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A Dramatic Reading: ‘Twas The Night Before Christmas (In South Park)

Thu, December, 7 by

If your child has recently reached puberty and wants condoms instead of candies for Christmas, there’s nothing much you can do. The traditions you once held dear will fade away and the holidays will turn from something magical into something statutory. But if one of your favourite holiday treats is an annual reading of the timeless Clement Clarke Moore poem, ‘Twas The Night Before Christmas, we have a gift for you.

We’ve recreated the famous work using South Park as inspiration. You and your teen will enjoy the added swearwords, strict adherence to South Park mythology, and violent imagery that the original severely lacks. Sit back with a warm glass of chocolate nog and enjoy:

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through South Park
Woodland Creatures were stirring in a forest that’s dark
The toilets were clean, not a smell in the air
In hopes that Mr. Hankey would soon be there;

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Snacky Smores danced in their heads;
With fibre-rich bowels and presents to unwrap
They dreamed of the smell of their dear Christmas crap

When out on the town there arose such a clatter,
I got out my phone to record the whole matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
With hopes that my video would make me some cash.

The moon on the breast of the permanent snow
Meant I turned off the flash to catch the action below,
When, what to my iPhone’s screen should alight,
But Santa and Jesus engaged in a fight

As a little crowd gathered, so lively and quick
The battle got crazy with punches and kicks
More rapid than eagles some lasers were hurled
With curse words and insults that shocked boys and girls

“I died for you sins and it’s my birthday,
I wish I didn’t have to kill Santa today.”
“But I bring you presents and candy and joy
I’ll kill you again then give these kids toys.”

As the fighting continued I stood there in terror
I watched someone die, an innocent bystander
He had on a parka, face hidden behind
His head that got severed flew into the night  

It dinged off a statue, which fell to the snow
Crushing three children who were standing below
This shit was crazy, it would soon have to cease
When will it end, should I call the police?

Then out of the darkness a figure appeared
With skates on his feet and a face without beard
His red shirt had a deep v with white puffy cuffs
His pants were so tight you could see his sex stuff

His eyes — how they twinkled! his hairline how fading!
His supple butt wiggling while dancing and skating
His piercing blue eyes shone like ice in the night
Distracting the kids from the crazy weird fight

He spoke to the children who paid full attention
While speaking of peace to relieve all the tension
Then Jesus called Santa a “fuckin puss-y”
And before the kids knew it Boitano took leave   

The kids intervened and the fighting, it stopped!
And I made the decision to not call the cops
It looked the fighters had called it a truce
I admit that I wanted to see more abuse     

I turned from the window to head for the shitter
While starting to post my video to Twitter  
But before I could sit and empty my guts
I smelled something gross like garbage and nuts

He sprang from the toilet with smile ear-to-ear
He leaped to the counter and left a poo smear
Then his little voice sang, with its clean Southern flow
“Merry Christmas to you and howwwwwwwwdy ho!”