These are not Easter eggs
Twas the night before Christmas, all calm and so still,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a chill.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.
But Santa Claus, in his sleigh, had a scare,
For he stumbled upon something quite rare.
Amidst the snow and the cold, dark night,
He found xenomorph eggs, a strange sight.
The eggs were ovoid, with a sinister sheen,
And Santa had no idea what they might mean.
With caution and care, he approached them near,
Little did he know, he had much to fear.
As he peered at the eggs, curiosity ablaze,
He heard a faint hiss, a sound that dismays.
Cracks appeared on the shells, a terrifying show,
And out burst creatures from the eggs, row by row.
Xenomorphs emerged, their presence so grim,
Santa’s holiday cheer now grew dim.
Their sleek, black bodies and jaws so wide,
Made Santa wish he could quickly hide.
With acid for blood and a killer’s intent,
These aliens were not Santa’s present.
He dashed to his sleigh, quick as a flash,
As the xenomorphs followed, ready to clash.
Up into the sky, Santa’s reindeer took flight,
Leaving behind the xenos, a perilous sight.
He shouted to his reindeer, his voice filled with dread,
“Take us away from these monsters, full speed ahead!”
As they soared through the night, leaving danger behind,
Santa knew this Christmas would be one of a kind.
For he’d encountered aliens, fierce and surreal,
In a tale unlike any, he could ever reveal.
So remember this story, when you think of St. Nick,
And the night he met creatures so scary and slick.
He’ll always deliver presents, no matter what’s amiss,
But beware of the xenos, lurking in the abyss.
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