And all through the house..
Not a creature was stirring; not even a mouse.
Because someone had nerve gassed the family and stolen all the presents.
Merry Christmas!
PAD
And all through the house..
Not a creature was stirring; not even a mouse.
Because someone had nerve gassed the family and stolen all the presents.
Merry Christmas!
PAD
• 
I like yours better.
lol. Thats a lot better than the orignal. Makes more sense too. hehe. 🙂
Happy holidays to you and your wonderful family!
Suddenly the Grinch’s lack of foresight or perhaps access to volatile chemical combinations is glaringly evident. That’ll keep me awake until I get out of work at 6, so, thanks, PAD! Hope the jolly prowler leaves everybody good stuff!
This is why I always sleep in a gas-mask. It’s not that uncomfortable once you get used to it.
why I always sleep in a gas-mask
.
Are you my mummy?
Wow, that’s the second best Christmas thing I’ve ever read (after yesterday’s Sluggy Freelance did a brilliant parody of Little Drummer Boy).
It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside… Wait, that’s more nerve gas (collapses)
Strangely, that’s somehow *less* creepy than the thought of a fat man in a red suit breaking into your house while you’re asleep to *leave* you stuff…
.
Happy _______ to you and yours, and to everyone on this board!
.
(BTW, Peter? I recently read your Sir Apropos story in ‘Heroes in Training’ and wanted to thank you for all the laughter it provided!)
The Merry Christmas sentiment is welcome, and warmly returned. But I’m afraid I did get a momentary chill to see a Jew, even in jest, refer to gassing a family.
“A Visit From Nick Fury”
With Apologies To Clement Clarke Moore
‘Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even this louse;
The longbox was hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that new comics soon would be there.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of X-Box games danced in their heads;
Mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter’s nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the head to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I ran like The Flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mystery to subjects below,
When, what to my wandering eyes should appear,
But agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., and eight flying in gear,
With a bitter old driver so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be Col. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his agents they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
“Now, Gaffer! Now, Gabe Jones! Now, Koenig and Jimmy!
On, Dugan! on Stupid! on, Goner let’s shimmy!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now smash Hydra! dash Hydra! dash Hydra all!”
As dry heaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the Agents they flew,
With the squad full of boys, and Nick Fury, too.
And then in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The punching and jawing of each little “Oof!”
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the chimney Nick Fury came with a bound.
He was dressed all in gear, from his head to his boot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with gashes and soot;
A bundle of foes he had flung off his back,
And he looked like a meddler, just opening his pack.
His eye-how it twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a berry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the stubbled chin was as bright as the snow;
The stub of a cigar held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a round little telly,
That shook when he laughed like a soldier named Kelly.
He was onery and tough, a gun-toting elf,
And I gasped when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A blink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And killed off Strucker, then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his pose,
And giving a nod, up to the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his car, to his team gave a epistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a missile.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
“HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL,
AND TO ALL A GOOD FIGHT!”
What the hëll is wrong with you people?
.
🙂
“Here comes Santa Claus
Here comes Santa Claus
He’s been taking Viagra…”
And for something *really* yulelicious, check out the Pic of the Week on Asia Carrera’s homepage http://www.asiacarrera.com Happy holidays indeed!
lol those poams were hilerious in a little whacked way though do not want to ever wonder where the santa in peters poam got the nerve gas. and no doubt moore would see the humor in these takes.
And no doubt spell, punctuate and capitalize correctly when he does.
.
(I just don’t get the unwillingness to even make the effort.)
Recently, I noticed that the “pa-rumpa-pa-pum” part of Little Drummer Boy scanned pretty well with “Snakes on a Plane”…
.
Baby Jesus,
Look, “Snakes on a Plane”.
I am a poor boy too,
with “Snakes on a Plane”.
I have no gift to bring,
‘cept “Snakes on a Plane”.
That’s fit to give our king,
‘cept “Snakes on a Plane”,
“Snakes on a Plane”,
“Snakes on a Plane”.
Shall I play for you
Some “Snakes on a Plane”?
“Snakes on a Plane”.
My BRAIN. Give it BACK.
Or, for the last lines…
.
I am so tired of
These motherf***ing snakes
On this motherf***ing plane.