T'was the night before Christmas, And all through the board.
The members slept quietly, (the fatter ones snored)
The spambots were weeping, the site was locked tight.
So none could ruin, this most holy a night

The Admins were tired, they slept floors above.
Having made the site safe, with labors of love.
The Mods were uneasy, the spam bots were smart.
A mod and his ban hammer, never apart.

At the first floor rested, the average joe.
All were safe and warm, from the spam bots and snow.
The members were trusting, they slept without fright
So none could ruin, this most holy a night

And just a floor below that, the basement hid.
It housed but one person, an overgrown kid.
Chains littered the floor, they sometimes kept him bound.
But not this night, and he awoke from a sound.

The window rattling, too small for the bots.
Red powder filled the room, and clouded his thoughts.
A red man then appeared, his smile was wide.
His nose a bright red, with a finger beside.

The kid grabbed his hammer, (a gift from above)
And he slammed down hard, for this job he did love.
In the dark he was blinded, he hit the light.
And he had ruined, this most holy a night.

For there on the ground, stood a sack at his feet.
Out his window he saw, a sleigh in the street.
"I just banned Santa" the kid started to cry.
He opened the sack up, and stifled a sigh.

Inside the big sack, was an outfit well known.
"I have to make it right", said he with a groan.
He put on the outfit, (To him was quite small)
He picked up the sack and went up to the hall.

He made not a noise, for the boots padded well.
Doors opened to him, freeing him from his Hell.
He chuckled at that, T'was a joke he held dear
"Hell; a place on the boards the others should fear".

The door opened, above a sign said just that
From the basement crept DoManta, red and fat.
He crept from the hole, and he eyed the first floor.
He looked for his list "They're all naughty for sure!"

He patted his pockets, and went round and round.
His pockets were empty, no list to be found.
With no list in his hand, a sack full of toys.
DoManta then went, to the room full of boys.

The room was quiet, And certain posters shone
"A life sized Phoenix Wright?," DoManta groaned.
He put the presents, at the feet of the beds.
He filled all the stockings, hung above their heads.

He shuffled out the door, the women were next.
"No Boys Allowed" did read the sign in pink text.
He ignored the sign (just like he always did)
He could always find where the panties were hid.

DoManta grinned, and he walked boldly inside.
It smelled very female, where women reside.
He pulled out the presents, and ate all their snacks.
And shuddered at the Yaoi's mountain-like stacks.

He waltzed out of the room, and up to the stairs.
Where mods had to open the doors while in pairs.
DoManta picked his nose, being lost in thought.
The doors opened, but his coat the handle caught.

He fell to the floor, as a hammer swung by.
"An auto ban hammer", said he with a sigh.
He took down the hammer, and reset the trap.
"If someone breaks in, they can't blame me for crap"

He got up the stairs, where fifteen beds sat round.
A crater in the middle, where the ban hammer pounds.
Some beds were empty, and their sheets were left cold.
"DeMat" read a filled one, in letters of gold.

He gave them their gifts, and went about his way.
And he looked outside, the sky was turning gray.
He climbed up a ladder, where the admins all sleep.
Croik, Woost and Gerk were dreamily counting sheep.

There were four gifts now, and but three beds to count.
He placed the three down, and questioned the amount.
He turned around, to see eyes light like a flame.
A mod with a hammer, who had hid their name.

He was sleepy, and really pissed off to boot.
And all DoManta had to say was "Oh shoot"
He awoke in the morning, his chains dug deep.
And he had been dragged to the basment to sleep.

His arms were bound tight, and his mouth was sewn shut.
Last night He must have had, one hell of a rut.
A present on the floor, right between his feet.
T'was red and shiny, with a bow to make neat.

He kicked it towards his hand, and tore it apart.
If he wasn't crying then, it might just start.
A picture of Maya, dressed up in a bow.
(I'll refrain from telling you, what else it showed.)

So he sat in the basement, and grinned all day.
While the others upstairs, had new games to play.
So that is the tale, of DoManta this year.
What he wants for Christmas, is perfectly clear.

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Ho ho no

Personally, I found it funny and well written. Not sure why it warranted a lock?

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Good effort but I'm confused as to what you are asking? :V

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*sniffs*
It was beautiful one day I will tell my children the story of DoManta Claus and their little eyes will light up with joy.

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*golf clap*

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If we get swarmed by spambots on the 24th, I will blame you for jinxing it.

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That's IF we survive the supposed apocalypse this Friday.

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DO YOU NOT SEE. THE BOTS ARE THE APOCALYPSE. THEY WILL COME TO FEAST ON OUR WORDS, LEAVING NOTHING BUT REGURGITATED OFFERS FOR KNOCK-OFF PURSE BRANDS AND CIALIS.

...Or, y'know, Friday will come and go and we'll still be talking about PL vs AA stuff and AA5 well into 2013.

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Woooooah!

I love you DoManta, don't ever forget it.

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Only the best for you guys. <3

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Okay, I love this. It really was beautifully done.

Ceres is officially CR's resident Grinch now! Haha :P

In any case, I feel special for getting mentioned. Thanks, DoMaya :)

Also thanks for not banhammering every single one of us when you had the chance.

*snort*

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It's not like I L-like you guys or anything.

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Fuckin' Humbug

That was... beautiful.

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Best poem EVER!!!!

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Best unintentional birthday gift ever.

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Made more appropriate considering your avatar.

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