Merry X-mas TGA!!

'Twas the night before Alliance war, when all through the
Clan Not a Rager was stirring, not even to spam;
The Missiles were hung by the silo with care,
In hopes that TGA soon would be there;
The Enemy was nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Armageddon and destruction danced in their heads;
And PapaFunk in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's scrap,
When out on the field there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the Tank to see what was the matter.

Away to command I flew like a flash,
Tore open the blast doors and threw out the hash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of war to ragers below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But WallywolfTGA, and eight tiny Queers,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be Dig Tick.
More rapid than snails our attackers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called us bad names;

Now, Mello! now, Cougar! Now, Wally and Tod!
On, Baggy! On jeremy! On, nemisis and xFoGx!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
(Oh Crap, Oh Crap, The bastards wont fall)
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, They run to the sky,
So up to the house-top The Great Alliance they flew,
With the sleigh full of wounded, and Dig Tik too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little goof.
As I drew my revolver, and was turning around,
Down the chimney came Dig Tik with a bound.

He was dressed all in leather, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all torn from Fists and a boot;
A bundle of Nukes, were shot at his head,
And he looked like a peddler back from the dead.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! His dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;

The stump of a foot he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he coughed like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old wench,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filed the surender papers; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger inside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his bomber, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the boom of a missile.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,

"Good lord thier tough bastards, I aint Goona fight!