T’was the night before Christmas; such a predictable rhyme.
I’ll change it a bit; make it different this time.

The year’s almost done; Saint Nick is in town.
The children are waiting, for this jolly ‘ol clown.

Too bad he is dead; a zombie you see.
Bitten by Rudolph; right under that tree.

The reindeer were sick; I knew it last year.
When I stole Santa’s sleigh; they neglected to steer.

We did hit a tree; that much is fact.
But I didn’t die off; my brain was intact.

I crawled to my house; waited all year.
It’s Christmas again; he is finally here.

We heard on the roof, a thunderous thud.
We knew in a moment, it was time to spill blood.

It was Zombie Saint Nick; he was missing an eye.
His brains were exposed, and he started to cry:

“Now Dasher! Now Dancer! Now, Prancer and Vixen!”
“On, Comet! On, Cupid! On, Donner and Blitzen!”

“Get me their brains, and bring me their hearts.”
“Feed on their limbs, and the rest of their parts.”

So up to the roof, my family did go.
Making their way to this ho-didly ho.

It wasn’t too long, before it was done.
Zombie Saint Nick, he decided to run.

He jumped in his sleigh; disappeared out of sight.
Yelled out a warning, which cut through the night.

“This isn’t the end. There’s no cause to cheer.”
“Zombie Saint Nick will return in a year!”

“So better be good; and by good I mean dead.”
“‘Cause if you’re still here, it’ll be off with your head.”