T'was the spliff before Christmas
And all through the hut
not a medic was stirring
not even a...dude, wait. What?
The Javelin's were hung by the grumps with care,
In hopes that St. Grump-a-lot soon would be there.
The Ruskies were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of dog-tags blooped in their heads.
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
She offered me brains for a long winter’s nap.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a squad of 4 dudes, and 4 more to their rear.
With a little old tank, so lively and quick,
I said "FUHGEDDABOUDIT! Continue slobbing... Oh Hai Nick!".
More rapid than eagles, their teammates they came,
By ATV. By silk, and boat, and even by plane!
"Now Foxtrot! now, Alpha! now, Whiskey and Vixen!
On, Delta! On, Tango! Hold up...Did he really say Vixen?
To the top of the warehouse! to the top of the wall!
Now blow away! Blow away! Demolish it all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, It's now dust in the eye.
So up to the house-top the mavericks they flew,
With the APC full of Toys, and St Grump-a-lot too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The "beep-beep." of A T-UGS. A recon's aloof.
As I drew my pistola, and was turning around,
Through the west wall, St Grump-a-lot came with a bound.
He was dressed all in leaves, tarnished with ashes and soot,
And his clothes were hella funky. Smelled like hot garbage and foot.
A bundle of rockets he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.
His eyes-how they burned! his dimples non existent!
His cheeks were all bunched up! His mumbling, so distant.
His ragged little mouth was drawn up in a frown,
And then he went limp someone put his ass down!
The ring of a 'nade he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a pale face, blood leaked from his belly,
His insides spilled out like a bowlful of jelly!
In the dark of the corner, I thought I saw an elf,
And I laughed when I finally saw him, in spite of myself!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And sprayed all the enemies, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all use your mic!"
Happy Christmas! In the spirit of BF3 players from all round. Happy Christmas all and a safe and fulfilling New Year!
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