A funny collection of Twas The Night Before Christmas parodies
| A Blue Christmas for Elvis
Posted to alt.guitar.amps by Lord Valve (firstname.lastname@example.org) on 2001-12-23.
'Twas the night before Christmas and all 'round the house,
Lurched Elvis Paisley, drunk as a louse.
His tools were tossed near the bench without care,
And he sat there transfixed by his monitor's glare.
The amps were all burning, tubes turning red,
As paranoid visions danced through his head;
Ignoring the arcing and sparking and smoke,
He logged onto UseNet and started to toke.
As soon as the weed permeated his brain,
His one lonely neuron was showing the strain,
And he huffed and he puffed and he grimaced in pain
And he marshalled his minions and called them by name:
"On Timepix, on Cooper (I don't care which one)
We must fight the Vlave, he must be undone!"
And steadfast as Rommel, that gnarly old Hun,
Sallied foolishly forth, an Army of One.
His minions were useless; stagnant and tame,
The best they could manage were recycled flames
And he cursed and he howled and retreated in shame,
And he vowed he would write some new rules for the game.
"I'll call him a whore, I'll shorten his dick!
I'll drench him with smegma 'til everyone's sick!
I'll call him a redneck, an ignorant hick!
A gun-toting asshole Republican prick!"
From His throne up on high, as ruler of Earth,
Lord Valve did but smile, enjoying His mirth;
And waves of amusement encircled His girth
As He laughed down at Elvis, belittling his worth:
"Come now, junior, you know that's not true;
An output stage as unbalanced as you
Would sound just like crap, and sparks it would spew,
Sonic Slaughterhouse customers - terribly few!"
Elvis scampered and whimpered and beat a retreat,
Leaving large slimy tracks shaped like fat baboon feet
And we heard him exclaim as he ran down the street,
"Piss on you, Vlave, my ass is mincemeat!"
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