“Twas A Die Hard Christmas.”

What does one do when one’s TV and internet access was compromised for the bulk of the day?

I can’t speak for anybody else, but me? I make up shit.

It wasn’t a completely off day, of course. For one thing, I’m in the middle of finishing up an outline for what I hope is a novel project I’ll be able to tackle in 2017. No sooner is that one done then I’ll be turning my attention to another outline for a book I will be writing beginning early in the new year.

I’ve also got a cover blurb to polish, so that I can deliver it to the editor who requested it. Doing these is harder than it looks, and boiling down everything I want to say about this particular book has actually been pretty tough, because I’m definitely a fan of the work and want to do it justice. But, I’ve got what I want to say down, now, and I just need to buff it up a bit.

Oh, and then there was that period earlier this afternoon where I just started going off the rails a bit, because a goofy idea took hold and wouldn’t let go until I did something about it……

diehardchristmas-logo

Twas the night before Christmas, when the bad guys came
To Nakatomi Tower, and not to play games

They took lots of hostages, but missed John McClane
Who soon would prove to be a spectacular pain

The employees were gathered, all of them quite scared
Even though Hans Gruber told them not to despair

He said to remain calm, and they would go free,
But then he shot their boss after counting to three!

Gruber had planned everything with much care,
In hopes he’d get rich from Nakatomi’s locked lair

Money or gold was not at all what he sought,
Bearer bonds was the goal, the heart of his plot!

Someone surprised them by reporting a fire,
And Gruber worried that things soon might turn dire

John killed a bad guy; broke his neck, don’t you know,
And got himself a machine gun! Ho-Ho-Ho!

He killed a second guy, and then number three
All before police arrived; L.A.’s best you see.

John found a radio, and a friend named Powell,
Who told him to hang tough! Don’t throw in the towel!

Hans attacked the police, and McClane fought back,
With C-4 he found in a bad guy’s back pack

The bomb McClane made destroyed an entire floor,
The building would need paint, and a shitload of screen doors

Hans asked McClane why he was being such a shucker
But McClane threw shade. Yippee-Kai-Yay, Mother Fucker!

The feds were ready to retake the tower
But Hans was waiting for them to cut power!

Everything went down, exactly as he’d planned
Within moments he held the bearer bonds in his hands!

As Hans and his men started to make their getaway
He took McClane’s wife, Holly, to keep him at bay

McClane fought Karl, the last of Gruber’s henchman pawns
Then he shot Gruber, wishing him “Happy Trails, Hans!”

Gruber fell through a window and made such a huge clatter
Then he hit the ground, and made an even bigger splatter

McClane and Holly found Al Powell outside
And Powell killed Karl before calling it a night

Everyone was happy, even fighting back tears
You think Christmas was wack? Be here for New Year’s!

die-hard-santa

(With profound apologies to Clement Clarke Moore…or Henry Livingston, Jr.)

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About Dayton Ward

Freelance word pusher. Husband. Dad. Trekkie. Rush fan (the band). Tampa Bay Bucs fan. Observer/derider of human behavior. I know where my towel is.
This entry was posted in jokes, weird shit, writing. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to “Twas A Die Hard Christmas.”

  1. Pingback: December writing wrap-up. | The Fog of Ward

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