It was the night before Christmas, all throughout zone not a player was playing, not even a mouse. The gralats were purchased by players who cared, in hopes that a shop would be there.
The players were snuggled all in there beds, while visions of weapons and furniture danced around in their heads. And silver in his thong, and I in my blouse, had settled our brains for a long nap. When out on the forums there arose such a clatter. I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the forums I flew like a flash, tore open the threads and prepared to bash. The moon on the breast of my new tablet glowed. Gave the Lustre of mid day light to appear. When what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a minature sleigh and 8 admins.
With a little skinny driver, so fast and quick, which resembled to me an anorexic kid. I knew in a moment it must be St.Blackfires. more rapid than eagles, his Admins they came, and he whistled and shouted and called them by name.
"Now Rosewald, now Tay, Now Oblivion and Avril, on Paladin, on homeless witch, on Thomas and Angel. To the top of the forums, to the top of the shops. Now disappoint, dissapoint, dissapoint all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild spaceships fly, when they meet with a player mount to the sky, so up to the forums and shops the courses they flew, with a sleigh full of sadness, and blackfires too!