Even christmas carols are not safe from deathbombing

Twas the night before Writemas, when all through the thread
Not a OC was stirring, wuten was dead.
Sonic boom was hung by the chimney, And with care,
a Sign saying Betty Spaghetti was here.

The Writefags were posting despite that no one cared.
When Out came a russtlin , no jimmies were spared
And Aether in his ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Were definitely not ready for any of this crap.

When out on the thread there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see Mrs. Cake was fatter.
Away to the pastebin I clicked like a flash,
Tore open the stories and read the porn stash.

Leucine posted more "for the sake of a lady"
My penis now hard was now quite fap ready.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But Sorcanon's Thousand sons updated they cheer!

Chronicler too had Lich entertain
till a few newfags about Lich did complain.
More rapid than eagles his course he did choose
to quit until he heard quite a few reader's boos!

"Now Scooter! now, Tyko! now, Pale and lolpuuchu.
They rallied and vented till their point came through!
"We love your work Chron, So Please do not leave us all!
Now Listen, do listen to the ANONS' Call."

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to Betty Spaghetti they went,
and in all of their hands was steel and flint.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
A shit ton of clop gone in a poof.
As I drew out my glock, and was turning around,
Down the chimney was warforged ready to pound.

He was dressed all in cheese, from his head to his foot,
As this silly writer wrote with aether's  favorite root.
A bundle of hammers, he had on his back
And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.

Aether Came abound looking for his rush
when spike popped out with some skywalker kush!
they both took a hit and all they could see,
was a werewolf alpha singing the prince and me..


The stump of a pipe they both shared underneath,
All the smoke had encircled their heads like a wreath.
Wuten was back, turns out his corpse was spaghetti,
And Sonic Boom was a sack filled with loads of jelly!

Pale arrived with narrations oh so a plenty
While the loch ness monster asked him for tree fiddy,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!
My handiwork done, Chrons Phylactery on the shelf.

He spoke not a word, Chron was fidgeting like a wreck,
As I started playing songs from the anime Beck.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And hurling doom blades all were his foes!!

He sprang to his vial, to the dead gave a whistle,
And Up rose Tsarroman, Dashie and a Handogate's thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, as he meld out of sight,
"Go buck yourselves, and to me a good-night!"