Just a little bit for my buddies here:
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the Patriarchy
Not an enemy creature was stirring, no domestic anarchy;
The patrols were deployed on the border with care,
In hopes that a foolish Klingon or Lyran would enter the Kzin lair;
The kits were nestled all snug in their beds;
While visions of feddie-fingers danced in their heads;
And Gook in his singlemalt, and Soreyes in his nightcap,
Had just settled their brains for a long catnap,
When out of the homeworld there arose such a clatter,
I sprang to communications to see what was the matter.
Away to the sensors I flew like a flash,
Tore open the panels and drew up the cache.
The moon on the breast of the new-meteor show,
Gave a lustre of midday to objects below,
When what to my feline eyes did appear,
But a miniature CVA and eight strippers costumed as deer,
With a fat white Kzin driver so reeking of sin,
I knew in a moment he must be KAT J'inn.
More rapid than fast drones his coursers they came,
And he cursed, and bellowed, and called them by name:
"Now, Sapphire! now, Diamond! now Vixen and Pixie!
On, Satin! on, Venus! on, Honey and Trixie!
To the top of the Pylon! to the top of the Station!
Now grind away! grind away! grind in gyration!"
As atoms that before the wild solar wind fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the Command post to the dancers they flew
With the sleigh full of sex toys, and Kat J'inn too—
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the ceiling
The dancing and gigles at J'inns attempted feeling.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the turbolift J'inn came with all 900 pounds.
He was coated in white fur, from his head to his foot,
But dirty and tarnished with liquor and cigar soot;
A couple of girls had clung to his his back,
And he looked like a pimp or a dealer of crack.
His eyes—how they twinkled! his whiskers, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a stogie his teeth held tightly like thorns,
And the smoke, it encircled his head like two devil horns;
He had a broad face and a huge round belly
That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old cat,
And I laughed when I saw him, and said gee J'inn you're fat!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon made me realize my wallet was about to be bled;
He then gave the word, calling the dancers to work,
They stripped down to their stockings; as they turned with a twerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And up a 1000 credit note some white powder rose;
Then he sprang to his CVA, to his girls gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like a type IV missile.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight—
“Happy Christmas to all, The Riverboat will be open all night!”
Topic: A Viist from St. J'inn (Read 11423 times)