions. Maybe your holiday isn’t complete unless you watch your favorite cartoon or movie on TV. In our house we watch the movie Piranha staring William Katt (1995) every Christmas eve. My partner started it more than fifteen years ago with her brother and I’ve now been inducted into the tradition. 

So anyway, television, books, magazines, they swamp us with those ‘traditional’ stories and fables every year but what if you just can’t relate? I started thinking, why can’t I re-write one of those holiday classics? For instance, maybe I could re-write something like ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas. The poem was first published in the Troy Sentinel in 1823 but there is some dispute as to whether it was written by Henry Livingston Jr. or Clement Clarke Moore. No matter who wrote it though, I find it out of date and hard to relate to. And because of the fact that it is nearly two hundred years old I have decided to change the words to something that I think better fits my life, love, and humor. Hopefully you feel the same way.

Here is my spoof on ‘Twas The Night Before Christmas (aka “A Visit From St. Nicholas” or “The Night Before Christmas”)

Les The Night Before Christmas (A Visit From St. Nicolette)

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house,

Not a pet was stirring, cats and dogs all worn out;

The stockings were hung by size left to right,

‘cause my crazy wife takes OCD to new heights

The children were exhausted from game night again,

Dreaming of Minecraft, Nerf, and Kylo Ren

We were in lounge pants, hers black and mine red

Bras both removed when the kids went to bed

When out on the lawn there was a scream and a squee,

We pushed pause on Netflix and went to go see.

Aluminum bat in hand, I stood at the door ready

A memento of softball when my knees were still steady

I peeked through the window and blinked kind of slow

Into a yard that was twinkling with lights on the snow

At first I blamed wine and alcohol blurred eyes,

For the sight of a sleigh with woman inside,

Wearing a red flight suit both voluptuous and svelte,

She was pulled by robot reindeer wearing fake fur pelts.

Both nimble and sure it was a safe bet

That our wintertime guest was Saint Nicolette

“Stay! Dasher, stay! Dancer, stay! Prancer, and Vixen,

“Wait! Comet, wait! Cupid, wait! Donner and Blixen;

She came to the porch and knocked on our door

I ducked down beneath the window unsure

What could she want on such a cold night?

Shouldn’t she be out on a world-circling flight?

Cautious and leery I drained my wine cup,

Then opened the door and said ‘Hey Nic, what’s up?’

With a twinkling and winking of her coal-black eyes

She shouldered a sack and shoved me aside

‘I hear you leave cookies and wine for the elves’

‘I thought I’d come down and see for myself’

‘I also hear that you and the wife have been good’

‘But things in the bedroom have not been what they should

A bundle of toys was slung on her back,

And she looked like a pervert just opening her pack:

Her eyes - how they twinkled! Her dimples how merry,

Her cheeks were like roses, her nose like a cherry;

I suspected she drank as she dashed through the snow

How else to keep warm without a fire’s soft glow?

The first thing pulled out was labeled ‘Santa’s Secret’

The wife, intently watching, said ‘Oh can we keep it?’

‘Batteries Included’ I read aloud to the room

I looked at my wife and we both started to swoon

On and on she withdrew more toys from the bag

Game changers all, the jolliest of swag

A wink of her eye and a twist of her head

Her sack had been emptied and we wanted our bed.

She spoke not a word, but slipped back out the door

Then the sleigh flew away with a Harley Davidson roar

My wife looked and me, and I stared back

Both of us awed at what came from her sack

We may have been good throughout the whole year

We may have celebrated with wine and with cheer

But that Christmas eve we took ‘good’ to new heights

Happy Christmas to all, and to all a great night.

 

K. Aten Online

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