‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house. Not a creature was stirring. Not even a mouse.

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that Saint Nick soon would be there.

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, a single creature stirred. And it wasn’t a mouse.

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care. Yet the one they hoped was not the one there.

With horns of a ram and hooves of a moose. With claws perfect for pulling your teeth loose.

‘Twas not St. Nick who was there. ‘Twas an evil one here to make all fair.

Sorry for the long bio, but I had the idea for the poem and had to write it.

Anyway, Krampus bot. You don’t believe in Santa, but you’re the one in the family that still tries to keep the cheer.

What’s that jingling on the roof?