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'Twas the night before
Christmas,
and all through the ship
Not a circuit was buzzing,
not one microchip;
The phasers were hung
in the armory securely,
In hope that no aliens
would get up early.
The crewmen were nestled
all snug in their bunks
(Except for the few who
were partying drunks);
And Picard in his nightshirt
and Bev in her lace,
Had just settled down
for a neat face-to-face.
When out in the halls
there arose such a racket,
That we leapt from our
beds, pulling on pants and jacket.
Away to the lifts we all
shot like a gun,
Leapt into the cars and
yelled loudly, "Deck One!"
The bridge Red-Alert lights,
which flashed through the din,
Gave a luster of Hades
to objects within.
When, what, on the viewscreen,
should our eyes behold,
But a weird kind of sleigh,
and some geek who looked old.
But the glint in his eyes
was so strange and askew,
That we knew in a moment
it had to be Q.
His sleigh grew larger
as closer he came.
Then he zapped on the
bridge and addressed us by name;
"It's Riker! It's Data!
It's Worf and Jean-Luc!
It's Geordi! And Wesley,
the genetic fluke!
To the top of the bridge,
to the top of the hall!
Now float away, float
away, float away all!"
As leaves in autumn are
whisked off the street,
So the floor of the bridge
came away from our feet,
And up the ceiling our
bodies they flew,
As the captain called
out, "What the hell is this Q?!"
The prankster just laughed
and expanded his grin,
And, snapping his fingers,
he vanished again.
As we took in our plight
and were looking around,
The spell was removed,
and we crashed to the ground.
The Q, dressed in fur
from his head to his toe,
Appeared once again to
continue the show.
"That's enough!" cried
the captain, "You'll stop this at once!"
And Riker said, "Worf!
Take your aim at this dunce!"
"I'm deeply offended,
Jean-Luc," replied Q.
"I just wanted to spend
Christmas with you."
As we scoffed at his words,
he produced a large sack.
He dumped out the contents,
and took a step back.
"I've brought gifts,"
he said, "just to show I'm sincere.
There's something delightful
for everyone here."
He sat on the floor and
dug into the pile,
And handed out gifts with
his most charming smile.
"For Counselor Troi, there's
no need to explain,
Here's Tylenol-Beta for
all of your pain.
For Worf I've got mints
as his breath's not too great,
And for Geordi LaForge,
an inflatable date.
For Wesley, some hormones,
and Clearasil-Plus:
For Data, a joke book;
for Riker, a truss.
For Beverly Crusher, there's
sleek lingerie,
And for Jean-Luc, the
thrill of seeing her that way."
Then he sprang to his
feet with that grin on his face,
And, clapping his hands,
disappeared into space.
But we heard him exclaim
as he dwindled from sight,
"Merry Christmas to all,
and to all a good flight!"
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