'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the base.
Gendo Ikari sat thinking, hands folded under his face.

The EVAs sat in their hangars with care,
in the hopes that no Angels would draw them from there.

The Elites were nestled all snug in their beds.
While visions of Target battles raged in their heads.
Snake in his box, and Ash in his cap,
had just settled down for a long Winter's nap.
When outside New Washington there arose such a clatter,
the Union deployed to see what the HELL was the matter.
Off to the battlefield they flew in a flash!
EVAs, Gundams, Gunbusters! Why even Vash!
The radar and sonar and thermals scanned fast!
Illuminating the readouts with actions present and past!
When what to the wondering Elites should appear?

But Doom on a red sleigh, battling a a red-suited man!
With a beard as white as fresh driven snow!
It had to be Santa, I knew, I know!
Doom seemed to be winning, but not for long!
Santa's epic attack, rang out with a song!
"Come Dasher! Come Dancer! Come, Prancer and Vixen!
Come Comet! Come Cupid! Come Donner and Blitzen!
Trample him now and trample him fast!
Dash away with my sleigh and pull us right past!"
The dust was kicked up as the reindeer were summoned!
Doom let out a cry and was quite deftly flattened!
Off to the night sky, the red sleigh departed.
Doom coughed behind his mask and said wearily 'I think one of them farted'

And on everyone's roof, or spaceship hull.
The prancing of hoofs let out a clatter dull!
As I drew my pistol and whirled around,
St Nicholas came down my chimney with a bound.
He held in his hand a Beretta and let out a sooty cough!
"Well Psyber" He said "We have a Mexican Standoff"
"Indeed, Red Man" I said in a flat tone,
"We do this every year, yet you persist to visit my home"
With his other hand, he opened his pack,
Removing the satchel from off of his back.
His eyes, how they twinkled as he dropped the first box,
My thoughts pensively thinking 'I always forget chimney locks'
His mouth was drawn up in a cocky grin,
This year once more, he knew he would win.
Our pistols held high, our gazes both flat.
I said to him softly, "You could have at least wiped your feet on the mat"
He laughed and cajoled as his belly shook hearty,
"What, and miss this little Christmas party?"
He dropped several more parcels, our guns clearly leveled.
My office, as always, looked quite disheveled.
With a wink of his eye, his thumb drew back the hammer.
I said not a word, not even a stammer.
Guns trained between us, he filled up the stockings.
His grin was so cocky, it almost was mocking.
Finally fed up, I pulled my trigger with haste,
But with a wink of his eye, I knew it was a waste.
He put a finger on his nose and a gave a jolly grin
As my bullet smashed the wall just behind of him.
"I'll see you next year" he said as he rose up the chimney.
While I wondered why the fat man chose to torment me.

And I heard him exclaim as his sled flew away,

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