'Twas the Night Before Christmas-- a Zombie Survival Tale
I've had an idea for awhile now to re-write a Christmas classic as a zombie story. This concept is, of course, not new territory at all. You may remember that last Christmas I shared with you all a book of re-written Zombie Christmas Carols. But I decided I wanted to work on the most famous Christmas poem of all-- The Night Before Christmas! Much to my dismay, I recently saw a book at Borders that was just that, The Zombie Night Before Christmas. I thought, "oh no! Someone else has already done this, and it's published!" I took a peek inside and was delighted to see that it SUCKED. It wasn't a creative re-write at all. And forgive my ego, but I think mine is pretty awesome. So, without further ado, enjoy my version (which is property of me, so don't even bother to steal it. I've taken steps to prove I wrote it, and I may try and get it published someday)!
The Night Before Christmas-- a Zombie Survival Tale
by Miranda Angelic Baldwin
'Twas the night before Christmas; every boy, girl, and spouse
were waiting for zombies to break into the house.
The windows and doors were all boarded with care
in hopes that they'd hold when the zombies got there!
The children were trembling, hiding under their beds
while visions of death lumbered by through their heads.
And I with my crowbar and my guy with his gun
knew we were in for some zombie killing fun!
Then out on the lawn there arose such a moaning
from zombies who were intent to do nothing but groaning.
Off to the windows we flew like a flash,
our guns were ready to take out the batch.
The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow
gave a luster to the green, decaying flesh below.
When what to our wondering eyes should appear?
A military tank-- zombie killers were here!
With a tough looking driver so lively and quick,
I knew it was famed zombie hunter, St. Nick!
The tank rolled on, killing zombies as they came;
St. Nick shouted and called his team by code name--
"Now, Dasher! Now, Dancer! Now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid! On, Donder and Blitzen!
Pull up to the porch! Watch out for that wall!
Now blow them to bits! Shoot away! Kill them all!"
The zombies exploded as I watched them 're-die.'
Grenades all around, body parts rose to the sky!
So up to the house came the tank and its crew
with an armory of guns and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a panic, I heard on the roof
the scratching and gnawing of each zombie tooth.
As I drew in my head and was turning around,
busting through the door, St. Nicholas came with a bound!
He was dressed all in camo, his boots splashed with mud,
and his clothes were all tarnished with entrails and blood.
A bundle of machetes he had flung on his back,
and he looked like a madman who was ready to attack!
His eyes-- they were blood shot, his skin was so sallow.
His nose-- it was broken! His cheeks-- they were hollow!
His droll little mouth was set in a frown
as he yelled at us all to drop and get down.
The stump of a cigar he held in his teeth,
and the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face that was dire and sour.
He chuckled a bit and exuded great power!
He was ripped and strong, a definite bad-ass!
I laughed and I thought, "these zombies won't last!"
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
I knew that we all had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work.
He killed all the zombies and left none to lurk!
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
he gave a quick nod to the crew he had chose.
He sprang to the tank, to his team gave a whistle,
and away they all flew like a heat seeking missile!
But I heard him exclaim as he drove through the dead--
"Happy Christmas to all! And AIM FOR THE HEAD!"
Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and enjoy your weekend!