(lyrics by _samalander)
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the Tower
The only thing stirring was my whiskey sour
The stockings were hung on the flatscreen with care,
In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.
The robots were nestled all snug in their docks,
With visions of spark plugs and refurbished shocks.
Natalie-from-Legal, Hawkguy, Bruce, and Cap,
Had just settled their brains for a long winter’s nap.
When out on the roof there arose such a ruckus,
I sprang from the bar and said gee, golly, fuck us.
Away to the penthouse I flew in my suit,
Hid my stolen files and contraband loot.
The moon on the spire of my new rooftop deck
Was as bright as mid-day and I said, "What the heck?"
When, what else could breach my armed defense barrier,
But a quinjet leading a bigass helicarrier.
With a brash old director, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it wasn't that Nick.
Rappelling on cables, his agents they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
"Now Rollins! now, Sitwell! Fitz-Simmons and Coulson!
On, Hill, May and Rumlow! on Carter and Wilson!
To the top of the roof! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"
As trickster-gods with scepters crash into the floor,
When they meet with an obstacle, say, maybe, Thor.
So down to the roof-top the agents they dropped,
Armed with guns, knives, and swords, and one big riding crop.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard in my abode
Someone who had cracked my security code.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Up behind me damn Nick Fury came with a bound.
He was dressed all in black, from his head to his foot,
In a trench coat and boots both the color of soot.
A bundle of weapons were flung on his back,
And he looked like could do me in with one whack.
His eye-how it twinkled! his scars, oh how dashing!
His cheekbones like razors, his teeth sharp and flashing!
His grim little mouth was a line, firm and regal,
And the top of his head was as bald as an eagle.
The stump of cigar he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and one damn bigass gun,
That seemed ripe to take out ten men, set to stun!
He was muscled and tall, with shoulders like a shelf,
And I nearly pissed the suit, in spite of myself!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon filled me with the chill of an unearthly dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings but mine-- what a jerk.
He gave me the finger, and then thumbed his nose
And giving a nod, to the helicarrier rose!
He sprang to his post, to his team, cool as ice,
He gave orders to raise up the cloaking device.
But I heard him exclaim as they vanished in the dark,
"Happy Christmas to all, 'cept to you, Tony Stark!"