Twas da night before Christmas, I was makin' some zombies
when from da upstairs came my good Cousin Donnie.
He said with concern, "Boss, I heard a strange noise."
I nodded and said, "Go round up da boys."
We cased da whole mansion, front yard and rear,
da cemetery and da crypt were both clear.
We checked out da dungeon and all of its halls,
we even went over to St. Peter and Paul's.
But it wasn't until our hushed return trip
that I discovered da thing that just didn't fit.
Da snow was still fallin' so I couldn't see clear,
but I swore, on my house there were tiny reindeer.
I cursed as I ran. My minions they came.
I sent in da wraiths to find out da game.
As we sprinted up closer I heard Donnie say,
"Boss! On the roof there's a miniature sleigh!"
"A sleigh," I said, "you can see that from here?
Then how about those eight fukin' reindeer?"
"Oh yeah, them too," he said with a shrug.
But that's what you get from a second rate thug.
We burst in house and onto da scene,
saw a strange lookin' fuk who wasn't too lean.
He was still by da chimney. He looked kinda stunned.
That may be because of da zombies with guns.
This old guy with beard and funny red suit
wasn't too dumb ^Ñcause he knew they would shoot.
He stood there quite stoic but looked kinda weak.
He didn't have weapons, so I started to speak,
"Who is this fat fuk? Why is he here?
Are you the asshole with the goddamn reindeer?"
I gestured to Donnie, "Who is this pinprick?"
"Don," he replied, "I think that's Saint Nick!"
"You're talkin' 'bout Santa? He doesn't exist.
He's just a kids' fable, a story, a myth."
I looked at him closer. His aura was queer.
I asked him directly, "Why are you here?"
He straightened his suit with an unsteady hand
and managed to mutter, "My sleigh had to land.
A runner had broken while on the last stop.
Yours was the very next closest rooftop."
"I see," I responded. "So you need a sled.
I think we might have one out back in the shed.
If we were to help, I'll throw in free labor,
and consider this all a personal favor."
He paused for a moment, then nodded his head.
We got right to work, even painted it red.
We hitched up his team and loaded da toys,
me and da zombies and all of the boys.
And when we had finished lending our aid
da favor I bargained was promptly repaid.
He shouted back to us while he flew out of sight,
"Merry Christmas to all, and fukin' good night!"
-Don Carmine Giovanni
Cleveland by Night