All the 'Lambs down in 'Lambville were happy preparing
For Christmas with every effort unsparing.
But it's not the 'Lambs that we're thinking of here.
So let's leave those people to their Christmas cheer.
No, it's the SeeDs up in SeeDville that concern us this fall.
Especially their leader, in leather, named Squall.
Squall didn't like Christmas, and he hadn't ever.
All the carols and presents were met with 'Whatever'.
As far as he knew, it just made SeeDs soft
Less sharp about fighting when the snow was aloft.
Instead of their weapons, they threw balls of snow
And chased the girls round with green mistletoe.
(Well, okay, that's just Irvine. But still, he's a SeeD.
Or is he? They never said. Just follow my lead.)
He stood in Cid's room and he watched them all hustle
Alive and pink-cheek with the holiday bustle.
Quistis wrapped packages and Selphie, she sang.
And all through the hallways the awful notes rang.
The kitchens baked cookies, he knew by the smell.
"I hate this," he growled to his faithful dog, Zell.
"We have jobs! We have duties! We're professionals here!
Meant to save people from oppression and fear!
But every year, this time, we turn into idjits.
Less concerned with our jobs than the buying of widgets!"
Zell winced at the rhyme. And I'm sure you did too.
But Squall was squad leader, so what could Zell do?
Squall stared out at the bustle with a glare most thunderous.
"All those SeeDs," he did note, "they are soldiers under us.
And what do they do? They neglect their jobs!
They hug each other! They refuse to face mobs!
They want to go sledding down roads freshly plowed!
Why, it would be better were Christmas... not allowed!"
And that thought caused a smile, so dreadful and wrong
(A smile on Squall's face? That doesn't belong.)
That Zell cringed away with a sharp bark of terror
But then looked again, in case of an error.
But no. Squall was smiling. A most evil smirk.
And Zell had this mad thought: "Oh, I hate my work".
Zell tried to escape, but Squall's hand on his collar
Stopped him quite cold, though he let out a holler.
"Damn, Squall, don't do that! I don't know what you think
But maybe, just maybe, you should see the shrink!
These people NEED Christmas, they need the relief!
And presents! And carols! And hot dogs, all beef!"
"Oh, no, Zell," said Squall, his evil grin fading.
"I know that you like the carols, the trading
Of presents all wrapped in their shiny green bows;
But as leader, I cannot allow them to doze.
I know they'll be angry. I know that they'll yell.
But I intend to ban Christmas and each jingle bell.
I've got nothing against it, in theory, it's true.
But if there were work, why, what would we do?
We've gone soft! That can't happen! We're proud! We're the SeeDs!
The best mercenaries, the swift doers of deeds!
As leader, I must do those things you don't like.
So brace yourself, Zell boy. And... bring me the mike."
Zell gulped. As Squall's dog, his tail metaphorical
Was tucked 'tween his legs (ain't that allegorical?)
As much as he hated it, he'd do what Squall said
Even if the thought made him hang his poor head.
He picked up the mike and he shuffled on down
And gave it to Squall with a most piteous frown.
Squall patted Zell's head with an idle goodwill
And flicked on the mike to announce the big chill.
"My fellow SeeDs," Squall's miked voice did boom.
"As I sit here aloft and look out from Cid's room
I notice it's Christmas, all chaotic and sappy.
And, fellow SeeDs, this makes me unhappy.
As much as you like it, I cannot abide
This merriment, with all the world's problems outside.
I hereby END Christmas. You must put it away.
Tomorrow is hereby a plain winter's day.
Take down the tinsel and unstaple the holly.
Get rid of the presents, and turn down the jolly."
And a cry oh so plaintive arose from below
That Zell thought that Squall must surely eat crow.
But with a scowl and irritated flick of his wrist:
Squall said, "I know you don't like it, but I must insist!
Christmas distracts you! You're not in top form!
Get rid of the tree and ungarland the dorm!
I'm sorry. As leader, I must make a decision.
And that's it. I'm sorry. I'll bear your derision.
There'll be no more Christmas, I'm sorry to say.
This is Squall, signing off. Have a nice day."
Squall flicked the mike off and grinned wide at Zell.
"Now, THAT should do it! I suppose time will tell.
I know they'll miss Christmas, but I have a point.
We can't AFFORD Christmas in this merc joint."
Zell opened his mouth to rebut his rebuttal
When a blare of loud trumpets did cause him to scuttle.
All over the Garden SeeDs came to a stop
As, from the ceiling, bewinged Rinoa did drop.
"Oh Squally-poo! How awful! How terrible this thing!
To forbid them their Christmas! To forbid them to sing!
To rend the tinsel, to destroy the poor tree?
Oh, Squally-poo, Squally-poo, how can this be?"
Squall just scowled as his girlfriend so happy and perky.
"You know that I hate it when you make me look jerky.
You're not a SeeD so you can't understand
The immense solemn duty that we owe this land!
I've done what was best! And I know you can't see it.
But Christmas destroys us! I guarantee it!"
Winged Rinoa did put on her most fearsome pout
"But, Squally-poo, that's what Christmas is about!
It's about acting different! Nicer, and kinder!
Not being so ready to put men through the grinder!
It's all about not being an ASS for one day!
But, no. Be an ass. Have it your way."
Squall stared at Rinoa, his eyebrows drawn down.
"You called me an ass," he said with a frown.
"But I think that it's pointless to pretend to be sweet
For the sake of a holiday. That's just too neat.
Wouldn't it be better to be nicer all year
Than to indulge in an orgy of fake Christmas cheer?
But who am I kidding? You won't understand.
You're made out of saccharin. You think it's all grand."
Rinoa opened her mouth, but was interrupted by Zell.
"Oh dear, oh heavens, oh gracious, oh HELL!
Squall, I know that you hate to admit that you're wrong
But you'd best say something to pacify this throng!"
Squall ran to the window. Outside were the SeeDs.
All up in arms over the most nefarious of deeds.
Having been denied presents and tinsel and cakes
They came brandishing weapons (and Frankenstein rakes).
"Give us back Christmas, you Scrooge!" they cried.
"Or, so help us, we'll trap you inside!"
Squall ran to the mike with a furious scowl.
And flipped it on, causing the feedback to howl.
The SeeDs, they did flinch back. Rinoa did moan.
And Squall yelled, "FINE then! To each his own!
I expect you to remain alert and aware
But go ahead! Have Christmas! See if I care!
And if a crisis arises and you are not ready
I'll send you out anyway with hands all unsteady!
You'll falter! You'll die! It'll all be your fault!
So take your Christmas with a big grain of salt!"
The SeeDs, they were jubilant. And away they did race
To put up the bright tinsel, all over the place.
Rinoa was beaming, and poor Zell was relieved.
The look on Squall's face was not to be believed.
He didn't look angry. He didn't look sad.
He didn't look happy, or cranky, or mad.
He just looked on blankly as Rinoa hugged Zell
And then ran on over and hugged him as well.
"I've done what you wanted. Now please leave me be.
Go dance with the others around the lit tree.
I've never liked Christmas. I'll stay here alone.
And keep watch, be all wary, and answer the phone."
Rinoa just smiled and sprawled out at his feet.
"There's a phone up here? Wow! I think that's neat!
You go on, Zell, and have fun for me.
I think... there's somewhere that I'd rather be."
Squall rolled his eyes. But he didn't protest.
And Zell, well sometimes, he knows what's best.
He slipped from the office, as quick as he could
And shut the door behind him, shut it but good.
He went down to the party, smiling quite wide,
Leaving Squall and Rinoa both shut up inside.
What happened then? Well, I don't know.
Because 'The Squall Who Stole Christmas' is a children's show.
Merry Christmas, happy Hanukkah, and a lovely Yule.
Happy closing of the year. Happy Solstice. You rule.
A po-M so hastily written in Word
Can't express how I love you. That's so absurd.
Thank you for coming. Thank you for this year.
I hope that you find some seasonal cheer.
Happy holidays from Mooncalf, the page and the person.
That's it. I'm all done. There'll be no more versin'. |