Saturday, December 10, 2016

Twas the Nightmare Before Christmas (A Poem by Chris Tanski)



The last few years I have found myself to be fortunate enough to end up on Fright-Rags' Annual Christmas Card List! Each year Ben and Company send out the absolute coolest X-mas cards and I think this year's may very well be my favorite yet! Besides the card featuring a kick-ass spoof on a vintage Saturday Evening Post cover, inside was a very clever Elm Street inspired poem by my friend Chris Tanski that I'm gonna share below:

Twas the Nightmare Before Christmas

Twas the nightmare before Christmas, when all through Elm street
A creature was stirring, looking for fresh meat.
The stalking’s were quick and done with such precision,
In fear that it was Freddy doing the incision.

The teens were nestled all scared in their beds,
While visions of razor fingers sliced open their heads.
And me in my pajamas, I laid in my room,
Had just settled down for my eventual doom.

When down in the basement there arose such a noise,
I sprang from my bed because I had heard a voice.
Away to the hallway I threw open the door,
Ran down the stairs and hoped there’d be no gore.

The steam out the pipe of this downstairs boiler
Gave the feeling that this would be my slumber time spoiler.
When, what to my frightful eyes should appear,
But the son of a thousand maniacs, and his handy glove of fear.

With a little old snicker, so quick like a cougar,
I knew in a moment it must be Fred Krueger.
So fast with a quip, his insults they came,
he grinned, and snarled, and called them by name!

"Hey Piggies! Hey, bitches! This I avow!
Come, Kiddies! Your souls! All my children now!
To the top of the stairs! to the top of the wall!
Now Slash away! Slash away! Slash them all!"

He was burnt on his body, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
The souls of his victims he had all on his back,
And he looked like a monster, who was ready to attack.
The glove on his hand, he held oh so tight,
Any person he faced wouldn’t put up a fight.
He had a witch face and a dirty brown fedora,
That sweater he wore, was it made of angora?

He was skinny and gaunt, a right scary old demon,
And he laughed when he saw me, I began screamin’!
A flick of his wrist and a twist of his head,
Soon let me to know I was about to be dead.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his prey,
And filled with revenge, it was me he would slay.
And raising his hand he was to bring great harm,
I would have been dead if it wasn’t for my alarm!

I had sprang awake, much to his chagrin,
I got away, my body he was not to skin 
But I heard him cackle, ‘as he gave out a scare,
"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good-night…mare!"

- Chris Tanski of Fright-Rags.


For some more of Chris' Work, check out these "Ghost of Shitmas Past"!





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