Twas the night before Shear Terror, when all through the server, not a monster was stirring, not even a gulper /
The lootbags were placed by Whitesprings with care, in hopes that three stars would soon be there /
The wastelanders were all nestled all snug in their shacks, while visions of xcell zoomed to the max/
And my brahmin in her feeder, and I in my mask, had just settled our two brains for a long nuclear winter nap /
When out on the golf course there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my sleeping bag to see what was the matter /
Away to my shattered window I flew like a flash, tore open the shutters and threw up the sash /
The moon, on the breast of the new fallen fallout, gave a luster of midday to my statues below /
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a set of X01 and eight tiny ragstag, with a little driver so lively and odd, I knew in a moment it must be The Todd. /
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came, and he whistled and shouted and called them by name /
"Now Slasher! Now Lancer! Now Mincer and Vixen! On Vomit! On Stupid! On Dumber and Blitz! To the top of the foundation, to the top of the wall, now dash away, dash away, dash away all!" /
As dry leaves that before the while shock wave fly, when they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky, so up to the camp the coursers they flew, with the sled full of quests, dailies, and Todd himself too /
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof the prancing and pawing of each dozen little hoof /
As I drew in my head, and was turning around, down the chimney Todd came with a bound. He was dressed in all canvas from his head to his foot, and his clothes were all tarnished with nylon and soot /
A bundle of DLC he had flung on his back, and he looked like a duper opening his sack /
His eyes – how they twinked! His dimples – how merry! His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry. His tight little mouth was drawn up like a book, and the smile he had above his chin truly had me shook /
The stump of a Bobblehead he held tightly in his teeth, and a cloud of mentat smoke circled his head like a wreath /
He had a broad face and charm he cooked, and when he laughed he demanded me to look /
He was skinny and sly, a right jolly old elf, and couldn't stop laughing at me in spite of himself /
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head gave me to know I had soon many bugs to dread /
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his labor, and updated all the games with Sheepsquatch and all sorts of content to savor /
He turned with a jerk, laying his his finger aside his nose, and giving a content nod up the chimney he rose /
He sprang to his power armor, to his squad he gave a whistle, and away they flew like the down of a thistle /
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out sight,
"MERRY SHEAR TERROR TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT!"
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© Post "T’Was The Night Before Shear Terror" for game Fallout.
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