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A Gamer's Christmas Carol
'Twas The Night Before Christmas
Susan Carver
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house,
Not an iMac was stirring, not even the mouse.
The stockings were hung by the flat screen with care,
In hopes that Steve Jobs soon would be there;
The gamerz were nestled all snug in their beds
While visions of leet game-toys danced in their heads;
And ma in her flannels, and I with a wag,
Had just settled down for a long winter?s frag.
When out on the driveway there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the desk to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I ran fast and true
Tore open the curtains and looked at the view.
The moon on the crust of 4-day old snow
Gave the gray look of slush to the objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature Gulfstream. I mean it, my dear.
With one arm extended, a turtleneck sleeve,
I knew in a moment it must be our Steve.
More rapid than critics, his gamers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now Westlake! Now, Aspyr! Now MacPlay and Blizzard!
On, Freeverse! On, Ambrosia! I?m freezing my gizzard!
To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!
Now code away! Code away! Code away all!
And then, in a twinkling, I heard in the den,
The coughing and grumbling of those wonderful men.
As I ran to the room, to see the commotion,
Down the chimney Steve Jobs tumbled, in 1 motion.
He was dressed in blue jeans, and a turtleneck too,
He had a nice beard, like the good Santas do.
A bundle of Macs he had flung on his back,
He looked overburdened, and ready to crack.
His eyes, how they twinkled! His wire rims, how zippy!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose, somewhat drippy.
His droll little mouth was drawn up in a smile,
And the beard of his chin could be seen for a mile.
He was grinning and lean, a right jolly tycoon,
And I laughed when I saw him, dressed in maroon,
A wink of his eye and a demo of Civ,
Soon gave me to know I had reason to live.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings but mine, the big jerk.
So laying my finger aside of my nose,
I gave him a salute, as up the chimney he rose.
He sprang to his jet, to his team gave a yell,
And away they all flew, like the bats out of hell.
But I heard him exclaim, as he flew out of sight,
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good fight!
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