Gather Around

Time to dip into the eggnog and round up the kids. Here’s our adaptation of that famous holiday classic, “Twas A Night Before Christmas“. So gather up a blanket, put away the cell, take a deep breath, and try to relax for a spell. This story is for your enjoyment, you won’t find a lot of gore, but with entertainment this good, who needs any more?

 

Santa’s Feathered Helper…

 

‘Twas the night before Quackimas, and here at the ‘Bird,

We were all but shut down, we’d given the word.

We’d posted our latest for the long year,

In hopes our fans would raise a glass in good cheer.

JB’s follies gave us plenty of really good “Quacks”,

And Bill’s tips were piling up in really high stacks.

Carol’s Recipes were a hit, as was the site-map,

It was time we shuffled off for a long winter’s nap.

I had just fluffed my pillow when I heard a great clatter;

Raced back to my laptop to investigate the matter.

Away to the search sites I flew like a flash,

Speed typed special keywords in a really mad dash.

The glare from the night lamp blinded like snow.

So I got up, pulled the drapes, and stared out my window.

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a red and white duck carrying lots of cool gear.

With great wings a-flapping so lively and merry,

I knew in a flash ’twas Nick’s duck friend St. Larry.

 

 

More rapid than eagles did Larry soar past;

He whistled, and shouted, then honked a great blast.

“Now, Bob, Connie, and all who post here,

Keep up your good writing, you have nothing to fear.

To the top of search engines, to the top of the Net,

Javabird’s a winner, sure seems a good bet!”

Since Larry was tiring like any burdened Duck would,

He swooped to our roof and threw back his red hood.

“I’m hungry,” he said, with a gleam in his eye,

I wonder if they’ve got any apple tart pie?”

With no warning, he stumbled; an act of dumb luck,

From high on the roof to a puddle of muck.

I saw it all happen—did you already guess?

‘Twas remarkably graceful, though it ended a mess.

He tumbled and fell with a zag and a weave,

Tucked for a dive—I expected to grieve.

If I’d landed as hard, I’d end up all mad,

But for Larry ’twas nothing, not even half bad.

“Look at me!” he laughed, whilst wiping black goo.

“I was certain I’d end up a Christmas duck stew.

I’m relieved I’m uninjured from my silly fall,

‘Tis no reason, this season, for a 9-1-1 call.”

Though his clothes were grimy as he climbed to his feet,

He seemed mighty cheerful—surprisingly sweet.

Back to business, he resorted all the gear in his pack,

Before flinging it high over his ruffly-feathered back.

He stood there a moment seeming far too merry,

I suspect he’d been drinking—’twas sucking down a cherry!

The mud made his beard look more dirt than snow,

It was really quite long—it needed a mow.

He brushed at his clothes and checked for loose teeth;

Bent over, grabbed a bough, and spun a nice wreath.

As I watched I decided I liked his huge belly,

That shook when he quacked like a tub full of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old bird,

And I laughed to myself, though I spoke not a word.

A wink of his eye and flap of a wing,

At least reassured he required no sling.

Suddenly, he barged straight through our door,

Sorted presents, stuffed stockings, and a whole lot more.

 

 

Pausing for breath he brought feather to beak;

For a moment he looked like some blog-writing geek.

There was no time for a photo, he quickly rushed by,

Took a flying leap, and soared into the sky.

But I heard him exclaim, ere he flew out of sight,

“Merry Quackimas to y’all, and to y’all a good-night.”

 

- The End -

 

Art By Shaun Novion
Adaptation By Bob Anderson

© 2010 Javabird LLC.  All rights reserved.

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