A Visit From Saint Vanduul
or
The Night Before Orion

Twas the night before Orion and all through the kingship
Not a creature was stirring, not even AI chips.
The loot sacks were hung by the reactor with care,
In hopes that Saint Vanduul soon would be there.

The hatchlings were nestled all snug in their berths,
While visions of entrails filled them with mirth.
And Mama in her helmet, and I in my space socks
Had just started playing “EVA to the airlock”.

When out in the hangar there arose such a clatter,
I jumped from my bunk to see what was the matter!
Away to the gun rack I flew like a racer
Tore open the doors and grab a big laser!

The emergency lights on the newly patched bulkhead
gave a sheen of fresh blood so beautifully red.
Then what to my vengeful eyes should appear
but a minature Scythe, with eight missiles here.

With a little old pilot, so nimble and cruel
I knew in a moment it was Saint Vanduul.
More rapid than lasers his missiles they came
and he whistled and shouted and called them by name

Now Killer! Now Thriller!
Now Savage and Brutish!
On Vicious! On Ruthless!
Inhuman and Fiendish!
Blow up the porch!
Blow up the wall!
Now breach the hull! Breach the hull!
Blast away all!

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
so fell our guards in the blink of an eye!
Then up to the landing deck onward they flew
with the Scythe full of loot and Saint Vanduul too!

Then in a twinkling my heart filled with ire
As crawling and clawing my comrades expired.
I drew up my gun and started to aim,
When out came Saint Vanduul – his knife was aflame!

He was dressed all in armor from his head to his foot,
and his body was covered in guts, blood, and soot.
A bundle of bombs he had flung on his back
and looked like Hell’s maw all gaping and black.

His eyes how they glowered! His cheeks full of fury!
His nose was all crooked just like a rigged jury!
His twisted little mouth was drawn up in a snarl
Exposing his teeth, sharp, pointed and gnarled!
The stump of a hand from the bodies he picked him,
and chewed the remains of his most recent victim.
He had a broad face and little round belly,
but the rest of that corpse had been turned into jelly.

I fired and shot and tried killing that horror
but he dodged and turned and he filled me with terror.
A blink of my eye and a twist of his head
and his knife at my throat filling me with dread.

He spoke not a word but cast me aside
called me a weakling and bade me abide.
He filled all our racks with bombs and explosives
and said we should use some gasses corrosive.

He sprang to his Scythe, his engines he gunned,
and away then he flew, for he knew he had won.
But I heard him exclaim ‘ere he flew out of sight
“Happy slaying to all, and to all a good night!”