Twas the apocalypse before christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas, when from outer space

the creatures were stirring, searching the place;

The parents were hung by the reaper’s red glare,

Their kids at St. Vincents, getting medical care.

The zombies all shuffled, their hair up in dreds;

While visions of brains filled their stocking-capped heads;

And troops in their helmets with guns and their traps,

Shivered outside with loud stomps and their claps

When up in the sky there arose such a sight,

The flash of an E-M-P filled the night.

The soldiers hunkered down in their holes right quick

In case twas a death ray aimed to shrivel and stick.

The moon glared red in the deep crimson glow.

Giving the lustre of midday to objects below,

When what to our wondering eyes did appear,

But an alien spaceship incredibly near

With a large, gruesome driver, evil and sick,

Shooting his lasers in a speedy click-click

More rapid than fighters his cruisers they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:

"Now, Vorlons! now, Martians! now Cylons and Drengin!

On, Dremer! on, Duros! on, Durlans and Drayan!

The soldiers they shouted, as they fired their guns

Bazookas and cannons, a line of small suns

Tearing divots and holes in the alien horde

Who crashed with their colonists still on board.

Those that made it through the lead-filled night

Emerged from their ships to conquer and blight.

Just when it seemed, the end had drawn near,

The zombies arrived, to make it quite clear.

But, wait, what’s this? The zombies ran by

And attacked the aliens who massed nearby

Soon, in a twinkling, we heard the real proof

As they tossed the invaders from evry roof

Death rays and lasers burned zombies bright

The battle was fierce, by dawn’s early light.

When out of the smoke, their leader did bound

A grizzled old zombie, his head on the ground

He had a long rod, from his neck to his foot,

And his clothes were tattered, all ashes and soot;

A bundle of heads he had flung on his back,

Green alien blood dripped from his pack.

His eyes, sere and empty, called to his bod

that picked his head up, and stuck it onto the rod

The stump of an arm he held tight in his teeth,

And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath;

He had a voice so creepy, wheezy and loud

And called to his kin who came in a crowd.

A wink of his good eye and a twirl of his head

Soon gave us to know we had nothing to dread;

The zombies walked past us, the last ones alive

And told us in their way, tonight we’d not strive.

With brains for a week, they made it quite clear

The battle would start the day after new year.

But we heard them exclaim, as they passed out of sight—

“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”