'Twas the night before Christmas in Gryffindor tower; each student was snug as a bird in a bower
But down in the dungeons, our Snapey was scheming and plotting away while the kiddies were dreaming
Snape didn't like Christmas, you see, not at all. (Perhaps 'cause his cauldron was one size too small)
But this year he would finally have peace and quiet, escape from the usual Gryffindor riot
Of crackers and dungbombs and god-awful singing. Snape hated that noise, how it left his ears ringing
He'd hitch up a dog (and he knew just the one) to a sled, and put in Christmas stuff by the ton
Then he'd take it away and he'd set it on fire, and do his Snape happy-dance all 'round the pyre
You probably think that his plan can't succeed, and that someone will stop such a naughty misdeed
But brains and ambition, I'm sorry to say, trump courage and good intentions any day
So next morning the cry could be heard round the school: "Merry Christmas to nobody!" Slytherins rule!
piretmonkey.com
it's a ship just waiting to happen
"Voila ! In view, a humble
vaudevillian veteran,
cast vicariously as both
victim and villain by the
vicissitudes of Fate.
This visage, no mere veneer of
vanity, is a vestige of the
vox populi, now vacant, vanished. However,
this valorous visitation of a by-gone
vexation, stands vivified, and
has vowed to vanquish these
venal and virulent vermin
vanguarding vice and vouchsafing
the violently vicious and voracious
violation of volition.
The only verdict is vengeance;
a vendetta, held as a votive,
not in vain, for the value and
veracity of such shall one day
vindicate the vigilant and the
virtuous. Verily, this vichyssoise
of verbiage veers most verbose
so let me simply add that it's
my very good honour to meet you
and you may call me V."
