It's nearly Christmas (wow the year flew by) and it's time for another Call of Duty spin on the classic Clement Moore poem, The Night Before Christmas.
Enjoy and have a safe and merry Christmas.
Cheers,
RAN
Cheers,
RAN
‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the net
The COD vets were smiling from the kills they would get
Headsets were charged with a battery to spare
Knowing new greenies soon would be there
The kiddies were dreaming of streaks in their heads
When they should have been filled with thoughts of dread
Support streaks were easy, a total breeze
Of course they’ll still come with absolute ease
With nary a word, he bounds down the stair
Knowing for certain his copy was there
He tears it wide open, his eyes all a light
So ready to dominate his first firefight
His console whirred, the screen popped to life
Maybe he’ll run with just a gun and a knife
That’s all he keeps seeing from vids on YouTube
So, it must be that simple, for he is no noob
Who needs combat training, I played the first one
I’ll show those old vets this time how it’s done
He made his first pick ten but stopped it at nine
So certain his skill would make it all fine
“On semtex! On flashbang! On old hand grenade!”
With so many choices, he had it made
And he couldn’t believe it, like a gift from heaven
They let him start out with a freaking MP7
He whips out his pistol and flies off in a dash
Getting ready to throw out that very first flash
When over the building and out of the sky
A ‘nade hit his chest, he was the first die
No worries he thinks as he changes his class
I’ll just equip Ghost and camp off my ass
Sit in this corner and aim at this door
And wait for the bodies to litter the floor
“Enemy UAV is up!” The announcer would say
Yet flat on his belly he continued to lay
Right up until he was shot through the wall
So certain that he would slaughter them all
So sick of being killed by some guy who’s named Tom
He switches from Deathmatch and loads up some Dom
“I’ll show you what’s up, I’m gonna sprint straight to B
No way you vets will get the better of me!”
He rounds the brick wall with B just in sight
When suddenly time slows, he’s not moving quite right
The concussion wave strikes him and holds him in place
As the vet calmly shoots him, two times in the face
The same thing keeps happening, over and over
Until finally he dies by a puppy named Rover
The game finally ends, his jaw drops to the floor
Only 300 points was his pitiful score
The vet he leans back and cracks open a beer
His morning complete and full of good cheer
5600 points for the game was not bad
And boy was that greenie sure as hell mad
The Christmas Noob simply doesn’t get how it’s done
For playing Call of Duty is meant to be fun
Laughing out loud and knowing he’s right
“Merry Christmas to all, and to vets a good night!”
