Scratch

You should go to sleep otherwise Santa will think your naughty staying up all night.
It's lunch time for me on Christmas. Only 12 hours until Boxing Day yay.

stevetheipad wrote:

sportsdude6 wrote:

Only 56 more mins till Xmas in est!

I dont think Christmas will be so great for me this year. I'm disappointed by my presents and the stress involved.

Disappointed by things you're getting? That seems ungrateful.

3 more hours
14 minutes less than 3 hours if you wanna get technical

Sent this to my friends via email lolz
I didn't want to make a new topic so I'll just put it on here, since it is a Christmas topic


It was the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. This was owing to the fact that Miss Nesbit had set up rat traps. Miss Nesbit, herself, dozed in an armchair with the suspicious odor of coffee and smoke. Not that Miss Nesbit smoked. Oh no. That would be a bad role model for the kiddies. No, Miss Nesbit just set fire to the armchair whenever she felt inexplicable rage, then doused it when she felt calmer. Lucky the armchair was dry and not on fire.
So like anyway, there was a thump on the roof and Miss Nesbit's eyes opened slightly-ish-kind-of. 'Now there's that Nick Claus,' she said to herself. 'Aha!' There was fire on the hearth, naturally.
'Nick Claus,' she realized, 'does not come in unless everyone's asleep!' So she faked a very convincing sleep.
But Santa didn't come.
'It's impossible I'm on the naughty list...,' she murmured. 'After all, I did hack into Santa's computer and change up a few files. There's no way.' She settled in a sleeplike pose.
But Santa didn't come.
'What a thickhead! I suppose he can't fit himself down the chimney, no less!' Miss Nesbit said, forgetting to feign sleep.
'Oh Miss Nesbit, is that you?' came a somewhat anxious voice from the rooftop.
'Aha!'
'I'll take it it is you,' said Santa, dryly. 'But... why are you here? Aren't you due for a Christmas party to-morrow?'
'On the morrow, yes! But I can go there early next morning,' Miss Nesbit replied, folding her arms. 'What's the business waiting up there, Nick? And why are you speaking to me? What's with the lack of secrecy? You're a CIA agent, you know.'
'Now how can you prove that?' said Santa a bit snappishly.
'Oh please, Santa. "He knows when you've been sleeping... he knows when you're awake..." it should be obvious to the layman. And I'm no layman, let me tell you.'
Santa sighed. 'There's no argument in that. You'd be a wonderful detective if nothing else.'
Ah, thought Miss Nesbit. 'Well, no time wasting! You shall report to my Christmas tree,' Miss Nesbit said. 'Leave the gifts a bit to the left, if you don't mind--I don't fancy tripping over my own presents, do you?'
'Dear me, no,' murmured Santa. 'It's just that... well, um,' he stalled.
'Go on,' prompted Miss Nesbit.
'Well,' Santa said, falteringly, 'it's just that I am trapped in the s-sleigh!' he howled.
Miss Nesbit blinked.
'I--I knew I shouldn't've eaten such a frightful amount of fruitcake!' he babbled. 'But Mrs. Claus just has this astounding recipe and I...I...'
'Oh pull yourself together!' Miss Nesbit rather crossly snuffed out the fire and clambered up the chimney. By the time she got up to the roof she was coughing and covered in soot. Indeed, a very fat Santa was wedged between the seat and the bulging sack of toys. 'And how many houses have you visited yet?' she said sternly.
'Only one hundred or so.'
'Looks like it!' She peered at the overlarge bag.
'But I haven't delivered to anyone!'
'How not?' said Miss Nesbit incredulously.
'Nobody else was awake,' sighed Santa. 'They quite rightly sleep while I go about my work... so's nobody could help me. I was trapped. I... I...!' He was suddenly unintelligible because of the amount of wailing he was doing.
'Enough of that!' said Miss Nesbit sharply, 'I'm here now, aren't I?'
'I suppose you are.' Santa sniffled. He was shaking like a bowl full of jelly. Miss Nesbit shuddered at the over sentimentality.
'Right,' she said briskly. 'No time to lose. I'll climb in that sleigh with you, then, and I suppose I shall leave all the gifts instead of you.'
'Thank you... I shall forever be grateful... I...'
'Now start driving this sleigh!'
There was a pause. It seemed that Rudolph's nose had gone out. 'Oh bother,' said Miss Nesbit, and fixed a flashlight on his head, which wobbled unsteadily. It seemed that should be all, yes? But it wasn't, because Vixen was red-eyed and foaming at the mouth. Miss Nesbit gave the reindeer a mug of hot cocoa, which seemed to put it right. And so off they flew!
Miss Nesbit delivered, with no trouble, the following:
First, a chicken for Donald, aged five
A snorkle for Anna, so she might dive
A kazoo for young Lina and Tom to share
For James Wilson, one brown teddy bear.
Next came Sara's book of frogs,
For Ellen came a few toy dogs.
Then Petey got a laptop (Mac),
For Mary one mouse (black)--
Then Miss Nesbit, weary of these gleeful scenes, delivered to Joey Bean a lump of coal. She smiled a satisfied smile. That was the last peaceful delivery before Jacques. Jacques was a little French boy who unfortunately had chosen to stay up late and play on his sister's X-Box. Jacques, upon seeing Miss Nesbit, shrieked 'SANTA!' Then his face fell. 'Well you're not Santa!'
'No, I'm not,' agreed Miss Nesbit, 'and gladly so! I wouldn't like to be a fruitcake-eating guy in red, would you???'
Jacques shrieked 'GIMME THE TOYS GIMME!!!!'
'Go to bed, Jacques! I have a job to do!' said Miss Nesbit. 'On a minimum wage of milk and cookies at that!'
'GIMME... THE... TOYS!' said Jacques, hyperventilating.
Miss Nesbit fought to urge to throw a glass of milk at him. This, said Santa, defied the code of conduct. 'I can't leave any presents til you get away, Jacques!'
'NO... NO... NO!' screamed Jacques, 'NOW!!'
'Uh, what? Look, I just won't give you any gifts then!' Miss Nesbit said. 'Serves you right too.'
Jacques kicked the Christmas tree over. 'GIMME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!111!!!!one!!!!!!!!!!!!!eleven!!!'
Miss Nesbit clambered up the chimney stealthily and got back in the sleigh. 'What a brat,' she said. They flew off. Suddenly Jacques's head popped up over the sack.
'What the--? How'd that creepy kid get in here?!' Santa cried out.
'I'm not sure,' said Miss Nesbit, grimly. 'Which house is his, again?'
'I don't know! I've dropped the list!' shrieked Santa, now quite overexcited.
'No you haven't. I've got it,' said Jacques obnoxiously. 'GIMME MY GIFT. And you'll get the list back!!'
'But,' said Miss Nesbit, at a loss.
Jacques stayed there, though. Miss Nesbit managed to take the list, but he pestered them continually over the next thousand houses. And the next. It was marvelous how Santa managed not to feed him to Vixen, who was acting a little strange again. Miss Nesbit had no such tolerance. So at Olive Stranger's house, she said cleverly 'Come with me, Jacques--I have to show you something.'
'What is it?' said Jacques, suspiciously.
'Something cool. It's in their closet.'
So Jacques came, and he looked. Miss Nesbit munched the cookies and delivered the presents.
'I can't find any presents in this closet!' Jacques whined.
Miss Nesbit slammed the door and ran back up to the roof. 'FLY!' she cried.
'Where's Jacques?' said Santa.
'Oh him,' said Miss Nesbit. 'I locked him in the Strangers' closet.' (Hey, that last name turned out to be fitting, didn't it?'
'In the house of Strangers' in the middle of the night in a different country?!' cried Santa.
'Yes.'
'Why, that's brilliant,' said Santa, exhausted and full of fruitcake at any rate. 'FLY!'
And dash away, dash away, dash away all.

Its 11:57 on 25 December here.

Last edited by DarkerWorld (2011-12-25 04:58:18)

20:33 here. It's almost over. It was good, nothing really exciting. Had fun smashing the ball in totem tennis.

Here too!
Where are you? I'm in hershey pensilvania