Not a Halfling was stirring, not even to grouse;
(Because they were all killed in the great purge of October, frigging dirty Halflings.)
The gnome hats were hung by the chimney with ease,
And St. Nick would fill them with gifts, else we’d break his knees;
(Listen, we can’t really reach any higher and kneecapping is a time honored Gnome Christmas tradition. )
All 10 Gnomes were nestled snug up in their beds,
Phil had the night’s Fiasco with the other games stacked,
(Fiasco is a great game that Phil reviewed waaay back in March)
Then out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my hammock to see who was about to get splattered.
(You wake a drunk Gnome up at 3 in the AM and see what happens to you!)
Off to the window I ran in a dash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
(Seriously, a sash? Who calls it that? They are the most common modern window around! I don’t care it the poem I’m plagiarizing . . . parodying was written back in 1823!)
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
(Awwww crap! I forgot I had light sensitivity because I’m a gnome of the Underdark. That’s like a –2 penalty right there!)
When, what to my light dazzled eyes should appear,
But Santa Claus, with OGTv2 and a 6 pack of beer,
(Many of the Gnomes had articles in OGTv2 and OGTv1, alongside many other awesome articles from other blogs. Well worth the read. )
Sneaking out with Walt’s copy of Eureka in tow,
I avoided the hot button so that no-one would know,
(I didn’t actually steal Walt’s copy, I just said I did because he hasn’t been mentioned yet and it was a good way to segue into our hot button articles.)
Rather than make it a one on one trade;
I threw the Eureka like a cheesy 80’s movie take on a glaive;
(Ok, I’m now regretting deciding to do one of these italicized asides every second line. Thank Gnomemness I didn’t decide to make them rhyme! )
And knocking him out, I picked up the snowy, bloody book,
Then realized I’d be deep in trouble if anyone had looked,
(I didn’t really fear knocking out or killing the big red jolly one, just that Martin would be pissed if I damaged a sellable copy of Eureka. By the way, you should go get it while it is on sale.)
Having sidestepped the danger with a shameless plug,
Upon my canvas pocketed Kilt I felt a strange tug,
(What, of course I’d wear my kilt out on the snow. What? Of course I’m kilted right now. )
It was Gnome Scott Martin who could not be ignored,
without a mention of his new venture, Crazy Squirrel Game Store;
(Scott didn’t actually ask for anything., I’m just looking for any link I can, and if that means smearing the good name of a fellow Gnome and killing Santa Claus, then so be it!)
I realized it wouldn’t be long before other gnomes were awakened,
And proceeded to plan an escape most emblazoned!
(Yes, the use of the word is actually going to take us somewhere, it’s not just there because it rhymes… kind of.)
On the ground I proceeded to carve directions pristeen,
Realizing I’d yet to mention some gnomes kind of vaugely,
I made a rather bad reference to Gnome Matthew Neagely.
(For everything in this article, I sincerely apologize to the world of poetry and writing at large. And yet I’ve got no shame, so I’m gonna keep going for a few more lines.)
Seeing the pain that my word-smithing was causing,
I hid in Troy’s crock pot to avoid angry fans gnome tossing.
(Unrelated fact to anything, Gnome friend Chatty DM just had an adventure published in a collection titled “From There To Here”, and it is a great little adventure. Expect a review sometime soon.)
Knowing that I would be in trouble too,
I distracted them with a link NSFW.
(Seriously, if you clicked on that this time you can’t complain, you were warned.)
Having distracted and enraged them only further,
I knew of only one option to quiet their furor.
(Find a witty comment from page XX and insert it here.)
I slipped into the room of sleeping Chief Gnome Ralya,
With furious fans nipping close to my heels, I noticed a jar marked medical Salvia!(Ok, seriously, you rhyme something with Ralya without it sounding cheesy as hell!)
Lighting it on fire, I grabbed my handy Gnomish Gas Mask,
From the pocket of my kilt where I keep my Jameson flask,
(By this point, I’m assuming I’ve already lost the respect of most of you. If I haven’t, then I might suggest you check out this link as it might redeem me. This one is safe for work.)
Rushing to action, I lit the Salvia with glee,
and watched smoke make the mob laugh like Miley.
(Ok, John, the men in the white coats are here. Time to wrap it up and go along nicely.)
Jumping away through the small window pane,
I sought my escape and called them by name,
With well practiced word I summoned away,
And called forth my getaway steampunk sleigh!
“Come Gygax! Come Laws! Come Arneson! Come Tweet!
On Hickman, And Jackson, and Wyatt, and Cooke!
And many other people who have written roleplaying books!”
Take me away and help me make bail,
cause this Gnomes way too pretty to make it in Jail!
And I finally exclaimed when I was well out of sight,
"Happy Gnomemas to all, I know this was not right."
As a “special” “bonus,” no expense was spared in producing this dramatic reading of “‘Twas the Gnome Before Christmas.” Hours of preparation, dozens of takes, thousands spent on a teleprompter, three years growing the beard…
Please accept my deepest apologies, and Merry Christmas! -MR