Twas the night before Q-mas, when all through the house
Not a traitor was stirring, not even the Musk.
The autists were stuck at their keyboards with beer,
In hopes that Q's Infodump soon would be there.
The shills were nestled all snug in their threads,
While visions of Brock's penis danced in their heads.
And Baker in his pastebin, and I in my app,
Had just settled our brains for a long evening’s nap.
When out on the web there arose such a clatter,
I thought SKG could see what was the matter.
Away from the thread I typed like the Flash,
Popped open the browser right from console's bash.
The sound of the voice in the radio snow.
Gave meaning of mission to watchers below.
When, what to my wondering ears should appear,
But an EAM from Andrews I hear.
With hissing and crackle, the bands I skipped through,
I knew in a moment it must be from Q.
More rapid than lightning his signal did came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called out the same!
"SKYKING SKYKING DO NOT ANSWER!"
"TIME 0 0 AUTHORIZATION MIKE NOVEMBER"
"KILL BILL, I REPEAT, KILL BILL." the speaker did tout.
"THIS IS ANDREWS … OUT"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up past the house-tops a Nightwatch did flew,
With a plane full of Operators, and Q was there too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard in the channel.
The jabbering and laughing and chatting of each of the crew.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney Mad Dog did come with a bound.
He was dressed all in cammies, from his foot to his head.
And his clothes were all stained as his enemies had bled.
A bundle of Guns he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.
His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the fear of death put in me had started to show.
The butt of his rifle he held tight in his fist,
smoke from the barrel encircled like a wreath.
He made a stern face and a baleful expression,
I shook when he laughed, he gave that impression!
He was wirey and fit, and ready to kill,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of the chill!
A wink of his eye 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 loaded all my rifles, then turned with a jerk.
Then laying his finger on the F5 he chose,
And pulling a cable, up the chimney he rose!
He sprang to a Chopper, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere they flew out of sight,
"Happy Q-mas to all, and to all a good-night!"