T'was the night before Christmas, and all through the Fort,
Not a machine was stirring, not even a teleport;
The sticky bombs were hung by the intel with care,
In hopes that the BLU team soon would be there.
The Demomen were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of scrumpy danced in their heads;
And myself in my coat and Heavy in his vest,
Had just began to settle down for the night's rest,
When outside the base arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew a hurry,
Tore open the shutters to see the desert's dust in a flurry,
The moon on the sand where plants did not grow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my lips brought a hundred tiny smiles
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny crocodiles
With the massive burly driver, not the slightest bit frail
I knew in a moment it must be Saxton Hale.
More rapid than kiwis his coursers they came,
And he bellowed, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Gnasher! now Lancer!, now Enforcer and Oxen!
On, Helmut! On, Trepid! on Bombarder and Citizen!
To the top of the Fort! to the top of the wall!"
"Now smash away! smash away! smash away all!"
As dust that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the Fort's top the courses they flew,
With the sleigh full of weapons and Saxton Hale, too.
And then, in an earth-shaking thud, I heard on the straw
The scratching and pawing of each massive claw.
As I drew in my head and was turning around,
Down the chimney Saxton Hale came with a bound.
He was barely dressed for the season but showed no signs of wear,
And his chest was covered in the manliest of hair,
A bundle of goodies he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a deranged peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes - how they twinkled! his chest how hairy!
His cheeks were like rugged, his guise made me wary!
His droll little mouth was drawn up in a grin,
And the moustache on his lip was as was far from thin.
The hat perched atop his head with a folded brim,
Was like that of Sniper's, who upon missing this would be most grim;
He had a rugged face and a stout muscular body,
Though one would admit that his fashion sense was quite gaudy,
He was rough and statue-esque, a right jolly old Aussie,
And I laughed when I saw him, feeling a bit saucy;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know that I had plenty to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
keeping an eye out for hidden explosives; then turned with a jerk,
And laying a clenched fist on his hip,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he did zip;
He sprang to his sleigh and gave his team a shout,
And away they all flew with speed like the Scout.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove into the air so nippy,
"Happy Christmas to all and to all a good noight! Unless you're a hippie!!"