With Hanukkah off to a great start and Christmas following quickly behind, it is time to reflect on this past year, and it’s good and bad moments. What did you learn? What did you experience? What are you looking forward to? All these important questions wrap our minds, leading us inevitably to resolutions we may or may not keep. No matter what your hopes and fears for 2015, remember to remember each other. Call old friends. Spend time with loved family. There is no telling what tomorrow brings.
As I will be celebrating my traditional take on Christmas with eggnog and a tin of Danish butter cookies next week followed by drunken debauchery and embarrassing photos the week after, I wanted to leave you all with my present to you. Happy whatever celebration you celebrate and an even happier 2015!
A Visit from St. Stitcholas
BY DRMDESTRYR (with a little help from Kyle)
'Twas the night before Stitchmas, when all through the core
Not a hero was stirring, not even a Thor;
Each merc camp was snoring away without care,
In hopes that St. Stitcholas soon would be there.
The heroes were nestled all snug in their beds;
While visions of victories danced in their heads;
With Valla in her hoodie, and Chen in his cap,
They’d just rested their weapons for a long winter's nap,
When out on the map there arose such a clatter,
They sprang from their beds to see what was the matter.
Away to the lanes they flew like a storm,
Tore open the gates and blew on the horn.
The moon on the garden of terror and rose,
Gave a silvery sheen to all seedlings exposed,
When what should come hurdling ‘cross the terrain,
But a gigantic hook and eight feet of chain,
With a chubby old blighter so lively and thick,
They knew in a moment it must be St. Stitch.
More rapid than Kael'thas to alpha he came,
And he gurgled, and shouted, and called them by name:
"Out Raynor! come Uther,! come Jaina, Tassadar!
Out, Nova! out Tychus! out Li Li, and Rehgar!
Me go to core! Me go to wall!
Stitches want give ‘way something for all!"
As heroes that before the wild hook shot do fly,
When they see it cooled down, run from his eye;
So down to the mid lane on coursers they flew
To a sight full nothing, no St. Stitcholas in view—
And then, in a crashing, they heard on the grass
The pounding and slapping of each vile smash.
As they poked out their heads, to spot the weird sound,
Down the center St. Stitcholas came with a bound.
He was made up of skins, from his head to his toes,
And his hooks were all tarnished with blood from his foes;
A bundle of gore he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a monster still searching for snacks.
His eyes—how they twinkled! his nipples, how merry!
His cheeks were like corpses, his nose rather scary!
Out his droll little mouth was his tongue hanging low,
And the slime from his chin dripped green and it glowed;
The stumps of some teeth held tight in his ‘mach*,
And the mouth, it encircled his gut like a ‘lacc*;
He had a broad face and a huge floppy belly
That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of s’ghetti.
He was chubby and saggèd, had some right horrid smells,
And they shuddered when they saw him, in spite of themselves;
A twitch of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave them to know they had nothing to dread.
He spoke broken words as he went straight to his work;
Passing presents to each; then turned with a jerk,
And spinning his cleaver aside of his bowels,
He hearthed back to mid lane shaking his jowls;
He sprang to his mount, to his horse gave a laugh,
And away he raced off like some big, awkward mass.
But they heard him exclaim, ere he rode out of sight—
“All Happy Christmas! Me want no more fight!”
*'mach: stomach *'lacc: Sarlacc
Ask DrmDestryr is your weekly Q&A/advice column for Heroes of the Storm. Have a question for DrmDestryr? E-mail her your mental musings at email@example.com or send happy twoughts her way @DrmDestryr.