'Twas a night in September (based on "'Twas the Night Before Christmas" by Clement Clarke Moore). Verses by Lao.

'Twas a night in September, when all through the ranch,

Not a monster was stirring, not a Mock or its branch.

The stars brightly shone in the sky and we dared

To camp out in hopes that an alien we'd scare;

The monsters were sleeping all snug in their stable,

We'd just finished eating, and Joy cleared the table;

Then Colt in her pup-tent, and I in my wrap,

Settled in for the stake-out, and tried not to nap.

When just as we thought things could not get more boring,

Master Pabs was awakened, by his own crazy snoring.

We all had a giggle, Pabs called Colt a fool,

But when he had stopped listening, she called him a tool.

When laughter had finally ceased to infect,

A whirring was heard, in the sky, to our left.

When suddenly, what to our eyes should appear?

But the alien ship, with its lights, blue and clear.

As it flew through the sky it did jiggle and jaggle,

And it so surprised Joy that her tail-feathers waggled.

As quick as our blinking it landed nearby,

It was big as our house, and now down from the sky!

Master Pabs ran around, screaming "RIOT! INVASION!"

But before long calmed down, after lots of persuasion.

Then stunned by a bright light that blinded us all,

We saw (after dimming) that the ship had grow small!

It grew arms, It grew legs, and bewildered expression,

And proceeded to ask of us obscure directions.

It was looking for cohorts it had long left behind,

And it made rude remarks 'bout the size of our minds.

Master Pabs was disturbed (and became very blue),

Until glancing at Colt, he decided 'twas true.

We established a parley, and 'fore long were told,

That they had left disc chips, in ages thought old.

They were shocked that we hadn't heard tell of their folk,

They had left us a crystal, to unlock their yolks.

Then as oft was his habit, Old Pabs he orated;

We yawned and rolled eyes, as he ceaselessly prated.

He told us a story, now thought quite unlikely,

Of a metalloid people, who had dropped off a shrine-key.

It was blue, it was lighted, and its use was a quirk,

It was later abandoned, the darn thing didn't work!

It was thrown in a closet, and it long gathered dust,

'Til amid an upheaval, by some chance it got bust.

The Metalner listened, and scoffed he anew,

And marveled and wondered at our backwardness too.

He chided our dullness, rebuked our sad station,

And declared our stupidity, in loud proclamation!

We were angry, it's true, at this self-proclaimed god,

But we figured it best to just smile and nod.

Forebearance went well with our alien friend,

And superior being, our crisis did end.

It reached in its body (Pabs went for his pistol),

And pleasantly smiled, as it brought forth a crystal!

He gave it to Colt (while Pabs put back his gun),

Then went on to explain that his people were fun.

Then obviously making a really lame joke,

He gave us the Idiot's Guide to his folk.

After taking his leave, and then blinding us twice,

He grew again bigger and was gone in a trice.

But we heard his loud voice as he winked out of sight,

Screaming, "IDIOT HUMANS, THIS TIME GET IT RIGHT!!"

Happy Holidays. ;)

-- Lao (darklao@hotmail.com), December 17, 1999

Answers

Nice poem! I liked it.

-- Miss Carrie (musicality1@earthlink.net), December 17, 1999.

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I wonder if anyones feelings on Metalners will change after they read this poem? LOL Anyways, I like your poem! :-)

-- Mystic Fire (mystic-fire@angelfire.com), December 17, 1999.

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Another masterpiece Lao! Anyone who likes this should check out his "Ode to Nagas". It's a riot:)

-- Dark Phoenix (Arax7@aol.com), December 17, 1999.

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My complements! "That was the moest soupercadjafradjalisticispialladocious I have ever heard!"

-- Blake (Blake_05@excite.com), December 19, 1999.

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I must say, you have quite the creative side to you. We can always count on you to put a "twist" into our monster ranching experience.

-- RNA (RNA@Ribosome.nuc), December 19, 1999.

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Yea! That was wonderful! I haven't laughed that hard in a long time. Everyone here at work now thinks I am insane, and reading them the poem hasn't helped, but it is still wonderful! Thank You.

-Berge (Merry Christmas everyone! ^_^ )

-- Berge (rellis@bigidea.com), December 21, 1999.


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This kicks @$$!!

-- mr. ziplock (nightdragon@angelfire.com), January 14, 2000.

That makes me despise metalners even more. Funny though. Maybe Pabs should have shot the metalner. be seein' ya