‘Twas the night before Christmas in another new house.
All the Corons were stirring, and each had a mouse.

The stockings were hung by the chimney with glee.
In hopes that my hubby would fill them for me.

The children were reaching another Prestige,
Call of Duty was blaring; my house under siege.

When out on the farm, we heard what we heard…
A cranky ‘ole man, yelling word after word.

But it wasn’t our neighbor, like last Christmas year.
I swear it was Nick, wearing tactical gear?

So we all paused our game, and we headed outside.
We hurried our steps. We tried not to collide.

But being a blonde, I’m not all that bright.
I tripped and I fell… what a hysterical sight!

They giggled. I laughed. We went on our way.
Time to see what was out there… hey, maybe a sleigh?

But it wasn’t like that. No… no… no… not at all.
There right before us, was a man rather small.

He saw us approaching, but it didn’t stop him.
The look on his face was rather quite grim.

We asked what was wrong, and his face really morphed.
He was looking for Rudolph… said he’d been taken by dwarfs.

So we jumped in his sleigh, and we headed up high.
I cried my fool head off… ’cause I don’t like to fly.

We buzzed ’round the world, looking for his reindeer.
When we finally found him, we started to cheer!

He descended on Dwarfville, cursing this one and that.
Santa saved his poor reindeer, in just seconds flat.

With our mission complete; Rudolph in the lead.
We headed back home with thundering speed.

He dropped us off quick, and spun right around.
With Rudolph now safe, he no longer frowned.

As he left our small farmhouse, we heard him mid-flight:

“Merry Christmas to all… except you F*cking Evil Dwarfs who almost ruined this night!”