Note: you may want to read “Umbra’s Christmas Carol” first.
Everyone in Korkeaopolis likes Christmas a lot,
But Umbra, who lives just north of the city, does not!
Umbra hates Christmas! The whole Christmas season!
Now, please don’t ask why. No one quite knows the reason.
It could be his head isn’t screwed on just right.
It could be, perhaps, that his collar is too tight.
But I think that the most likely reason of all,
May be because his heart is two sizes too small.
Whatever his reason, his heart or his head,
He stands there on Christmas Eve, watching with dread.
Staring down from his cave with a most sour frown,
At the warm lighted windows below in the town.
For he knows every hero in the city beneath,
Is busy now, hanging a mistletoe wreath.
“And they’re hanging their stockings!” he snarls with a sneer.
“Tomorrow is Christmas! It’s practically here!”
Then he growls, with his soft hooves nervously drumming,
“I must find some way to stop Christmas from coming!”
For tomorrow, he knows, all the good girls and boys,
Will wake bright and early, they’ll rush for their toys!
And then! Oh, the noise! Oh, the noise!
Noise! Noise! Noise!
That’s one thing he hates! The NOISE!!!
NOISE!!! NOISE!!! NOISE!!!
Then the ChaotiX young and old will sit down to a feast,
And they’ll feast! And they’ll feast! And they’ll FEAST!!! FEAST!!! FEAST!!! FEAST!!!
They’ll feast on turkeys, puddings and beasts,
Which is something Umbra can’t stand in the least!
And then they’ll do something he likes least of all!
All of the ChaotiX, the tall and the small,
Will stand close together, with Christmas bells ringing,
They’ll stand hand-in-hand, and then they’ll start singing!
They’ll sing! And they’ll sing! And they’ll SING!!!
SING!!! SING!!! SING!!!
And the more Umbra thinks of this ChaotiX Christmassing,
The more Umbra thinks, “I must stop this whole thing!”
“Why, for several years I’ve put up with it now!”
“I must stop this Christmas from coming! But how?”
Then he gets an idea! An awful idea!
Umbra gets a wonderful, awful idea!
“I know just what to do!” Umbra laughs in his throat.
He has Number Two make a Santa hat and coat.
And he chuckles and clucks, “Number Two, make it quick!”
“With this coat and this hat, I’ll look just like Saint Nick!”
“All I need is a reindeer…” Umbra looks around.
But, since reindeer are scarce, there are none to be found.
But does that stop Umbra? No! Umbra simply says,
“If I can’t find a reindeer, I’ll make one, my way!”
His pure red eyes linger upon Number Two,
As for why, his minion doesn’t have a clue.
Number Two asks, “Master, why are you looking at me?”
Umbra chuckles again, saying only, “You’ll see.”
Umbra utters a word, and there’s a flash of light.
And Number Two screams out in pain and fright.
When the light is gone, Umbra’s intention is clear.
For Number Two has been turned into a reindeer.
“This will do nicely,” Umbra says with a smile.
“Sorry, you’ll have to stay like that for a while.”
Then he loads some bags and some old empty sacks,
On a ramshackle sleigh, along with some snacks.
Then Umbra says “Giddiyup!” and the sleigh starts down,
Towards the homes where the ChaotiX lay in their town.
All the windows are dark, quiet snow fills the air.
All the ChaotiX are dreaming sweet dreams without care.
When he comes to a stop at the Oldman Farm,
Ready and willing to do much harm,
“This is stop number one,” Umbra Claus seethes,
And he flies to the roof, with a bag in his teeth.
Then with much ease, he slides down the chimney,
For Santa can do it, and a fluffy is more… mini.
He gets stuck only once, for a moment or two.
Then he sticks his head out of the fireplace flue.
“Who still has a fireplace? Oh, I don’t know!”
“But those stockings,” he grins, “are the first things to go!”
Then he slithers and slinks, with a smile most unpleasant,
Around the whole room, and he takes every present!
Pop guns! And bicycles! Roller skates! Drums!
Checkerboards! Tricycles! Popcorn and plums!
And he stuffs them in bags, then Umbra, very nimbly,
Flies with the bags, one by one, up the chimney!
Then he slinks to the fridge, and he takes their feast!
He takes their eggnog, their turkey and their beast!
He cleans out their fridge, leaving not one nibble,
Why, that Umbra even takes their fluffy kibble!
Then he stuffs all the food up the chimney with glee,
“And now,” grins Umbra, “I will stuff up the tree!”
Umbra levitates the tree, looking aloof,
But when he hears a small sound, he stops waving his hoof.
He turns around fast, and he sees a fluffy,
A purple pegasus mare, glaring suspiciously.
Umbra has been caught by this curious mare,
Who’d gotten out of bed 'cause she heard someone there.
She stares at Umbra and says, “Santy Cwaus, wai?”
“Wai am yu takin ouw Cwis-mus twee? Wai?”
But, you know, Umbra thinks he’s so smart and so slick,
He thinks up a lie, and he thinks it up quick!
“Why, my sweet little tot,” the fake Santa Claus lies,
“There’s a light on this tree that won’t light up on one side.”
“So I’m taking it home to my workshop, my dear.”
“I’ll fix it up there. Then I’ll bring it back here.”
And his fib fools the mare, then he pats her head.
And he gets her a drink and sends her to bed.
And when Lavender goes to bed, dreaming dreams sweet as syrup,
Umbra goes to the chimney and stuffs the tree up!
Then the last thing he takes…
Is the log for their fire!
Then he goes up the chimney himself, the old liar.
On their walls, he leaves nothing but hooks and some wire.
And the one speck of food that he leaves in the house,
Is a crumb that’s too small even for a mouse.
Then he does the same thing to the ChaotiX’s houses.
Leaving crumbs too small for the ChaotiX’s mouses.
It’s quarter past dawn, all the ChaotiX still a-bed.
All the ChaotiX still a-snooze, when he packs up his sled.
Packs it up with their presents! The ribbons! The wrappings!
The tags, and the tinsel, the trimmings, the trappings!
Three thousand feet up! Up the side of Mt. Fluffit!
He rides with his load up to the tiptop to dump it!
“Poo-poo to the ChaotiX!” he’s Umbraishly humming,
“They’re finding out now that no Christmas is coming!”
“They’re just waking up! I know just what they’ll do!”
“Their mouths will hang open a minute or two!”
“Then Korkea and his friends will all cry BOO HOO!”
“That’s a noise,” grins Umbra, “that I simply must hear!”
So he pauses, and Umbra puts a hoof to his ear.
And he does hear a noise rising over the snow.
It starts in low, then it starts to grow…
But this sound isn’t sad!
Why, this sound sounds so merry!
It can’t be so!
But it is merry! Very!
He stares down at the city,
And he widens his eyes,
Then he shakes!
What he sees is a shocking surprise!
All the ChaotiX in the city, the tall and the small,
Are singing! Without any presents at all!
He hasn’t stopped Christmas from coming! It came!
Somehow or other, it came just the same!
And Umbra, with his fluffy hooves ice-cold in the snow,
Stands puzzling and puzzling, “How can it be so?”
“It came without ribbons! It came without tags!”
“It came without packages, boxes or bags!”
And he puzzles three hours, until his puzzler is sore.
Then Umbra thinks of something he hadn’t before!
“Maybe Christmas,” he thinks, “doesn’t come from a store.”
“Maybe Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more!”
Then Umbra laughs hard, with a heavy snort,
“NAAAAAH!!!” he says, “That’s a stupid thought!”
He points a hoof at the sleigh, and he says with a sneer,
“Merry Christmas, motherfuckers, and a Crappy New Year!”
FWOOSH
With but a word, he sets the sleigh alight,
And still laughing, he flies off into the night.
As the sleigh burns, from the mountain it starts to fall.
And Umbra’s heart remains two sizes too small.
Perhaps you weren’t expecting the story to end this way.
That’s how Umbra is, I’m sorry to say.
But if you think this ending is a bit too extreme,
Don’t worry, because it’s all just a…
Umbra wakes up in his cell, filled with the golden light of the anti-magical field.
“Wha? It was all just a dream? Seriously? This time it is all just a dream? That’s not fair.”
As he clambers out of his bed, Umbra glances at the clock. It’s early on Christmas morning.
“I can’t believe I’ve been stuck in this dump for over a year. Dehak, are you coming to save me at all?”
He glances at a couple of books. The copy of A Christmas Carol that Calvin gave him last year, next to a new book.
Yes, How the Grinch Stole Christmas!, obviously.
“That’s the last time I read that book before bed.”
As Umbra’s bowels begin to rumble, he hurriedly waddles over to the litterbox.
“Ugh, why, why did I eat that foul canned Christmas dinner again?!? Whyyyyy?!?”