I can't believe this, no sooner did I write the last post that I went into my living room to watch "Hero" and during such viewing a quick movement in my tank caught my attention out of the corner of my eye. Alas!
Twas Twenty Days till Christmas and I thought only crabs and snails would be stirring. But what was this?!?!?! An evil Isopod was skittering about!
With a start and a jump I lept from my couch. No easy task having wrenched my knee in Aikido that morning! I grab my 'pod blaster and threw open the hood, aiming quite carefully I sucked him on up.
Angry and pissed off, I glared at the little booger. Daggers and poision on black thunder did dance through my head. I scoured my tank from left to right, searching for more upon this cold night.
Finding none more, I cursed Posidon and his vengefull ways. Oh what did I do to deserve such a curse? Evil pods keeping the phisches out of my tank. So this Christmas morn', I ask for one thing. Dear Santaman, please take those pods and deliver 'em to Ossama.
And now I go back to bed, in a huff but hopefull. Images of zooanthids and ricordia's do dance in my head. Greenfrog spawn and yellow gobies, living with out pests, yes Santaman, this is what I wish.
And too all, a goodnight!
Another version:
'Twas twenty days before Christmas, when all through the apartment,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The beer bottles lay scattered, pizza boxes abound,
In hopes a French Maid would soon be around.
The crabs were nestled all snug in their shells,
While visions of dead phisches did dance in their heads;
Me in my boxers, in blankets on the couch,
Had just started "Hero" for a martial arts bout.
When over in my reef tank, a flash of movement went by,
I sprang from my futon in the blink of an eye.
A blown out knee from Aikido that morning I still went faster,
Tore open the hood and grabbed my 'pod blaster!
The moonlights did glow,
Gave the lustre of mid-night to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But another evil bastard isopod, but thankfully no reindeer,
He was a little booger, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment I'd never thank St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles my curses they came,
And I whistled, and shouted, and called it names;
"You UGLY! you, EVIL! you, STUPID and SLOW!
You MORON, you UNLOVED, you FRICKIN' & FRACKIN'!
To the top of the tank, to the top of the liverock!
Now I'll suck you into my 'pod blaster, damn you!
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, the substrate will fly,
So up to the tank-top the curses I shouted,
I steamed, and stewed and hotly I pouted.
I spoke no more words, but when straight to work,
And filled that 'pod blaster with a short jerk,
And laying my finger aside my nose,
I watched that damn pod, up the blaster he rose!
I sprang from my tank, and gave a long whistle,
In my living room, I did did a little dance,
A shuck and a jive like I stepped on a thistle,
I'm shipping that 'pod all the way to France!
"Happy Holliday's to All, and to All a Good-Night!"
