[DL] Merry Christmas Deadlands

["Brom Clancy" <spleen23@webtrolls.com>]

'Twas the night before Christmas, and in the Whatley home
Not a creature was stirring, not even the possessed tome;
Brother Saul was bound in the attic with care,
In hopes that Nichodemus soon would be there;

The family were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of the necronomicon danced in their heads;
With Whilhelmina in her coffin, takeing a dirt nap,
I had just settled down to wait for the new guy in charge chap,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I stepped through the shadows,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the window 
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of the grave to objects below,
When, what to my fearfull eyes see in dread,
But a black hearse, and eight walking dead,

With a little old driver, so denomic and quick,
I knew in a moment he was comeing for Nic.
More rapid than ghouls his servents they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;  

"Now Basil, now Ezekial! now Silus and Cletus!
On, Humprey! on Lilith! and the brothers McCrakin!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now kill them! kill them! kill them all!"

As dry corpses that before the flamethrower fry,
When they meet with an obstacle, howl to the sky,
So up to the front door the undead they flew,
With bellies full of hate, and a hankerin' for whatley stew.

And then, in a clatter, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of a cloven hoof.
As I drew out a gun, and was turning about,
Down the chimney Nichodemus came with a shout.

He was dressed all in black, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with blood and soot;
A bundle of bones he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a madman just opening his pack.

His eyes -- how they burned! his smile how scary!
His cheeks were all hallow, his chin was quite hairy!
His evil little mouth was drawn up like a knave's,
And the beard of his chin was as sharp as a blade;

The stump of a cigar he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a funeral wreath;
He had a thin face and a little gaunt gut,
That shook, when he laughed like it had begun to rot.
He was pale and shivering, a horrible sight,
And I shivered when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a fan of his deck,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the room with a black cloudy mirk,
And extending his finger from the back of his fist,
And giving a nod, he waved me dismissed;

He sprang to the door, to the dead gave a whistle,
And away they all flew at the sight of his pistol.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove then out of sight,
"NOT ON CHRISMAS, COME BACK ANOTHER NIGHT"