A STAR TREK CHRISTMAS
 
 'Twas the night before Christmas, 
   when all through the ship
 Not a circuit was buzzing,
   not one microchip;
 
 The phasers were hung
   in the armoury securely,
 In hopes that no aliens
   would get up that early.
 
 The crewmen were nestled
   all snug in their bunks
 (except for the few
   who were partying drunks);
 
 And Picard in his nightshirt
   and Bev in her lace,
 Had just settled down
  for a great face-to-face...
 
 When out in the halls
  there arose such a racket,
 That we leapt from our beds,
   pulling on pants and jacket.

 Away to the lifts
   we all shot like a gun,
 Leapt into the cars,
   yelling loudly, "Deck One!"

 The bridge Red-Alert lights,
   which flashed through the din,
 Gave a lustre of Hades
   to objects within.

 When, what, on the viewscreen,
   should our eyes behold,
 But a weird kind of sleigh,
   and some guy who looked old.

 But the glint in his eyes
   was so strange and askew
 That we knew in a moment
   it had to be Q.
 
 His sleigh grew much larger
   as closer he came.
 Then he beamed on the bridge
   and addressed us by name:
 
 "It's Riker! It's Data!
   It's Worf and Jean-Luc!
 It's Jordi! And Wesley,
   the genetic fluke!

 To the top of the bridge,
   to the top of the hall!
 Now float away! Float away!
   Float away all!"
 
 As the leaves in the autumn
   are whisked off the street,
 So the floor of the bridge
   came away from our feet,
 
 And up to the ceiling
   our bodies they flew,
 As the captian yelled out,
   "What the hell is this, Q?"
 
 The prankster just laughed
   and expanded his grin,
 And, snapping his fingers,
   he vanished again.
 
 As we took in our plight
   and were looking around,
 The spell was removed,
   and we crashed to the ground.
 
 Then Q, dressed in fur
   from his head to his toe,
 Appeared once again,
   to continue the show.
 
 "That's enough!" cried the captian,
   "You'll stop this at once!"
 And Riker said, "Worf!
   Take aim at this dunce!"
 
 "I'm deeply offended, Jean-Luc,"
   replied Q,
 "I just want to celebrate
   Christmas with you."
 
 As we scoffed at his words,
   he produced a large sack.
 He dumped out the contents
   and took a step back.
 
 "I've brought gifts," he said,
   "just to show I'm sincere.
 There's something delightful
   for everyone here."
 
 He sat on the floor
   and dug into his pile,
 And handed out gifts
   with his most charming smile:
 
 "For Counsellor Troi,
   there's no need to explain.
 Here's Tylenol-Beta
   for all of your pain.
 
 For Worf I've some mints
   as his breath's not to great,
 And for Geordi Laforge,
   an inflatable date.
 
 For Wesley, some hormones,
   and Clearasil-Plus;
 For Data, a joke book;
   for Riker, a truss.
 
 For Beverly Crusher,
   there's sleek lingerie,
 And for Jean-Luc, the thrill
  of seeing her that way."
 
 Then he sprang to his feet
   with that grin on his face
 And, clapping his hands,
   disappeared into space.
 
 But we heard him exclaim
   as he dwindled from sight,
 "Merry Christmas to all,
   and to all a good flight!"