User blog:Bantha117/Moar Munkee Stories: 'Twas the Night - With a Twist

Ye. I maked dis. Enjoy plz.

The Story
DWAS the Night after Christmas, when all throughout chat

Not a user was arguing, not even Matt;

The sockpuppets were blocked by the admins with care,

In hopes that Santa Wach soon would be there;

The users were editing all of their pages;

While much debate was had over the page known as Stages;

And Tigger with his internship, and I the Munkee,

Had just finished laughing at a joke from Lexi,

When inside the chatroom arose such a clatter,

As users stepped right in to see what was the matter.

No longer "Away" were Patts and CW,

For they too were intrigued by this user so Blue.

This is a rhyme made simply to fit the meter (lol so clever),

As the user addressed himself as Nice Peter,

But soon no one cared as in came another,

The partner of the man who addressed those as “brother”,

With a savage wrestler so big and so proud,

I knew in a moment he must be Wachow.

As quick as a BreZ his followers they came,

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

"Now, Crushers! now, Mocker! now Stalker and Vintage!

On, CoMit! on, Coopid! on, Conner and FlareBlitzen!

To the room of the chat! to the messaging wall!

Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;

So swift to the chatroom the followers they flew

With the sleigh full of kicks, and Santa Wach too—

And then, in a whisper, I heard in PM

From Tigger: “Munkee, dey b spemmin de spem”.

As I went into main chat, to see what they’d done,

In a hurry Nice Peter had panicked and run.

Wachow, he was dressed, all ready to wrestle,

And his kicks were all prepped in case of distress-le (much rhyme);

A hammer in hand, and prepared to ban

This savage took charge of the issue at hand.

His iPad—how it lagged! his typing, atrocious!

But still he got rid of the trolls like Hocus Pocus!

His glasses reflected and showed off the fear,

As the followers scrambled, for kick-time was here;

The stump of a Slim Jim ($$) he held tight in his teeth,

And the flavor inspired his kick-happy spree;

He had a thick beard and a glittery suit

But that didn’t matter, his outfit was moot.

He was friendly yet tough, a fair-minded old fgt,

But Tigger had issues, he declared him a “maggot”;

A wink of his eye and a flick of his wrist

Soon gave the spammers reason to fear his… leg (not like you kick with a fist, amirite?);

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

And did all the blockings; then turned with a jerk,

And laying his finger aside of his mouth,

He yelled out loud, “THAT[S HOW W DIT IN THE SOUT”;

He sprang to his sleigh, gave his followers a nod,

And away they went like suggestions of Finn Dodd.

But I heard him exclaim, as he left the chatroom—

“Merry Christmas to all, and Snap Into a Slim Jim ($$)!”

Ye
Thanks for reading through, or even scrolling down, I suppose. I hope you've all had or will have a Merry Christmas.