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‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the estate,
The torches were lit and the hour was late.
(The mansion looks Gothic, but it’s really Victorian
Like something Marty and Doc would visit in a Delorean.)
The wraiths were all quiet under the beds
For fear that a vampire would spell off their heads.
Mordelia had hung up the stockings with care,
In hopes Father Christmas that night would be there.
She’d hung extra stockings, just to make sure,
At all 36 chimneys, and one by the door.
The weather outside was all blustery and blowing
The country was covered, yet it was still snowing
And inside the situation wasn’t much cheerier
Despite the best efforts of the parents, and Mordelia.
Basil was pining upstairs in his room,
Playing Kishi Bashi and dripping with gloom.
Which doesn’t seem fitting music for the season,
But he tends to be emo beyond any reason.
When at the front door, there arose such a clatter,
Mordelia sprang up to see what was the matter.
Away to the entrance she flew with a bound,
To see what could make such a clamorous sound.
There was the Chosen One on the front steps.
His hair was disheveled and covered in drips.
His boots they were muddy and encrusted in grime,
And his pants and his coat were all spattered with slime.
He was carrying nothing but the clothes on his back,
And he looked like an outlaw who had wandered off-track.
His nose, it was dripping, and his cheeks, they were red.
A layer of snow now blanketed his head.
He shuffled and blushed and looked down with a grin,
“Hey there, Mordelia. Is your brother in?”
“Why’s it your business?” she asked with a frown.
“And what will you give me to make him come down?”
He gulped and he stammered, and scuffed with his shoes.
Then he must have decided he had nothing to lose.
“Ok, Mordelia, I don’t know what your age is,
But I’ll let you borrow the Sword of Mages.
I normally wouldn’t give weapons to a child,
But you’re related to Baz, so you have to be wild.”
“Besides,” she heard him mutter, under his breath.
“All of you Grimms scare me half to death.”
She answered him with a well-practiced sneer,
“Alright, Chosen One. I’ll tell him you’re here.”
And then up the stairs to her brother she gave a holler:
“Your school friend is back, I’ll let him in for ten dollars!”
(She’d inconveniently forgotten that in Britain they use pounds
She watched American tv when her parents weren’t around.)
The moment she spoke, her brother was there in a dash,
Before she had time to extort him for cash.
More rapid than eagles, to the entrance he stole;
He looked like a footballer chasing a goal.
He gathered up the Chosen One and led him away,
To lend him some clothes and a room he could stay.
Father was dressed in a suit and a tie
And mother was serving a large Christmas pie.
The boys said not a word, but Mordi noticed at dinner,
Her father’s expression got thinner and thinner.
And her mother’s smile was the slightest bit strained
As if carving the turkey was making her pained.
Her brother kept looking away from his plate,
Following the Chosen One and watching as he ate .
(She didn’t see what could cause him such fascination–
Their guest made a mess of the Christmas celebration.
He shovelled in food as fast as he was able,
And half of his meal ended up on the table.)
She narrowed her eyes and decided with a pout,
That something was up, and she’d figure it out.
You might not believe it, but she was effective
At lurking and sneaking and being a detective.
She made finding loopholes into an art,
Which made her invincible at Mario Kart.
She was careful and quiet, a right devious elf.
Her plots often succeeded, in spite of herself.
When the boys left the table and went off to bed,
She had a plan brewing that she'd hatched in her head.
And in a twinkling, she followed behind,
Careful and quiet, to see what she’d find.
And that’s how she ended up, later that night
Stealing into her brother’s room, hidden from sight.
(Her brother, when angry, could be very unpleasant;
Her plan was to say she’d been searching for presents.)
(Which, as a plan, was both sure and steady.
It’s what she’d be doing, if she hadn’t found them already.)
So into the room she crept, through a trap door,
Conveniently located behind a dresser on the floor.
A trap door that Basil had never suspected,
That allowed her to enter and leave undetected.
When she peeked round the dresser, such a sight met her eyes,
That she gasped, and she covered her mouth in surprise.
There on the carpet in front of the fire
Was her elder brother, in messy attire.
His hair was mussed up, and so were his clothes;
A pinkish blush covered his cheeks and his nose.
She had but a moment to wonder what could dazzle
Such a cold-blooded person as her brother Basil.
When what to her wondering eyes should appear
But a shirtless Chosen One, to her brother drawing near.
He was chubby and plump, in a jovial mood
On account of consuming a boatload of food.
He said not a word, but went gayly to work;
He lay down on the rug next to Baz, with a smirk.
And then there commenced such a smooching and cuddling
Mordelia found the scene entirely befuddling.
Baz had never before been caught looking that happy,
It’s a wonder a Pitch could get so soft and sappy.
He looked like a princess in one of her books
Giving his prince all sorts of mushy looks.
The Chosen One licked him and bit him on the cheek;
Her brother turned pinker and let out a squeak.
They canoodled a while, and then Basil got bolder
And laid his head down on the Chosen One’s shoulder.
The moon on the chest of the now-fallen Snow
Gave a luster of gold to the titties below.
She couldn’t resist then, he looked so pathetic,
Which ran completely counter to his vampire aesthetic.
Besides she’s a gremlin, which she can’t hardly help
And she laughed when she saw them, in spite of herself.
(If you’re wondering why she would spoil their heaven,
You’ll have to remember, she’s only age seven.)
Then Basil leapt up and went into a strop
His indignant dramatics were over the top.
“Why you little sneak, I should spell off your ears!
How long have you been spying, and what did you hear?”
(This threat was, of course, entirely toothless
Though she knew for a fact that her brother could be ruthless.)
But before she could answer, Mordelia was spared,
By a sound that they heard at the top of the stairs.
The twins had awoken, and come to enquire
If perhaps Father Christmas had been burned in a fire.
Or been stuck in the chimney, and covered in soot.
Or had stumbled and fallen while delivering the loot.
They had simply assumed when they heard all the noise,
That it must involve Santa and a bag full of toys.
And since their excitement was too keen to smother,
They had managed to carry their infant brother.
At this sight, their big brother stifled a grin,
He took a deep breath, and he lifted his chin.
“On Delia, on Swithin, on Sophie and Petra,
If you don’t scramble now, then I’m coming to getcha!
Get out of my room, and get out of the hall.
Now, dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly
So the children all scattered, as Basil drew nigh.
But she heard him exclaim as they scrambled out of sight,
“Happy Christmas, Mordelia, and to all a goodnight!”
