StealingShad3z | The Fallout Before Christmas (Dramatic Reading) @StealingShad3zMusic | Uploaded December 2018 | Updated October 2024, 1 day ago.
!!!WARNING: STRONG LANGUAGE!!!

A Fallout Fan Poem
Parody of "The Night Before Christmas" by Clement Clarke Moore

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!! ^^

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Read Along:
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Twas the night before Christmas
And all through the vault
Past tenants weren’t stirring
Twas the radroaches fault
But the roaches were dead
All thanks to one man
Who found the old vault
As he walked the wasteland
The wanderer settled in
He though this aint bad
As his PipBoy was quiet
For there were no rads
With him in his Vault Suit
And dogmeat nearby
The two settled in
In hopes they won’t die
When at the front entrance
Their rose such a clatter
The man used his perception
To see what was the matter
Though blips were on the compass
They all seemed quite friendly
But he knew that could change
And things could get deadly
In his T-60 Armor he snuck to the front
Who the hell were these strangers
And what did they want
He peeked round a corner
And what should appear
Why a nuclear-powered sleigh
And eight tiny Rad-Deer
With a withered old geezer
All saggy and sick
This was no raider
No, he was St. Fucking Nick
More rapid than institute coursers they came
And he coughed up a loogie
As he called them by name
“Now Basher, now Cancer,
Now Lancer, and Lesion,
On Atomic, on Putrid,
On Goner, and Piston!
Let’s get this job done!
We’ll crash through the walls!
Now get off your asses
There’s no time to stall!!!”
And with a great massive jolt
The group started to fly
The dweller had to duck
As they flew on right by
Nothing could stop them
Hell, they’d just plow on through
With a sleigh full of weapons
And that old bastard too
The young man took off
Trying to catch the old coot
He holstered his pistol
For he wouldn’t dare shoot
He arrived at his camp
Where the fat man had stopped
And with an ear-piercing groan
Out the slay Santa hopped
The years weren’t kind Saint Nicholas
In fact they we’re crass
For the North Pole got nuked
And goulified his ass
An arsenal of guns
Were held on his back
From 10 mils to shotguns
Were crammed in that pack
His eyes, they were sunken
His tumors were rotten
His cheeks, well let’s say
His body had long forgotten
His decayed little mouth
Let half his teeth show
And the beard on his chin
Gave off a radiated glow
The cigarette he lit
Made a smokey grey shroud
It’d floated right above him
Like a fresh mushroom cloud
He had a fat head
And a bloated-up belly
That was grimy, and greasy
And boy was it sweaty
He was ugly, and pudgy
Even ferals looked better
Our hero gagged just a bit
But he kept himself together
Santa gave him a look
And said “Calm the fuck down!
Lemme give you your shit
So I can leave this damn town!!!”
The foul-mouthed old ghoul
Went straight to his work
The geezer was generous
But God what a jerk
Then laying a finger
Where his nose had once been
Santa sighed “Well that’s it.”
And he gave a slight grin
He hopped in his sleigh
And said “Welp, gotta run!”
Then he flew to the surface
Like a bullet from a gun
He rose into the night
Over all of the ranges
He said “Merry Christmas to all!
Cause war, war never changes!!!”