T'was the night before Christmas
And all through the house
Not a creature was stirring,
Not even a mouse.
… There was a zombie, though.
His name was Augustus,
A cute little tyke.
He was courteous, polite –
Really, what's not to like?
He did on occasion
have a craving for brain,
But being so friendly,
he tried to abstain.
And now he was crouching
In some other man's home,
He'd hid in the living room,
All cold and alone.
His family, you see,
Such a colourful bunch,
Had left him behind
When they went out to lunch.
They all found his conscience
Annoying and trite
When they were indulging
Their own appetite.
So on this Christmas day
(The clock had just struck twelve)
The young boy Augustus
Was all by himself.
He looked at the Christmas tree,
green as his skin,
and wondered when the
happy cheer would begin.
Then a voice came behind him,
Quite gave him a fright:
"I hope then, you're happy
On this blessed night!"
Augustus turned
And saw what couldn't be:
A fat man wearing red,
Smilling generously.
"What are you, my boy?
No, I think I can guess.
You're one of those green lads
Who leave such a mess."
"Tearing people apart,
And then eating them raw.
Now, THAT's being naughty,
Even breaking the law!"
Augustus felt shame,
Started backing away.
But the fat man said "No, child,
I beg that you stay!"
"Your people are naughty,
But I sense that you're not.
Pray tell, would your name be Augustus
- or not?"
It was, so he nodded,
And Santa Claus smiled.
"You I know from my list,
You remarkable child."
Then he opened his sack,
And he pulled something out.
"I've got something for you,
You've been doing without."
The present was this,
With a string and a bow:
The half-rotten corpse
Of an unwashed hobo.
The boy hesitated,
His gift dripping with red.
"Go on, son" said Santa,
"This lad's already dead!"
And so Christmas was saved
For a small Zombie boy.
He was given a meal
He could really enjoy.
And Santa took off
On his round-the-world flight.
"Merry Christmas to all
And to all a good night!"
*OMNOMNOMNOMNOMNOMNOM*