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240 No. 240
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the abode

Not a creature was stirring, not even a fae;

The braces were set by the doorway with care,

In case she had to make a midnight dash there;

Keine Kamishirasawa was snug in her bed,

While dreams of having working legs danced in her head;

Much without feeling, long after the bones snapped,

She had just settled down for a long winter's nap,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

She fell out of bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window she crawled with panache,

Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow

Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,

When, what to her wondering eyes should appear,

But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,

With a little fairy driver, all covered in snow,

Goddamnit she'd got to drinking. Fucking Cirno.

More rapid than eagles her curses they came,

Keine let loose a torrent of profanity, some in God's name;

"Cirno's gotten into my liquor and gotten hammered!

I was saving that for tomorrow, God damn her!

I'll have to stop her before she drinks it all!”

Away to her wheelchair Cripple Keine did crawl.

As rocks that flow down a waterfall sometimes fly into the air,

Keine did fall down her house's two flights of stairs,

She picked herself up and levered back into her wheelchair with a grumble,

Every time she wanted to go downstairs she took a wicked tumble.

And then, in a twinkling, she heard on the roof

The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.

Royally pissed, and preparing to crawl back up,

Down the chimney fell Cirno, with a beer, in a full cup.

She was dressed all in fur, from her head to her foot,

And her clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;

A bottle of Vodka in her other hand,

She took a swig as she attempted to stand.

Her eyes -- how unfocused! Keine's alcohol she carried!

Her cheeks were like roses, her nose like a cherry!

Her mouth drew back in a gasp-

As she realized she had fallen into the lair of the asp.

Keine growled as she went for the headbutt,

Towards Cirno she dragged herself, denied the use of her foot;

Cirno scrambled away from certain death, slowly approaching,

She realized that upon Keine's alcohol she had been encroaching.

Comprehension dawned, and Cirno laughed quite in spite of herself,

She remembered Keine was a cripple, and had no way of catching her, until Keine levered onto a shelf;

A wink of Keine's eye and a twist of her head,

If Cirno had been slower, surely she would have been dead.

The sword only missed her by a bit,

For she had just jumped back from where Keine had happened to sit.

Quick as a flash, Cirno jumped up and poked Keine in the eyes,

And pushed her off her shelf, knocked her from her rise.

As Cirno ran off with Keine's alcohol tears sprang to Keine's eyes,

Alone in the house, on the floor, she cries.

But she heard Cirno exclaim, ere she vaulted over the ditch,

”Got you good, you old crippled cow-bitch.”

Coming soon: The Paraplegic that stole Christmas!
>> No. 241
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241
>mine litso
>> No. 245
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245
Needs more drawn-out fight scenes.
>> No. 246
I have never before wanted to kill crino... well done
>> No. 247
>SolusLunes
>Keine
No thanks.
>> No. 248
>>247
Then... why would you even go to the trouble of posting anyway?
>> No. 249
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249
>>248
Some people think that their opinion are so important and world-shaking that everyone must know about them disliking a story.
>> No. 251
>>249
Oh, don't be so dramatic.
>> No. 252
>>251
I love being over-dramatic about things. That makes them interesting. If I just said "he's giving his opinion because he thinks that's important", that would have been dull. Instead of that, saying "he thinks that his opinion is so world shaking and full of AWESOME now with 20% cooler radioactive isotopes that he has the divine duty to shares it with everyone" makes the whole fight post funnier.


In my opinion, anyway.
>> No. 257
Sir, your work amuses me greatly, but I have this horrible urge to hijack-edit it in order to fix the meter. Syllable count is important for this kind of parody.
>> No. 258
>>257
Man there was only so much effort I was willing to put forth for this, and fixing the meter was faaaaaaaaaaar beyond it. You are more than welcome to if your OCD compels you, though.
>> No. 264
Note to everyone: Keine is a name of two syllables. Which really only matters for poem parodies like this.

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through that day

Not a creature had stirred, no, not even a fae;

The braces were set by the doorway with care,

In case she had to make a midnight dash there;

Keine Kamishirasawa, snug in her bed,

Let sweet visions of working legs dance in her head;

Much without feeling, long after the bones had snapped,

She had just settled down for a long winter's nap,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

She fell out of bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window she crawled with panache,

Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow

Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,

When, what to her wondering eyes should appear,

But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,

With a little blue driver, all covered in snow,

Goddamnit she'd reached the booze. Fucking Cirno.

More rapid than eagles her curses they came,

Keine let loose a torrent of bleeps in God's name;

"Cirno's gotten into my booze and gotten hammered!

I was saving that for tomorrow, God damn her!

I'll have to stop her before she drinks it all!”

And to her wheelchair Cripple Keine did crawl.

As drops off a waterfall arc through midair,

Keine dropped down her house's two flights of stairs,

She levered into her wheelchair with a grumble,

Those damn stair always gave her a wicked tumble.

And then, in a twinkling, she heard on the roof

The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.

Royally pissed, and preparing to crawl back up,

Down the chimney fell Cirno, with a full beer-cup.

She was dressed all in fur, from her head to her foot,

And her clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;

A bottle of Vodka in her other hand,

She took a great swig and attempted to stand.

Her eyes unfocused --- Keine's liquor she carried!

Her cheeks were like roses, her nose like a cherry!

Her mouth's corners widened, drew back in a gasp-

She knew she was now in the lair of the asp.

Keine growled as she went in for the headbutt,

Towards Cirno she dragged herself, by hand, not foot;

Cirno scrambled away from death slowly approaching,

She realized upon whose booze she was encroaching.

And then Cirno laughed, quite in spite of herself,

As Keine levered herself up onto a shelf;

A wink of Keine's eye and a twist of her head,

If Cirno had been slower, she would have been dead.

The sword only missed her by one tiny bit,

For she had jumped back from where Keine did sit.

Swiftly, Cirno jumped up and poked her in the eyes,

And pushed her off of her shelf, down from her rise.

As Cirno ran away tears sprang to Keine's eyes,

Alone in the house, on the floor, she cries.

But she heard Cirno shout, vaulting over the ditch,

”Got you good, you beer-hogging old crippled cow-bitch.”


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