A Christmas Poem by DebiC

A Christmas Poem
By DebiC

Jack O'Neill was scribbling on a piece of paper when the rest of the team came into the briefing room for the pre-mission briefing with General Hammond. The UAV had sent back some interesting highlights of the new planet and Carter and Jackson were anxious to go and explore what it had found. But as they settled around the table, their attention was caught by O'Neill's enthusiastic literary efforts.

"Jack," Daniel inquired "Jack what are you doing?"

"If you must know, it's Christmas." O'Neill responded. "I'm writing a Christmas Poem

"A Christmas Poem?

"Yea, based on The Night Before Christmas."

"Why are you plagiarizing it? Why not write a new one?"

"Cause I tried and I can't okay. But I can do this."

"Let's see it." Daniel made a grab for the paper but O'Neill's lightning reflexes kept it out of the younger man's hands.

"Nope, not ready yet." Jack responded.

"Well, read it to us Sir. Maybe we can help."

"Okay, if you insist." An evil grin appeared on his handsome features. (He knew his team were suckers for anything he 'didn't' want them to see.) It's a rewrite of It Was The Night Before Christmas but it's SGC style.

"Jack is this a good idea?" Daniel worried.

"Probably not." Jack's evil grin lighted on him. "But it's all I got...so live with it!

He then started to read:

Twas the night before Christmas and all through the mountain
Not a creature was stirring. Except Davis, he was countin' (the pencils and
pens cause it was the end of the year and he had to do inventory before Dec
31 but that's a different story all together.)

"Where was I, oh yea."

The Scientists were huddled, all snug in their beds
While visions of Naquadah danced in their heads.
Daniel with his scarab, Carter with her ion powered thingy
Teal'c is in his quarters, doing Kel-nor-reemy.

"Jack, that's bad poetry."

"Daniel, I'm a bad poet. Surprise, surprise."

With the General in his class A's and me in my cap,
We had just settled down for long winters' nap
When from the Stargate, we heard such a clatter
That I jumped up out of my office to see what was the matter.
Away to the viewing glass I flew like a flash
Tore open the curtains and threw out the trash

"The what Jack?"

"The trash, Daniel. You know what trash is?"

"Yea, what you're doing to this poem."

The glow of the wormhole on the Gate room floor
Gave the luster of mid-day to the SF's at the door
When what to my wondering eye should appear?
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer
With a little old driver, as lively as an otter
I knew in a moment it must be Jake Carter.

"Sir!"

"Deal with it, Major, it's hard to rhyme with Carter."

More rapid then A-10s, his coursers they came
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name.

"How fast is an A-10 Jack?"

"What?"

"How fast is an A-10?"

"It's a jet fighter, Daniel. It's pretty damn fast, okay."

"Just wondering, I mean is it faster than a death glider?"

"Noooo, probably not. I'm not sure, Okay. But I don't want a death glider in a Christmas poem, if that's all right with you!"

"Okay Jack. No death gliders."

"Thank you. Now where am I? Oh yea..."

"Now Nareem, now Omac, now Martouf, and Anise,
On Thor, On Bratac, On...

"I must object O'Neill."

"What now, Teal'c?"

"I must object to the use of Master Bratac in such a frivolous manner. He is a great warrior and his name should been held in esteem."

"Oh for crying out loud. Okay, I'll use another name, lessee....'

On Thor, On Maybourne, On Nyan, and Aris Boch-is

"Jack!"

"Not now, Daniel!"

To the foot of the ramp, to the top of the Stargate,
Now, dash away! Dash away! Dash away rebate!"
As Jaffa Warriors that before the zat guns fly
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky
So up to the briefing room, the coursers they flew
With a sleigh full of honking big alien weapons, and Jacob Carter too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard at the door
The prancing and pawing and talking galore
As I drew my P-90 and was turning around
In through the office door Jake came in with a bound.
He was dressed all in tan, from his head to his foot
And his clothes were all sandy from the wind on the route
A bundle of goodies he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
He brought us more zat guns and more staff weapons charged,
transportation rings and big honking space guns quite large
For us to use on the Goa'uld and give 'em all hell.
And some more healing devices to keep us all well,
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all our stockings then turned with a jerk
And laying his finger aside of his nose
And giving a nod, to the Stargate he rose
He sprang to his sleigh to his team gave a holler
And away they all pull, going quick as a dollar
But I heard him exclaim, before he dove through the Wormhole's light
"Merry Christmas you all, and to all a Good Night"

"Well, what do you all think?"

The team looked around the table and finally the brave Warrior Teal'c spoke.

"O'Neill, as a poet you are a great soldier."

"Your a great leader," put in Sam Carter.

"And a wonderful friend," Daniel said honestly.

""But Jack," General Hammond entered the room. "Don't give up your day job."

"Merry Christmas Sir."

"Merry Christmas, SG1."

"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"