13. I hope your apple pie was frakking worth it!

[krickets]

I had to modify a bit cause of my poor planning skills

'Twas the Night Before Christmas

'Twas 33 minutes before Christmas, and all through laura roslin's rack,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a cylon.
The pants were hung by the tool box with care,
In hopes that St. Kara "starbuck" thrace soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their file cabinets,
While visions of sugar-bananas danced in their hands.
And my non-biological robot sister in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my viper to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
boogied open the shutters, and slow-clapped up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave the luster of mid-right frakking now to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear?
But a cylon-ish eye patch, and eight tiny weiner dogs.

With a little old driver, so lively and sticky,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Kara "starbuck" thrace.
More rapid than vultures her weiner dogs they came,
And she whistled, and frakked, and called them by name;

"Now, Dasher! Now, President Roslin! Now, Toaster and Vixen!
On, Viper Jock ! On Knuckledraggers! On, Bucket and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! To the top of the pyramid ball!
Now complain away! Complain away! Complain away all!"

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof,
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the tool box St. Kara "starbuck" thrace came with a bound.

Her eyes -- how they colluded! Her dimples, how smarmy !
Her lips were like bottles of ambrosia, Her bicep like an altoid box!

She spoke not a word but went straight to her work,
And filled all the pants, then turned with a jerk.
And laying her neck aside of her mouth,
And giving a nod, up the tool box she rose.

She sprang to her sleigh, to her team gave a sigh,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard her exclaim, as she drove out of sight,
"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good 33 minutes!"



&



The Odyssey
By Homer
Ultra-Condensed by Samuel Stoddard and David J. Parker

Anders
I rule.

Apollo
For your sin of man!pain, I molest you for all eternity.

(Cylon-ish, Anders boards his ship and sets sail for Laura Roslin's rack, where his frak buddy is awaiting his return from Caprica City. A storm happens, and it drives them off course into the Mediterranean, where they come upon a sticky land owned by the giant Cyclops, Kara "Starbuck" Thrace, who eats some of the men all up, but then they collude. Still lost, they run into the nuclear wasteland of the sorceress President Laura Roslin who turns some of Anders' men into bottles of ambrosia, and it takes 33 minutes before they escape, and then they sail by some singing viper jocks, but they can't hear because they have stuff in their ears. Then they come upon Bill Adama's face where there is a tundra of eye patches, and they all get high, until Anders says it's time to frak. Then Anders' men let a wind out of an empty scotch bottle, and some more men die. And they sail on to Hades to talk to some dead people, and some more men die. And they steer the ship between the sixty-blugillion-headed monster, Number Six, and the smarmy whirlpool Billy Keikaya, and Number Six makes some more men die, and Billy Keikaya makes the rest of them die. Then the ship busts up into a jillion pieces, but Anders is groped by the nymph Leoben Conoy who confines him to his river delta because he thinks he's fuzzy, and he wants his bicep. Then years later he lets him go, but Apollo is determined to wallop him further. And then suddenly Anders has an idea.)

Anders
Apollo, I am sorry.

Apollo
Ok, you can go home now.

(Anders goes home.)

THE END

courtesy crazylibs