Twas the night before Christmas and all throughout Cruel
Not a creature was stirring, not a noob, not a fool
The links had been posted, the insults been hurled
Their computers' shut down, in their beds were they curled
They dreamed of dream horses and tigers and grays
Some had nightmares of dirckman, one had wet dreams of hay
So I in my asshat sat drinking my rum
With thoughts of cruel posters long past and to come
When out of the corner of my tired rheumy eye
A few tiny pixels from my tube did I spy
I rushed to my chair and I clicked on my mouse
I entered some text and sent "Ops in da house"
For over on Gifthorse the Fox had been busy
had been driving poor horse with unknowns to a tizzy
And suspicions did rise as they will and they spread
And soon all the cruel posters had chimed in and they said
"You're Meta, you're Smitty, you're Zoo, no you're Gray"
"You're Poopkorn, no Aude, no you're Dar", shouted they
At this paranoid site I just grinned and I chuckled
Ah the meltdowns, the drama, the sanity buckled
"Not Meta, nor smitty, nor any of those"
Quoth the jolly FM, observing their throes
Then quick as an elf, and a gay one at that
(I mean gay in the old sense, not gay in like *that*)
The Foxie she vanished away from all sight
The tagboard went quiet, as silent as night
But the last thing I heard before closing my eyes
Was the sound of a voice saying to my surprise
"Merry Christmas to All" it shouted to them
"and A Happy New Year, Joyfulgirl is FM
There's your Gift, Horse!
Editor's note: I think Foxie can easily say, "My work here is Done".