(My only defense is that I've eaten WAY too much chocolate.)
Hmmmm...my apologies to Clement Clarke Moore...
'Twas the night before GateCon
And all through the hotel
Not a creature was stirring
Not even the Jaffa, Mo'tel
Everyone's fingers were crossed (with care)
In hopes that St. Rick would soon appear there
The fans were nestled all snug in their beds
While visions of naked Jack danced in their heads
And Kate in her kerchief, and Lynn in her cap
Had just settled down for a short fans nap,
When out on in the hall there arose such a clatter,
Fans sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the door they flew like a flash,
Tore open the door and tied their bathrobe's sash.
The exit sign light reflected in the hall
Gave the lustre of twilight at the mall,
When, what to their wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature alkesh, and eight tiny Jaffa deer,
With a gorgeous young driver, so lively and quick,
They knew in a moment it must be St. Rick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Anise! now, Daniel! now, Hammond and (Jacob) Carter!
On, Maybourne! on Martouf! on, Makepeace and (Sam) Carter!
To the top of the stairs! to the top of the them all!
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 dealers room the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of photos, and St. Ricky Dean too.
And then, in a twinkling, they heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As the fans withdrew from the door, and were turning around,
Down the hall St. Ricky Dean came with a bound.
He was dressed all in leather, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all clingy and tight -- what a hoot;
A sack of pics he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the eyebrow scar was as white as the snow;
The stem of a rose he held tight in his teeth,
And the leaves encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a strong face and a broad shoulders,
That looked like they could carry the weight of a boulder.
He was tall and slender, a handsome sight,
And fans when they saw him, smiled in delight;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave fans to know they wouldn't miss bed;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the rooms with photos; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the hall he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Gatecon to all, and to all a good-night."
********
Morjana
Hmmmm...my apologies to Clement Clarke Moore...
'Twas the night before GateCon
And all through the hotel
Not a creature was stirring
Not even the Jaffa, Mo'tel
Everyone's fingers were crossed (with care)
In hopes that St. Rick would soon appear there
The fans were nestled all snug in their beds
While visions of naked Jack danced in their heads
And Kate in her kerchief, and Lynn in her cap
Had just settled down for a short fans nap,
When out on in the hall there arose such a clatter,
Fans sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the door they flew like a flash,
Tore open the door and tied their bathrobe's sash.
The exit sign light reflected in the hall
Gave the lustre of twilight at the mall,
When, what to their wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature alkesh, and eight tiny Jaffa deer,
With a gorgeous young driver, so lively and quick,
They knew in a moment it must be St. Rick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Anise! now, Daniel! now, Hammond and (Jacob) Carter!
On, Maybourne! on Martouf! on, Makepeace and (Sam) Carter!
To the top of the stairs! to the top of the them all!
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 dealers room the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of photos, and St. Ricky Dean too.
And then, in a twinkling, they heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As the fans withdrew from the door, and were turning around,
Down the hall St. Ricky Dean came with a bound.
He was dressed all in leather, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all clingy and tight -- what a hoot;
A sack of pics he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the eyebrow scar was as white as the snow;
The stem of a rose he held tight in his teeth,
And the leaves encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a strong face and a broad shoulders,
That looked like they could carry the weight of a boulder.
He was tall and slender, a handsome sight,
And fans when they saw him, smiled in delight;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave fans to know they wouldn't miss bed;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the rooms with photos; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the hall he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Gatecon to all, and to all a good-night."
********
Morjana
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