K
ksimm
Guest
Twas the night before Half-Life 2 by ksimm
Twas the night before Half-Life 2, when all through the lab
Not a creature was stirring, not even a headcrab.
The stockings were hung by the reactor with care,
In hopes that Gordon Freeman soon would be there.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of zombies danced in their heads.
And me the fanboy, with a Half-Life 2 cap,
Had just settled down for a brief nap.
When out in the car park there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I sprung like a deer,
Tore open the shutters and shivered with fear.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave a radioctive hue to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear on the horizon,
But a bloody great sleigh, with eight creepy antlions.
With a tall shadowed figure who started to run,
I knew in a moment it must be Gordon!
More rapid than deagles his antlions came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them all lame!
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the roof-top the antlions flew,
With the sleigh full of copies of Half-Life 2.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the door.
The scraping and pounding of each little claw.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Gordon burst through the door with a thunderous sound.
He was dressed in a HEV suit, from his neck to his toe.
which was tarnished with blood and a chemical glow.
A bundle of headcrabs he had flung on his back,
The hero was hyper like he'd enabled a hack!
His eyes-how they sparkled! his crowbar so scary!
Something tells me he aint here for mince pie and sherry.
His mouth so fearsome, drawn up like a crossbow,
And the beard of his chin was as cool as they go.
He was tall and pumped, a right hero type.
And I cowered when I saw him, from all the storys and hype.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon let me know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to work,
And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his crowbar aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!
He sprang to his ride, to his antlions gave a nod.
And away they all flew like an angel from God.
But I heard him exclaim, as he flew out of sight.
"Happy Half-Life 2 to all, and put up a good fight!"
Twas the night before Half-Life 2, when all through the lab
Not a creature was stirring, not even a headcrab.
The stockings were hung by the reactor with care,
In hopes that Gordon Freeman soon would be there.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of zombies danced in their heads.
And me the fanboy, with a Half-Life 2 cap,
Had just settled down for a brief nap.
When out in the car park there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I sprung like a deer,
Tore open the shutters and shivered with fear.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave a radioctive hue to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear on the horizon,
But a bloody great sleigh, with eight creepy antlions.
With a tall shadowed figure who started to run,
I knew in a moment it must be Gordon!
More rapid than deagles his antlions came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them all lame!
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the roof-top the antlions flew,
With the sleigh full of copies of Half-Life 2.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the door.
The scraping and pounding of each little claw.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Gordon burst through the door with a thunderous sound.
He was dressed in a HEV suit, from his neck to his toe.
which was tarnished with blood and a chemical glow.
A bundle of headcrabs he had flung on his back,
The hero was hyper like he'd enabled a hack!
His eyes-how they sparkled! his crowbar so scary!
Something tells me he aint here for mince pie and sherry.
His mouth so fearsome, drawn up like a crossbow,
And the beard of his chin was as cool as they go.
He was tall and pumped, a right hero type.
And I cowered when I saw him, from all the storys and hype.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon let me know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to work,
And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his crowbar aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!
He sprang to his ride, to his antlions gave a nod.
And away they all flew like an angel from God.
But I heard him exclaim, as he flew out of sight.
"Happy Half-Life 2 to all, and put up a good fight!"
