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'Twas the night before Yuletide, and all through the Lair Not a creature was stirring, dragon, dwarf, nor bugbear; The MediGriff stables were calm and quite quiet, (Which was no easy feat. Don't believe me? Just try it!); The kobolds were strewn 'cross the floor of their cavern, With visions of ale swilling in their favorite 'Dark tavern; And Draggy with her gold hoard, and I in my braids, Had just settled down from battling orc raids, When from the Entrance Chamber, mystic bells tolled, I tripped on my bed, hit the floor hard, and rolled. Shaking my head from the rough, painful fall, I tore open my door and raced down the hall. A warm, cheery light from the large fireplace, Cast flickering shadows 'cross my ebon hued face, When, what to my lavender eyes should appear, But a large blood-red sleigh, and eight sharp-hooved reindeer! With the driver's full beard, he resembled a sage, But, I knew in that moment he was an enemy mage! With sure footed movements, his coursers, they came, And his eyes peered straight at me as he called me by name; "Whoa, Dasher! Whoa, Dancer! Why, hello, my dear Vixen! I seem to be lost... Now, stop that! Bad Blitzen! Somewhere I turned wrong! I think Albuquerque, What a storm brewing there; Indeed, 'twas quite murky!" I narrowed my eyes, and studied this corpulent elf, He seemed almost harmless, still, I readied myself; With a mighty 'heave-ho', he dropped to the floor, Slow and quite cautious, I inched towards the door. And then, in a twinkling, he brought to his hand A folding type parchment, marked with a far distant land. Arcane lore in my mind, trusty whip now unfurled, I awaited the fat elf's first spell to be hurled. He too, now I noticed, was clothed all in red, With white fur-like trimming, atop, even, his head; He reached in a bag he had flung on his back, I waited no longer, my whip snaked out... *CRACK* His eyes -- how they narrowed! his mouth drew quite taut! He murmured a word, and in his spell I was caught! My muscles were frozen and my mind was as mush, I expected my death, yet he seemed in no rush; "I'll forgive you your outburst," he said rubbing his arm, "I just stopped for directions. I meant you no harm." He pulled out a new parchment; scanned it in a trice; "I see, my dear drowess, you are as Naughty as Nice!" "Your errors of past, would have earned lumps of coal, Thought your more recent efforts show goodness your goal!" He reached into his sack, then raised his arm in the air, Grasped in his stout, pudgy fingers was a Beanie Baby� Owlbear! He then placed the stuffed toy in the crook of my arm, And gave a mysterious smile that was kindly and warm. "Though this world could well use me," he said lifting his sack, "Alas, my own world does beckon, though one day I'll be back!" He sprang to his sleigh, and he gave a broad wink, I felt his spell loosen; I could move! I could think! And I heard him exclaim, as he gave me the slip, "MERRY YULETIDE TO ALL, BUT BEWARE VIX'S WHIP!" 
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Based on the poem The Night Before Christmas by Clement Clarke Moore