'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the AWTF

Not a gamer was grinding, not even a dreN;

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,

In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;

The athletes were nestled all snug in their beds;

While visions of chicken dinners danced in their heads;

And Victor in his jersey, and Steve in his cap,

Had just settled their brand for a long winter's nap,

When out of LA there arose such a clatter,

They sprang from their bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the Alienware Monitor they flew with Sivir-comp speed,

Turned on the PC and threw up the security feed.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,

Gave a lustre of midday to objects below,

When what to their wandering eyes did appear,

But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer,

With a little old driver so lively and quick,

They knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.

More rapid than couriers his coursers they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:

"Now, Wavedasher! Now, Dashdancer! Now Thatcher and Kapkan!

On, Comet Storm! On, Cupid’s Bow! On, Dhalsim and Bison!

To the top of the majors! To answer the fans’ call!

Now dash away! Mash away! Flash away all!"

As players that before the wild offseason try,

When they meet with true potential, to Team Liquid they fly;

So up through the rankings the coursers they flew

With the sleigh full of trophies, and accolades too—

And then, in a twinkling, they heard on the roof

The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.

As they drew in their head, and were turning around,

Down the chimney, not St. Nick, but St. Puffolas came with a bound.

She was dressed all in merch, a Team Liquid fan, belikes

And her clothes were all decorated with Monster and Mikes;

A bundle of wins she had within her pack,

That she seemed like a fed spectre just buying back.

Her eyes—how they twinkled! Her dimples, how merry!

Her cheeks were like Rosa’s, her nose like a cherry!

Her troll little mouth was drawn up like Archer Queen’s bow,

And the beard on her chin was as white as the snow;

The stump of a cigar pipe she held tight in her teeth,

And the smoke, it encircled her head like a wraith;

She had big eyes, like saucers of jelly

And small stocky arms and a big round pink belly.

Jigglypuff was rotund as they come with a voice so pure,

But the longer she would sing, Steve and Victor dropped to the floor.

With a scowl on her face, Jiggly turned to the Christmas tree

And stocked it with boxes of trophies from wins oh so free.

With marker-made horses she decorated their faces and clothes

She had not a moment to rest, so up the chimney she rose;

She sprang to her sleigh, to her team gave a ping,

And away they all flew like a fox asleep from sing.

But they heard her exclaim, ere she drove out of sight—

“Good luck have fun to all, and to all a gg!”