When what did my eyes see out low,
But an ancient convoyeance, knee-deep in the snow.
I saw its face glow, the eyes full of scorn
Dressed all in crimson, like a servant of Khorne!
"Fire bolters! Fire lascannons! Fire Mortars and Gatlings!
Fire Guardsmen! Fire lasguns! Fire Ogryns and Ratlings!
You men there in the tower, and you men there on the walls,
Now blast away! Blast away! Blast away all!"
But all through this maelstorm the evil one flew
Past bolt shells and krak shells and frag that we threw!
And then to my horror I heard on the roof
The vile covourting of each decadent hoof!
Down from the chimney it came with a. boom
Its great form, filled me with gloom
I saw its eyes glow, its vast stomach gurgle
Bloated and fat, like a daemon of Nurgle.
We ran up towards it, closing the rift
Then it reached in his satchel, and pulled out a gift
Then it tossed the vile boxes, they fell in a stoop
As they arched through the air at me and my troop.
But the boxes fell short and plooped at our feet
Our moral was strong, we did not retreat.
But the marines paused, our charge was disrupted.
They picked up the boxes and were quickly corrupted.
For each present held a chaotic present,
The marines (damn their souls!) found them quite pleasent.
A bolter! A flamer! A new powerfist!
The Claus gave to all and he checked off his list!
But against myself it failed in its goal
For to me it gave but a small pile of coal.
But the station was lost, and I could only instruct
The bastion computer to set self-destruct.
I saw him escape, as the base burst into light
crying "Merry Christmas to all! And to all a good night!