Tater's Xmas

With Apologies to Clement Moore, H.P. Lovecraft, Chaosium, George Lucas and anyone else who might look askance at my verse….

	Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the store Not a creature was stirring, good, because Mike had locked the door, The customers all gone, the shelves hopefully bare, Mike was not here, a day off….quiet rare,
	After playing some Civ 4, it was time for bed, Stupid Sid Meier, the AI is always ahead. Without a nice blanket, I have to use just my cape, What would be nice is some vino, a touch of the grape,
	When out in the lot there arose such a roar, I sprang from the bed yelling “Pancho’s is no more!”. Away to the window I flew like a flash, Hoping for some customers with cash.
	The moon on the breast of the new-melted snow Gave the lustre of mud to objects below. When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a miniature sleigh, pulled by things so queer.
	With a little old driver, so squamous and slick, I knew in a moment it couldn’t be Saint Nick. More rapid than eagles his coursers they came, And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
	"Now Azazoth! now, Shub-Niggurath! now, Go-Migo and Shoggoth! On, Gug! On, Deep One! on, on Ithaqua and Hound of Tindalos! To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall! Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"
	As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky. So up to the store-top the coursers they flew, With the sleigh full of unspeakable things and Cthulhu too.
	And then, in a twinkling, I heard and saw The prancing and pawing of each mad claw. As I drew in my head, and was turning around, Down the A/C it came with a bound.
	He was dressed all in plush, from his head to his toes, Obviously something man was not meant to know. A bundle of things he had flung on his back, And he looked like a nightmare with no turning back.
	Strange images and horrible smells assailed me, I found myself surrounded by non-euclidean geometry! Gasping for air, like a caught fish, I could do nothing but scream gibberish!
	When I looked up with bloodshot eyes and dazed mind, I saw the apparition held up a sign. “Please say Hastur three times!” I kept quiet, avoiding that unspeakable crime.
	I cried “What do you want you unspeakable thing, What menace what madness do you bring?” He said “I seek naught, but to spread good Christmas Cheer!” “Yeah, right”, I replied, “Get out of here!”
	“Darkness you bring, destruction you wish. You are a bad dude. And this from a Sith!” He ignored my claims, his head he did twist, Hearing the chants (“Ia Ia”) of his cultists.
	A malicious glint in his eye, And with a leering grin. The freakish thing took off without a hitch. I ran fast behind, “Bring back my hat you little son-of-a-b***h!”