Post by SuperKamiGuy1 on Dec 2, 2020 22:20:03 GMT
'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the school
Monokuma was maxin', relaxin' all cool
When a couple of students, all up to no good
Went to work on their murder plots, fast as they could!
One lady was manic, and clutching a knife,
"Off to meet a cute boy? Perhaps taking his life?"
And another smart student, his mind clear and steady,
Was to set off a trap, prepped for hours, now ready.
"A clever construct," our bear quipped with a smile,
"But maybe too risky– and damn, took a while!
Besides, he's marked too! For the gal with the hat
Is aiming to crack his skull in with that bat!"
The bear hit the shadows, his red eye a-gleaming,
But so were the ones of the fashion girl scheming
From behind the monitors: Junko, Despair,
Slashing a smile 'cross her face in her lair.
"Puhuhuhuhuhu! All those syllables wasted!
That line's rhythm's nonsense! Your despair is tasted!"
That day was her birthday (and her twin sister's, but even this poem doesn't care!) and Junko was proud
Of the murderous game she had set and allowed.
For just one week only, these poor little mules
Are trapped in this school with her usual rules.
Just kill to get out! (Plus a shitload of baiting
To get the ball rolling.) She found it hard waiting!
"This may not make sense in the timeline, but hey!
It's a damn Christmas special! So, uh, go away."
The sister, obliging, slunk out of the room
Nah, not worth rhyming for Mukuro.
While Junko, the queen, was watching with thrill
And wondering who would go in for the kill.
"The crazy young lady? No chance, she's a wimp.
The guy that she's after will crush her like shrimp!
The nerdy one's losing. There's slack in his string
And the hammer tied to it will miss on its swing.
So that leaves the one with the weapon. Oh, joy.
As if she could ambush that smart, strapping boy!"
Ol' Junko mulled over and over again
Just who would get blackened– or who even can,
Until she arrived at solution so sad
That she called to her sibling. "I just might go mad!
Today is my birthday, and this is PATHETIC!
These losers won't murder! God, this is pathetic."
(Mukuro knows better than to challenge her on that rhyme.)
She whispered a trice in the dark soldier's ear,
And when she had relayed the message so dear,
She spun in her chair, and she turned on her mic,
And everyone froze in their tracks at the sight
Of the screens in the hallway all now turning on,
Showing dear Monokuma, the mastermind's pawn.
"Good evening, dear students all running amok!
And now, oh, please let me be frank: you all SUCK!
You're all planning murders that aren't gonna work,
And watching you try just might drive me berserk!
So take the night off! It's beddy-bye time!
And have a nice nap and a night most sublime!"
Before all the students could ask what that was,
the screens all turned back to their staticky buzz.
And then, Enoshima did flip a red switch
That sent a strange gas through the vents, what a witch!
The girl with the knife stumbled into the wall
And sank right on down it, in spite of it all.
The man with the trap started coughing– too late!
He fell to the floor, spouting curses and hate.
The hatted girl staggered, too sleepy to try,
And she dropped her equipment and started to cry.
The tears of her failure still readied to fall
As she fell asleep right where she was in the hall.
And then there was silence. And Junko's head shook.
"Embarrassing. Years of my life, they just took."
But slowly, her frown did give way to a grin,
And in turn did a giggle alight on her chin.
"Puhuhu, how nasty. When morning comes nigh,
They'll all have to answer for what they did try.
Division will sprout, and their fear grow tenfold,
And that will give way to despairing, all told!"
She sat back with patience, her presents now laid,
She'll save them to open on Christmas the Day.
With Mukuro planting more implements cruel
To falsely incriminate one peaceful fool
Who elsewise was spotless, the plan was now set.
"Now all are suspicious. Good work, ya dumb het."
As Junko did savor her biting remark,
the soldier did savor but one little mark.
Good work! Oh, good work! Ikusaba felt bright,
For this highest of praise was a birth/mas gift right.
And with the bell chiming, their birthday now passed,
the dear Despair Sisters were ready at last.
Enoshima thought idly, oh, what would he think?
That horrible, wonderful, hope-loving twink.
So she cheerfully chirped the poem-ending trope:
"Merry Christmas to you and your dumb ho-ho-hope!"
Monokuma was maxin', relaxin' all cool
When a couple of students, all up to no good
Went to work on their murder plots, fast as they could!
One lady was manic, and clutching a knife,
"Off to meet a cute boy? Perhaps taking his life?"
And another smart student, his mind clear and steady,
Was to set off a trap, prepped for hours, now ready.
"A clever construct," our bear quipped with a smile,
"But maybe too risky– and damn, took a while!
Besides, he's marked too! For the gal with the hat
Is aiming to crack his skull in with that bat!"
The bear hit the shadows, his red eye a-gleaming,
But so were the ones of the fashion girl scheming
From behind the monitors: Junko, Despair,
Slashing a smile 'cross her face in her lair.
"Puhuhuhuhuhu! All those syllables wasted!
That line's rhythm's nonsense! Your despair is tasted!"
That day was her birthday (and her twin sister's, but even this poem doesn't care!) and Junko was proud
Of the murderous game she had set and allowed.
For just one week only, these poor little mules
Are trapped in this school with her usual rules.
Just kill to get out! (Plus a shitload of baiting
To get the ball rolling.) She found it hard waiting!
"This may not make sense in the timeline, but hey!
It's a damn Christmas special! So, uh, go away."
The sister, obliging, slunk out of the room
Nah, not worth rhyming for Mukuro.
While Junko, the queen, was watching with thrill
And wondering who would go in for the kill.
"The crazy young lady? No chance, she's a wimp.
The guy that she's after will crush her like shrimp!
The nerdy one's losing. There's slack in his string
And the hammer tied to it will miss on its swing.
So that leaves the one with the weapon. Oh, joy.
As if she could ambush that smart, strapping boy!"
Ol' Junko mulled over and over again
Just who would get blackened– or who even can,
Until she arrived at solution so sad
That she called to her sibling. "I just might go mad!
Today is my birthday, and this is PATHETIC!
These losers won't murder! God, this is pathetic."
(Mukuro knows better than to challenge her on that rhyme.)
She whispered a trice in the dark soldier's ear,
And when she had relayed the message so dear,
She spun in her chair, and she turned on her mic,
And everyone froze in their tracks at the sight
Of the screens in the hallway all now turning on,
Showing dear Monokuma, the mastermind's pawn.
"Good evening, dear students all running amok!
And now, oh, please let me be frank: you all SUCK!
You're all planning murders that aren't gonna work,
And watching you try just might drive me berserk!
So take the night off! It's beddy-bye time!
And have a nice nap and a night most sublime!"
Before all the students could ask what that was,
the screens all turned back to their staticky buzz.
And then, Enoshima did flip a red switch
That sent a strange gas through the vents, what a witch!
The girl with the knife stumbled into the wall
And sank right on down it, in spite of it all.
The man with the trap started coughing– too late!
He fell to the floor, spouting curses and hate.
The hatted girl staggered, too sleepy to try,
And she dropped her equipment and started to cry.
The tears of her failure still readied to fall
As she fell asleep right where she was in the hall.
And then there was silence. And Junko's head shook.
"Embarrassing. Years of my life, they just took."
But slowly, her frown did give way to a grin,
And in turn did a giggle alight on her chin.
"Puhuhu, how nasty. When morning comes nigh,
They'll all have to answer for what they did try.
Division will sprout, and their fear grow tenfold,
And that will give way to despairing, all told!"
She sat back with patience, her presents now laid,
She'll save them to open on Christmas the Day.
With Mukuro planting more implements cruel
To falsely incriminate one peaceful fool
Who elsewise was spotless, the plan was now set.
"Now all are suspicious. Good work, ya dumb het."
As Junko did savor her biting remark,
the soldier did savor but one little mark.
Good work! Oh, good work! Ikusaba felt bright,
For this highest of praise was a birth/mas gift right.
And with the bell chiming, their birthday now passed,
the dear Despair Sisters were ready at last.
Enoshima thought idly, oh, what would he think?
That horrible, wonderful, hope-loving twink.
So she cheerfully chirped the poem-ending trope:
"Merry Christmas to you and your dumb ho-ho-hope!"
