IK the Troll
06-13-2008, 01:51 AM
based on Clement Clark Moore's "The Night Before Christmas"
with apologies to anyone who really really liked it that way
T'was the night before IK'smas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, save a few tiny louse;
The children were hung by the chimney with care,
Some by their feet, and some by their hair.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
'Til nailed to the mantle by their toes and their heads;
A half pint of NyQuil, as a winter's night-cap,
I'd just settled down for a long winter's nap.
When up from the basement there arose such a splat,
I sprang from the bed, and yelled, "What the Hell's that?"
Away down the stairwell I tripped like a flash,
Tore open my lip and got a great gash.
The moon was distorted, reality wreck'd
I knew that the NyQuil had taken effect,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a big snotty troll, with a foul smelling sneer,
With a ghastly complexion, so putrid and sick,
I knew in a moment it must be ol' IK.
He stubbed his big toe, as closer he came,
And he cursed all his fathers, and called them by name;
"Damn, KYRKEN! damn, POOPIN! damn, REGIS! and ZITSEN!
Oh BURPIN! oh FARTEN! oh, GUANO! and NIXON!
My toes are too big, and my brain is too small!
Oooh damn you! Damn you! to Hell with you all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet to an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up the stairwell, to get out, I flew,
To get quite away from that man made of goo.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard from the stair
Him prancing and pawing and twisting his hair.
As I drew a daggar, and was turning around,
Out the stairwell ol' IK, alas, came with a bound.
He was covered with fur, from his head to his foot,
And his tusks were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of boys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like he wanted just one more fresh snack.
His eyes -- how they watered! his pimples how crusty!
His horns were all crooked, his clothes were all musty!
His big drooling mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin smelled just like yellow snow;
The stump of a leg he held tight in his teeth,
And the stench encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face, and a big lumpy bell-o,
That shook, when he farted, like three week old Jell-O.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old troll,
And I screamed when I saw him, and lost bladder control;
The squint of his eye and the twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had plenty to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
Ate all the children; then turned with a jerk,
And digging his finger way up in his nose,
And breaking great wind, up the chimney he rose;
He landed somewhere like a Patriot missile,
Where, no doubt he's a pain, like the thorns of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he flew out of sight,
"HAPPY IK'SMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD FRIGHT!"
with apologies to anyone who really really liked it that way
T'was the night before IK'smas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, save a few tiny louse;
The children were hung by the chimney with care,
Some by their feet, and some by their hair.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
'Til nailed to the mantle by their toes and their heads;
A half pint of NyQuil, as a winter's night-cap,
I'd just settled down for a long winter's nap.
When up from the basement there arose such a splat,
I sprang from the bed, and yelled, "What the Hell's that?"
Away down the stairwell I tripped like a flash,
Tore open my lip and got a great gash.
The moon was distorted, reality wreck'd
I knew that the NyQuil had taken effect,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a big snotty troll, with a foul smelling sneer,
With a ghastly complexion, so putrid and sick,
I knew in a moment it must be ol' IK.
He stubbed his big toe, as closer he came,
And he cursed all his fathers, and called them by name;
"Damn, KYRKEN! damn, POOPIN! damn, REGIS! and ZITSEN!
Oh BURPIN! oh FARTEN! oh, GUANO! and NIXON!
My toes are too big, and my brain is too small!
Oooh damn you! Damn you! to Hell with you all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet to an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up the stairwell, to get out, I flew,
To get quite away from that man made of goo.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard from the stair
Him prancing and pawing and twisting his hair.
As I drew a daggar, and was turning around,
Out the stairwell ol' IK, alas, came with a bound.
He was covered with fur, from his head to his foot,
And his tusks were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of boys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like he wanted just one more fresh snack.
His eyes -- how they watered! his pimples how crusty!
His horns were all crooked, his clothes were all musty!
His big drooling mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin smelled just like yellow snow;
The stump of a leg he held tight in his teeth,
And the stench encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face, and a big lumpy bell-o,
That shook, when he farted, like three week old Jell-O.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old troll,
And I screamed when I saw him, and lost bladder control;
The squint of his eye and the twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had plenty to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
Ate all the children; then turned with a jerk,
And digging his finger way up in his nose,
And breaking great wind, up the chimney he rose;
He landed somewhere like a Patriot missile,
Where, no doubt he's a pain, like the thorns of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he flew out of sight,
"HAPPY IK'SMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD FRIGHT!"