Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the boat
The aliens were worried, will this thing even float.
Their brain probes were hung from the mast step with care
In hopes that Jen number 2 would soon be there.
But Jen 2 was nestled, all snug in her bed
While visions of running barefoot through the woods danced in her head.
With Jen in her nighty and me trying to sneak a peek
I could hear the aliens shuffling, all trying to sneak.
When out of the galley I heard a loud smash
I sprang from my bed, to the ladder, and flung open the hatch.
I entered the cockpit and I grabbed the spear gun,
Knowing that the battle to come would not be fun.
I leaped down the galley stairs and what should appear,
But the big eyed gray suckers, without any ears.
I immediately felt the singe of their paralyzing ray
And felt a cold clammy hand pulling me to lay.
But before I lost consciousness, I loaded my spear gun,
And took the sub leader out, the rest all looked stunned.
I spied the true leader, he moved really quick,
I knew in an instant it must be St Nick.
Now wait I thought, this must be a dream,
St Nick isn’t an alien, or so it would seem.
But there he was with his anal probe in hand,
Waiting for me to mistakenly bend over, but that’s not the plan.
I leapt to the V-birth, flare gun in hand,
Looking for the flares tucked under the bedstand.
When it hit me in the butt, I could barely speak or whisper,
Damn anal probe deployed into my sphincter.
I heard him calling, come onx, come grak, come blue, come grare,
As I turned and blasted the leader with a magnesium flare.
The others then ran up the ladder and out,
To the top of the mast waiting for the mothership to exfil them out.
One last flare and the deed was all done,
Another alien BBQ, yes I had won.
Tired and wounded I slipped down to my bed,
There laid Jen, sleeping like she was dead.
She will never believe that St Nick was really here,
Or what I did to insure she is here for Christmas cheer.
But as I slipped into my bed and tried to cop a peek,
I remember what Christmas is all about, all our barefoot freeps,
And I thank the heavens for my life here with you all,
Well, except for the alien butt probe……as you already know.
Which I shall show Jen in the morning, as she calls me a liar,
My life will be complete from frying pan into the fire.
And I remind you to be careful and on your laurels not rest,
Beware of St Nicholas and his other gray guests.
The aliens were worried, will this thing even float.
Their brain probes were hung from the mast step with care
In hopes that Jen number 2 would soon be there.
But Jen 2 was nestled, all snug in her bed
While visions of running barefoot through the woods danced in her head.
With Jen in her nighty and me trying to sneak a peek
I could hear the aliens shuffling, all trying to sneak.
When out of the galley I heard a loud smash
I sprang from my bed, to the ladder, and flung open the hatch.
I entered the cockpit and I grabbed the spear gun,
Knowing that the battle to come would not be fun.
I leaped down the galley stairs and what should appear,
But the big eyed gray suckers, without any ears.
I immediately felt the singe of their paralyzing ray
And felt a cold clammy hand pulling me to lay.
But before I lost consciousness, I loaded my spear gun,
And took the sub leader out, the rest all looked stunned.
I spied the true leader, he moved really quick,
I knew in an instant it must be St Nick.
Now wait I thought, this must be a dream,
St Nick isn’t an alien, or so it would seem.
But there he was with his anal probe in hand,
Waiting for me to mistakenly bend over, but that’s not the plan.
I leapt to the V-birth, flare gun in hand,
Looking for the flares tucked under the bedstand.
When it hit me in the butt, I could barely speak or whisper,
Damn anal probe deployed into my sphincter.
I heard him calling, come onx, come grak, come blue, come grare,
As I turned and blasted the leader with a magnesium flare.
The others then ran up the ladder and out,
To the top of the mast waiting for the mothership to exfil them out.
One last flare and the deed was all done,
Another alien BBQ, yes I had won.
Tired and wounded I slipped down to my bed,
There laid Jen, sleeping like she was dead.
She will never believe that St Nick was really here,
Or what I did to insure she is here for Christmas cheer.
But as I slipped into my bed and tried to cop a peek,
I remember what Christmas is all about, all our barefoot freeps,
And I thank the heavens for my life here with you all,
Well, except for the alien butt probe……as you already know.
Which I shall show Jen in the morning, as she calls me a liar,
My life will be complete from frying pan into the fire.
And I remind you to be careful and on your laurels not rest,
Beware of St Nicholas and his other gray guests.
