'Twas the evening before Christmas, when all through the coven,
Not a creature was stirring, not even the rat that was being cooked in the oven;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicki soon would be there;

Louis and Lestat were nestled, all snug in their bed,
While Lestat had visions of God and the Devil dancing in his head;
And Armand in his silk pajamas, and Daniel in his cap,
Had just settled down to have some fun on top of the mat (shhh..!),

When out on the Rue Royale there arose such a clatter,
And Lestat sprung from the bed to see what "the hell is all that chatter?".
Away to the window he flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and off came his sash!

The moon-light glowed on his bare chest, the color of the new-fallen snow,
and Louis awoke and grabbed his lover and then they had a go,
When, what to their wondering ears should they hear,
But the sound of a violin outside the window,
accompanied by eight tiny reindeer!

With a young and handsome driver, playing a violin so lively and quickly,
Lestat and Louis scrambled to put their clothes back on and shouted, "It must be St. Nicki!"
More rapid than the time it took Lestat to cry out when he came ("Hey!"),
St. Nicki whistled, and shouted, and called the Coven by name:

"Now, Lestat! now, Louis! now, Armand the vixen!
Get on, DANIEL! get on MARIUS! get it on with
EVERYONE and get that blood a' MIXIN'!
Do it on the top of the porch!
Do it on the top of the wall!
Now everybody get DOWN and don't leave out Paul!!!"

As everyone found a partner, Louis let out a sigh.
Lestat was eyeing Armand a lot lately, and he wanted to know WHY!
So up into Lestat's boxer shorts Louis did travel;
and Lestat shouted with glee as he was unraveled.

And then, in a twinkling, Lestat did shout!
That Louis' hands were skilled he didn't have a doubt.
As he drew in his hand, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicki came with a bound.
He was dressed in the nude, from his head to his foot,
And his skin was all tarnished with ashes and soot;

A bundle of rope he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a mad man just waiting to attack.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
He looked awfully happy, but it was quite the contrary!
His stiff little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And he screamed at Lestat and called him a hoe;

In tears he yelled out and pulled Lestat underneith,
And then Louis freaked out and called St. Nicki a theif!
"This isn't even a Christmas poem anymore!" Louis said.
He then turned to Armand. "I thought Nicki was dead?"

Indeed, Nicki did die, by burning himself!
This here isn't Nicki, just one of Santa's demented elves!;
With a wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Armand soon saved the night and the Nicki-elf flead;
Lestat spoke not a word, but went straight to Louis,
whose emerald eyes were wet with tears, and dewy.
Armand wandered over to the stockings; then turned with a jerk.
And looked out at all the readers,
and flashed them a smirk.

"This wasn't even a Christmas poem!", he said slapping his knee.
"In fact, it make no sense at all, wouldn't you agree?"
So away all the vampires flew, back into the night,
leaving the readers not sure of what they just read,
and wondering of ways to tell the fic writer that she is crazy in a way that is poilte.
But it doesn't really matter,
cause this was just for fun,
God knows I had fun writing it, MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!!