The Night Before Dark Side
By A. Circio
Twas the night before Christmas, when all 'cross the moon
Not a robot was stirring, not even a GOOhN.
The stockings were hung by the gene tubes with care,
In hopes that Santa Gundam soon would be there.
The Innovades were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of world domination danced in their heads.
And First in his ‘jammies, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap.
When out on the perimeter there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the office I flew like a flash,
Opened the desktop and threw up the dash.
The Earth on the cusp of the debris belt above
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects thereof.
When, what to my wondering cameras should appear,
But a mechanized sleigh, and eight cardboard reindeer.
With a hunched little driver, so spry and so slick,
I knew in a moment it must be that dick.
More rapid than TRANS-AM his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and squealed, and called them by name!
"Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid! on, on Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to my compound, the Gundeer they flew,
With the sleigh full of Gunpla, and that maniac too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard such a din
The stomping and smashing of each cardboard limb.
As I phoned for security, and was turning around,
Through the ceiling the Wraith came with a bound.
He was dressed all in white, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of Gunpla he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.
He was slender and simple, like a futuristic elf,
And I balked when I saw him, in spite of myself!
A flash of his visor and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his lack-of nose,
And giving a nod, back through the ceiling he rose!
He sprang to his sleigh, to his 'Skins gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he flew out of sight,
“Merry Christmas foolish Coordinator, and to all a good-night!"
By A. Circio
Twas the night before Christmas, when all 'cross the moon
Not a robot was stirring, not even a GOOhN.
The stockings were hung by the gene tubes with care,
In hopes that Santa Gundam soon would be there.
The Innovades were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of world domination danced in their heads.
And First in his ‘jammies, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap.
When out on the perimeter there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the office I flew like a flash,
Opened the desktop and threw up the dash.
The Earth on the cusp of the debris belt above
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects thereof.
When, what to my wondering cameras should appear,
But a mechanized sleigh, and eight cardboard reindeer.
With a hunched little driver, so spry and so slick,
I knew in a moment it must be that dick.
More rapid than TRANS-AM his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and squealed, and called them by name!
"Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid! on, on Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to my compound, the Gundeer they flew,
With the sleigh full of Gunpla, and that maniac too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard such a din
The stomping and smashing of each cardboard limb.
As I phoned for security, and was turning around,
Through the ceiling the Wraith came with a bound.
He was dressed all in white, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of Gunpla he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.
He was slender and simple, like a futuristic elf,
And I balked when I saw him, in spite of myself!
A flash of his visor and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his lack-of nose,
And giving a nod, back through the ceiling he rose!
He sprang to his sleigh, to his 'Skins gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he flew out of sight,
“Merry Christmas foolish Coordinator, and to all a good-night!"