Title: A Trekkie's Christmas Author: Paula Stiles (thesnowleopard@hotmail.com) Series: MIS Part: NEW 1/1 Rating: [PG] Nothing your average 13-year-old couldn't think up. Codes: None Summary: The Twelve Days of Christmas (as if you couldn't tell), from a Trekkie's POV. Otherwise known as "My Brother's and My Christmas Lists Set to Music." Disclaimer: Paramount owns all the fun Trek stuff in this poem, and God only knows who wrote the carol. I beg your forgiveness, whoever you are, for mangling your carol for my own purposes, and for making fun of Paramount (ooh, but it feels so *good*). I grovel at your feet. There, are your lawyers happy, now? Archive: Sure--if you ask first. Originally posted on alt.startrek.creative on December 11, 1998. A TREKKIE'S TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS On the first day of Christmas, a trekkie sent to me A Vulcan in a g-string. On the second day of Christmas, a trekkie sent to me Two pointy ears, and a Vulcan in a g-string. On the third day of Christmas, a trekkie sent to me Three Borg babes, two pointy ears, and a Vulcan in a g-string. On the fourth day of Christmas, a trekkie sent to me Four Shatner rugs, three Borg babes, two pointy ears, and a Vulcan in a g-string. On the fifth day of Christmas, a trekkie sent to me Five...latinum...rings. Four Shatner rugs, three Borg babes, two pointy ears, and a Vulcan in a g-string. On the sixth day of Christmas, a trekkie sent to me A sixpack of bloodwine. Five...latinum...rings. Four Shatner rugs, three Borg babes, two pointy ears, and a Vulcan in a g-string. On the seventh day of Christmas, a trekkie sent to me Seven sterile tribbles, a sixpack of bloodwine. Five...latinum...rings. Four Shatner rugs, three Borg babes, two pointy ears, and a Vulcan in a g-string. On the eighth day of Christmas, a trekkie sent to me Eight Guls a-plotting, seven sterile tribbles, a sixpack of bloodwine. Five...latinum...rings. Four Shatner rugs, three Borg babes, two pointy ears, and a Vulcan in a g-string. On the eighth day of Christmas, a trekkie sent to me Nine Vedeks chanting, eight Guls a-plotting, seven sterile tribbles, a sixpack of bloodwine. Five...latinum...rings. Four Shatner rugs, three Borg babes, two pointy ears, and a Vulcan in a g-string. On the tenth day of Christmas, a trekkie sent to me Ten pompous admirals, nine Vedeks chanting, eight Guls a-plotting, seven sterile tribbles, a sixpack of bloodwine. Five...latinum...rings. Four Shatner rugs, three Borg babes, two pointy ears, and a Vulcan in a g-string. On the eleventh day of Christmas, a trekkie sent to me Eleven sneering Romulans, ten pompous admirals, nine Vedeks chanting, eight Guls a-plotting, seven sterile tribbles, a sixpack of bloodwine. Five...latinum...rings. Four Shatner rugs, three Borg babes, two pointy ears, and a Vulcan in a g-string. On the twelfth day of Christmas, a trekkie sent to me A dozen hapless redshirts, eleven sneering Romulans, ten pompous admirals, nine Vedeks chanting, eight Guls a-plotting, seven sterile tribbles, a sixpack of bloodwine. Five...latinum...rings. Four Shatner rugs, three Borg babes, two pointy ears, and a Vulcan in a g-string. END