How the Megs stole Christmas

Discussion in 'Transformers Fan Fiction' started by SilverBlade, Dec 21, 2011.

  1. SilverBlade

    SilverBlade Well-Known Member

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    How the Megs stole Christmas

    SilverBlade​

    Every bot in Botville liked Christmas a lot
    But the Megs, who lived just north of Botville, did not!
    The Megs hated Christmas! The whole Christmas season!
    Now please don’t ask why, no one quite knows the reason

    It could be his head wasn’t screwed on just right
    It could be, perhaps, he received as a gift, the movie Twilight
    But I think that the most likely reason of all,
    May have been that his spark was two sizes too small.

    Whatever the reason, his spark or the movie with a paper-thin plot
    He stood there on Christmas Eve, hating those Bots
    Staring down from his lair with a scour, Predy frown.
    At the warm lighted windows below in their town

    For he knew every Bot in Botville below
    Was busy now, with mountains of gifts in tow.
    “And they’re hanging their stocking!” he said with displeasure
    “Tomorrow is Christmas! Time for drastic measures!”

    Then he growled with his metallic fingers drumming.
    For tomorrow, he know all the Bot girls and boys
    Would wake bright and early. They’d rush for their toys!
    That’s the one thing he hated, was the noise, noise, noise

    And they’ll sing! And they’ll sing! And they’d sing! Sing! Sing! Sing!
    And the more the Megs thought of the Bot’s Christmas sing
    The more the Megs thought “I must stop this whole thing!”
    “For 400 years, I’ve put up with it now!
    I MUST stop this Christmas from coming, but how??”

    Then he got an idea, an awful idea.
    The Megs got a wonderful, awful idea!
    “I know what to do!” The Megs laughed from his throat
    And he quickly replicated a Santa Clause hat and a large red coat

    And he cackled and grinned “What a great Predy trick
    With this hat and coat, I’ll look just like Saint Nick!”

    You’re a mean one, Mr. Megs. You really are a con
    You’re as cuddly as a Sharkticon, you’re as charming as Alligatorcons
    Mr Megs! You’re about as bad Unicron!

    You’re a monster, Mr Megs. You’re spark is black, not blue.
    You’re brain is full of viruses, you make me want to spew.
    Mr Grinch! You give everyone the stomach flu!


    He pulled out a sleigh and some bags and old empty sacks
    He climbed into the chair “Time for some pay back.”
    The Megs tapped some buttons and the sleigh started down
    Towards the homes where the Bots slept in their town

    All the windows were dark. No one knew he was there.
    All the Bots were all dreaming sweet dreams without care.
    When he came to the first cybertronian house of the square.

    “This is stop number one.” The old Mega-Claus hissed
    As he climbed to the roof, empty bags in his fist.

    Then he slid down the chimney, a tight fight, it’s true
    But if Santa’s magic could do it, Cybertronian tech could too.

    He got stuck only once for a minute or two.
    Then he stick his head out of the fireplace flue

    Where the little Bot stockings hung in a row.
    “These stockings” he hissed. “Are the first things to go..”

    Then he hovered and maneuvered, hoping not to make a sound
    Around the whole room, he took every present around!

    Data pads, Monitors, digital music players and holo-games
    Cleaning drones, computers, TV’s and digital picture frames.

    And the stuffed them in bags. Then the Megs, surprisingly nimbly,
    Stuffed all the bags, one by one, up the chimney.

    You’re a vile one, Mr Megs. You must have spiders in your dreams
    You have all the tender sweetness of a rampaging Starscream
    Mr Grinch! Given the choice between the two of you, I’d take the rampaging Starscream!

    You’re a rotter, Mr. Megs. You’re the king of sinful thoughts
    You’re spark’s a dead engine with red rusty spots
    Mr. Megs! You’re a three decker sauerkraut and toadstool sandwich with arsenic sauce!
    Then he hovered to the fridge. He took the Bot’s feast!
    He took the cyber-pudding, and the roasted beast!

    He cleaned out the fridge as quick as a flash
    Why, that Megs even smoked the last puff of the Bot hash!

    Then he stuffed all the food and up the chimney with glee.
    “Now!” grinned the Megs. “I will stuff up the tree!”

    As the Megs took the tree, as he started to shove,
    He heard a small sound like a coo from a dove.

    He turned around fast and he saw a small Bot.
    Little Wheelie. “This annoying young one” he thought.

    He stared at the Megs and said “Santa Clause, why
    Are you taking our tree during your fly-by?”

    But you know, that old Megs was so smart and slick
    He thought up a lie, and pretty damned quick

    “Why my rhyming little Wheelie” the fake Santa Clause lied
    “There’s a light on this tree that seems to have died

    So I’m taking it home to my workshop, rhyming one,
    I’ll fix it up there, and I’ll bring it back before the rising of the sun”

    And his fib fooled Wheelie, then he patted his back
    He got him a drink, and sent him to his sack.

    When Wheeie was in bed with his cup
    He crept to the chimney and stuffed the tree up.

    Then he went up the chimney himself, the old liar
    And the last thing he took was the log for the fire
    On their walls he left nothing but hooks and bare wire.

    Then he did the same thing to other Bot’s dwellings
    Leaving nothing but crumbs, can’t even be called shellings

    You nauseate me, Mr. Megs. With a nauseous super ‘naus’
    You’re a crooked dirty jockey whom I want to slice with claws
    Mr Grinch! You’re spark is an appalling dump heap and no regard to any laws!

    It was a quarter of dawn, all the Bot still in bed
    All the Bots still snoozing, when he packed up his sled,

    Packed it up with their presents, their ribbons and their wrappings
    Their games and their computers, their iPads and their trappings

    Ten thousand feet up, on the side of Mount Con
    He rode with his load to the top. Once the lead is released, it’s going to be gone.

    “For too long I’ve fought those Bots!” he was humming
    “They’re finding out now that no Christmas is coming!

    “They’re just waking up now, I know what they’ll do!
    They’re mouths will hang open for a minute or two.
    Then the Bots down in Botville will cry. My justice was far overdue!”

    “That’s a noise!” grinned the Megs. “I simply must hear!”
    He paused and the Megs put a hand to his ear.

    But this sound wasn’t very sad
    Why, this sound he heard, sounded glad

    Every Bot in Botville, the short to the bold
    Was singing without the wrapping to unfold

    He hadn’t stopped Christmas from coming. It came!
    Somehow or other, it came just the same!

    And the Megs, with his metallic feet in the snow
    Stood puzzling and puzzling “How can this be so?

    It came without touch screen. It came without apps
    It came without packages, boxes, or wraps!”

    He puzzled and puzzled, till his puzzler was sore.
    Then the Megs thought of something he hadn’t before

    Maybe Christmas, he thought, can’t be purchased from a store
    Maybe Christmas, perhaps, means so much more.

    And what happened then? Well, in Botville they say
    That the Meg’s spark grew three sizes that day!

    And then the true meaning of Christmas came through
    And the Megs found the strength of ten ‘Cons..plus two

    And now that his spark didn’t feel quite so tight
    He whizzed with his load through the bright morning light

    With a smile on his spark, he descended Mount Con
    Cheerily blowing “Bots! Bots!” while they looked on.

    He road into Botville. He brought back their toys
    He brought back their gifts to the girls and boys

    He group back their iPads, screens and games
    Brought back their apps, movies and digital frames

    He brought everything back, all the food for the feast
    And he, himself, the Megs carved the roast beast

    Welcome Christmas, Bring you cheer
    Cheer to all Bots, far and near

    Christmas Day is in our grasp,
    So long as he have hands to grasp

    Christmas Day will always be
    Just as long as we decree

    Welcome Christmas while we stand
    Spark to spark, and hand in hand
     
  2. Jazzfan0217

    Jazzfan0217 Just chillin'

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    Love it, ya did a really good job on this. Especially with the parts describing mr. Megs, it had me :lol ing hard.
     

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