THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS

Star Trek: The Next Generation Style 

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the ship
Not a circuit was buzzing, not one microchip;

The phasers were hung in the armory securely,
in hopes  that no aliens would get up that 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 nice face to face...

When out in the halls there arose such a racket,
That we leapt form our beds, pulling on pants and jacket.

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 guy who looked old.

His sleigh grew much larger as closer he came.
Then he zapped to the bridge and addressed us by name:

"It's Riker!   It's Data!  It's Worf!  and Jean-Luc!
It's Geordi!  and Wesly, 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 the autumn are whisked off the street,
So the floor of the bridge came away from our feet,

And up to the ceiling our bodies then flew,
As the captain called out, "What the...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.

Then Q, dressed in fur from 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 aim at this dunce!"

"I'm deeply offended, Jean-Luc," replied Q,
"I just want to celebrate 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 his 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 some mints as his breath is not too great,
And for Geordi Laforge, and 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 just 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 herd him exclaim as he dwindled from sight,
"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good flight!"

To reach us: