User Info: UserNameIsOP UserNameIsOP 9 years ago #1

and all through 2fort

not a creature was stirring

especially not the ps3 port.

The bonk was placed

by the sandvich with care

in hopes that no heavies

would soon be there.

The classes were nustled

all snug in their beds

while visions of unus. hats

danced in their heads.

And admin. in her suit

and I in my Mann co. cap

had just settled down

for a long winners nap,

when out on the bridge

arose such a clatter

I sprang from the bed

to see what was the matter.

Away to the battlements

I flew like a flash.

I rose up my head

and threw off the stash.

The moon on the breast

of the new-fallen snow

gave the lustre of mid-battle

to the water below.

When, what to my wondering

eyes should appear

but a miniature truck,

and eight tiny cows, dear.

With a little old driver

so lively and stout

I knew in a moment,

it must be RED Scout,

And he whistled and shouted

and called them by name,

"Now, Heavy! Now Soldier!

Now, Sniper and Pyro!

On Medic! On Engie!

On Spy and Demo!

To the top of the fort!

To the top of the walls!

Now dash away! Dash away!

Dash away all!"

As intel papers that before

the wild battles fly,

when they meet with an obstacle

mount to the sky.

So up to the fort-top

the fighters, they flew

with the boxes of items

and RED Scout too.

And then, in a twinkling

I heard on the roost,

the clanking and clunking

of each little boot.

As I drew in my head

and was turning around

down the chimney

RED Scout came with a bound.

He was dressed in red

from his head to his foot,

and his clothes were all tarnished

with Pyro-caused-soot.

A bundle of crates

He had flung on his back,

and he looked like a shopowner,

just opening his pack.

His eyes-How they twinkled!

His dimples how merry!

His cheeks were like roses,

His nose like a cherry!

His big talking mouth was

drawn up like a bow,

and his eyes in his skull

were as white as the snow.

The stump of a pancake

he held tight in his teeth,

and the syrup it encircled,

his mouth like a wreath.

He had a small face,

and a flat little stomach

that stayed when he laughed,

like a bowlful of bricks.

He was skinny and strong,

a right jolly young elf,

and I laughed when I saw him,

in spite of my self.

A wink of his eye,

and a twist of my head

soon made me feel

nothing but dread.

He spoke not a word,

but went straight to his bunk,

and took all the medkits,

man, what a punk.

And laying his head

down ontop of his pillow

and giving a nod,

to dreamland he goes.

He sprang up in bed,

to his team gave a whistle,

and awake they all rose,

like the sound of a missile,

but I( heard him exclaim

as I bled out that night,

"Merry Christmas, dumbass,

Hope you're ready to fight!"



On a scale of 1 to 10, how bad was it? ~UNIOP

i eat chips and sandwiches Twas the night before christmasand all through 2fortnot a creature was stirringespecially not the ps3 port.The bonk was placedby the sandvich with carein hopes that no heavieswould soon be there.The classes were nustledall snug in their bedswhile visions of unus. hatsdanced in their heads.And admin. in her suitand I in my Mann co. caphad just settled downfor a long winners nap,when out on the bridgearose such a clatterI sprang from the bedto see what was the matter.Away to the battlementsI flew like a flash.I rose up my headand threw off the stash.The moon on the breastof the new-fallen snowgave the lustre of mid-battleto the water below.When, what to my wonderingeyes should appearbut a miniature truck,and eight tiny cows, dear.With a little old driverso lively and stoutI knew in a moment,it must be RED Scout,And he whistled and shoutedand called them by name,"Now, Heavy! Now Soldier!Now, Sniper and Pyro!On Medic! On Engie!On Spy and Demo!To the top of the fort!To the top of the walls!Now dash away! Dash away!Dash away all!"As intel papers that beforethe wild battles fly,when they meet with an obstaclemount to the sky.So up to the fort-topthe fighters, they flewwith the boxes of itemsand RED Scout too.And then, in a twinklingI heard on the roost,the clanking and clunkingof each little boot.As I drew in my headand was turning arounddown the chimneyRED Scout came with a bound.He was dressed in redfrom his head to his foot,and his clothes were all tarnishedwith Pyro-caused-soot.A bundle of cratesHe had flung on his back,and he looked like a shopowner,just opening his pack.His eyes-How they twinkled!His dimples how merry!His cheeks were like roses,His nose like a cherry!His big talking mouth wasdrawn up like a bow,and his eyes in his skullwere as white as the snow.The stump of a pancakehe held tight in his teeth,and the syrup it encircled,his mouth like a wreath.He had a small face,and a flat little stomachthat stayed when he laughed,like a bowlful of bricks.He was skinny and strong,a right jolly young elf,and I laughed when I saw him,in spite of my self.A wink of his eye,and a twist of my headsoon made me feelnothing but dread.He spoke not a word,but went straight to his bunk,and took all the medkits,man, what a punk.And laying his headdown ontop of his pillowand giving a nod,to dreamland he goes.He sprang up in bed,to his team gave a whistle,and awake they all rose,like the sound of a missile,but I( heard him exclaimas I bled out that night,"Merry Christmas, dumbass,Hope you're ready to fight!"On a scale of 1 to 10, how bad was it?