From an off screen nararator we hear...

Twas late in October, a night covered in mist,
This story's a strange one, -- with an odd little twist;
I wasn’t invited, just there on a dare.
The back gate was open, thought nobody'd care.
I saw a black cat, heard howls from a hound,
I swear a strange noise, came up from the ground;
The floor started shaking, then something went crack,
upon looking around, the moon had turned black.

Then all of a sudden, the wind became silent.
I covered my head, afraid it'd be violent.
The stars in the heavens all started to flash.
Something rose from the earth and spit forth hot ash.
The scars on its breast from forgotten foes,
gave impressions of mayhem from horns to forked toes.
Surrounded by numerous flies it appeared.
It was a hideous beast, and looked really weird.

Twas the little old devil, once known as Old Nick,
I knew in a heartbeat, I soon would be sick.
More lethal than demons, his potions weren’t tame.
They oozed and they bubbled when he turned up the flame;
"Add, Toad! Add, Spider! Add, Wolfsbane! Then mix in;
Raven’s Claw! Tiger’s Paw! a donor named Blitzen!"
“To top off the potion, a newt, not too small,
dash of this, dash of that, a dash of it all.”

It simmered and shimmered, then turned shades of green
if you caught it just right, a hand could be seen
He took a small sip, then stirred the dark brew.
It looked like fresh fish or slimy gray goo.
Then in an instant, the cauldron went poof.
"This party just started!" barked the man with the hoof.
I gathered my courage, and looked all around
Mr. Hyde and his doctor rose up from the ground.
They were joined on their left, by a woman who put,
her husband's bones in a bag but was missing one foot.
A violin appeared from an old burlap sack,
joined on harmonica by a lantern named Jack.

The spirits -- they boogied! The wraiths were quite scary.
The decor was blood red, like the prom scene from Carrie.
Werewolf's jagged teeth had started to grow
and the hairs on his back were as black as a crow.
The stump of a leg kept time from beneath.
The skull of the bass player was missing some teeth.
He had one man's face and another man's belly.
You can read all about it in his bio by Shelley.

There was brimstone, and fire, and Old Scratch himself.
They gathered together, I was off by myself.
They stood in a circle, incantations were read,
The air full of tension plus the smell of the dead.
de Sade and Miss Borden were in the front row.
The Count and his henchman looked eager to go.
“A unicorn’s horn or perhaps some yak nose,
plus four or five pages of Edger Poe’s prose”

Afraid I’d be seen by a bat or a toad,
I took a dark path to a gate by the road.
I came round a corner, and met face to face
with a two headed ghoul, the pride of his race.
I was marched off in chains, to the foot of a throne.
It was like an old scene from the first Twilight Zone.
“I’ll give you three options”. Boomed a deep scary voice.
“You’ll pick your own sentence, you’ll make your own choice”.
“To be boiled in oil or to die by the sword
or live out your life, in the guise of a gourd”.

I picked number three and then took a step back,
his spells and his potions went on the attack.
My arms and my legs, began to swell and to itch.
Then every cell in my body started to twitch.
My heart began failing, lost my vital signs
I flat lined the moment my veins turned to vines.
The scene was grotesque, so I’ll spare you the worst,
But one thing I’ll say, skin hurts when it bursts.

The physical scars have since faded away.
The emotional ones, well, they’re here to stay.
This creature before you, now lives out his fate.
Doomed ever after to guard the back gate.
For one thing I’m grateful in spite of my plight
I no longer fear what goes bump in the night.

                                                Mark W Claunch

Here is a link to the original poem "A Visit From Saint Nick"
( aka Twas The Night Before Christmas )