A Very Deadpool Christmas
By: Chris Akins
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, cause I shot every mouse.
My sword was attached to the door with care,
In hopes that carolers would be sliced in half there.
My magnum was nestled all snug in my bed,
With visions of bullets going through the next target’s head.
And I in my signed Bea Arthur snuggie and cap,
Was waiting for the gunshot in my brain to heal in my nap.
When on my lawn, the security mines went off with a clatter,
I grabbed my 50 cal. to turn the intruder into mushy batter.
Toward the window, my gun fired with a flash,
Broken glass flew at me leaving in my eye, a gash.
And as I healed up, I looked out the window,
To find all my mines tripped by a squirrel in the snow.
When, what to my ungashed eyes should appear,
But an unidentified flying object pulled by reindeer.
With an obese driver whose license plate said St Nick,
In order to dodge my RPG, he’d have to be quick.
More rapid than chimichanga cramps, at him the rocket came,
Then he whistled and shouted at the reindeer by name!
“Now Dasher! Now Dancer! Now Prancer and Vixen!
Evasive maneuvers Cupid, Donner, and Blitzen!
Just like in the Middle East where like rain the bullets would fall!
Now dash away from the rocket! Dash away all!”
Showing a lot of pep for a fat man in the sky,
He evaded the rocket like a swatter-fearing fly.
And up over the top of the Dead Hut he flew,
Where I had a surprise waiting for him there too.
My land-to-air missiles fired from the roof,
And apparently the sleigh wasn’t bomb-proof.
Hearing a crack above me, I quickly turned around,
Crashing through the ceiling, St Nicholas fell with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur from his head to his toes,
So I made a not to alert PETA of his choice in clothes.
From the bundle of toy he had on his back,
He tried to escape with a lucky child’s jetpack.
He weighed too much for the pack to carry,
And all of a sudden, he wasn’t so merry.
Next he pulled out arrows and a crossbow,
Whatever child is getting that, I’d like to know!
Aiming the bow, he gritted his teeth,
And away went the arrow, my face becoming its sheath.
His face turned pale and his jaw dropped to his belly,
As I pulled out the arrow with my brain hanging off like jelly.
He dropped to his knees, now as short as an elf,
And begged for his life as I laughed to myself.
My look toward his bag and a nod of my head,
Let him know what I wanted with no words said.
He got up from his knees and went straight to work,
Unloading every present while watching me smirk.
Glaring at me, without his customary “Ho ho ho’s”
He flipped me off and up the ceiling he rose.
Playing with my new toys, I began to whistle,
As St Nick flew off like a missile.
But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight,
“No more Christmas at all, this is the last night!”
Chris Akins is a writer for Nerdism Comics, and d id proabably the kid who would've got that set of arrows and a crossbow from Santa. Dammit. You can write to him at Nerdismcomics@yahoo.com
