Christmas Eve In Brooklyn
by Joe Quesada and Jimmy Palmiotti
To be read with a heavy/tough guy Italian accent.
'Twas the night before Christmas,
Da whole house was mellow,
Not a creature was stirrin',
I had a gun unda my pillow.
When up on da roof,
I heard somethin' pound,
I sprung to da window,
To scream, "Ay keep it down!"
When what to my
Wanderin' eyes should appear,
But dat hairy elf Vinny,
And eight freggin' reindeer.
Wit' a bad hackin' cough,
And the stencha burped beer,
I knew in a moment,
Yo, da Kringle wuz here!
Wit' a slap to dere snouts,
And a yank on dere manes,
He cursed and he shouted,
And called dem by name.
Yo Tony, Yo Frankie,
Yo Sally, Yo Vito,
Ay Joey, Ay Paulie,
Ay Pepe, Ay Guido!
As I drew out my gun
And hid by da bed,
Down came his friggin' boot
On da top a my head.
His eyes were all bloodshot,
His b.o. wuz scary,
His breath wuz like sewage,
He had a mole dat wuz hairy.
He spit in my eye,
And he twisted my head.
He soon let me know
I should consider myself dead.
Den pointin' a fat finga
Right unda my nose,
He let out some gas,
And up da chimney he rose.
He sprang to his sleigh,
Obscenities screamin',
And away dey all flew,
Before he troo dem a beatin'.
But I heard him exclaim,
Or better yet grump,
Merry Christmas to all, and
Bite me, ya hump!