Co-written with Rose
A horrific Backstreet spin on a Christmas classic.
Genre: Horror, Short
Written: December 2010
We wrote this BSB/zombie spoof of “The Night Before Christmas” on a whim late at night, the night before the night before Christmas. Very random. It’s just for fun… enjoy!
‘Twas the night before Christmas, and throughout the bus,
Not a sound could be heard, ‘cept for the driver, Gus.
The stockings were hung on the bunks, thanks to Nick,
‘Cause it kept him too busy to pull any tricks.
The five Boys were nestled all snug in their bunks,
While visions of hot groupies tingled their junk,
AJ zonked out in his leopard print hat,
While Nick slept in the nude – yeah, you know you love that!
When on top of the bus, there arose such a crash,
That Nick tumbled out and landed on his ass.
Throwing boxers on, he ran out the door,
Only to see horrors he’d never seen before.
The moonlight shone upon the rotting flesh,
Of hundreds of the undead, who knew not of rest.
Zombies! The horde’s hungry moans reached Nick’s ear,
And he knew in a moment he had much to fear.
The undead slowly turned, eyeing him as their prey,
And Nick knew right then, he would die on that day.
Steady, unrelenting, the zombies, they came,
They surrounded the bus, like a pack hunting game.
There was nowhere to run, no escape in sight,
But Nick wasn’t going down without a fight!
He pushed down one zombie, then a second, a third;
Then over the moans, he suddenly heard…
A miraculous new sound, the jingling of bells!
Maybe it wasn’t Nick’s day to be thrown into Hell!
He looked up and saw in the starry night sky
Santa’s reindeer and sleigh, flying on by.
“Hey, wait!” Nick cried, quickly waving his arms,
“Santa, don’t leave me in this zombie swarm!”
Then the sleigh pulled a U-turn, right in midair
And came flying back toward the tour bus parked there.
“No way!” Nick shouted, as he gazed overhead
At Santa with his shotgun aimed right at the dead.
Shots rang out, echoing in the night.
Corpses fell over, giving Nick quite the fright!
Reindeer pulled the sleigh, as Santa shouted out,
“Run while you can, Nick, or they’ll eat you, no doubt!”
As Santa flew by, killing what he could,
Nick ran off, like any eighteen-year-old would.
But, gangly and awkward, he tripped over his feet,
Or maybe it was the large root of a tree.
In any case, he fell to the ground,
And before he could rise, something new came around.
With a moan and a smell so rotten and rank,
Rotting flesh peeling ‘way, the eyes looking so blank,
He knew in a moment, a zombie it must be,
Come to eat him alive, chew his brains with its teeth.
It was dressed all in rags, from head to rotting foot,
And its clothes were all covered in blood, brains, and dirt.
A tangle of intestines trailed out of its torso;
It looked like raw sausage and stunk even more so.
Its eyes, how they bulged, so clouded and scary;
Its cheeks were all shriveled, like the pit of a cherry.
Its rotting-toothed mouth was a gaping, wide hole,
And its flesh was pale gray, like dirty, gross snow.
It let out a moan, with much gnashing of teeth,
As it lumbered toward Nick and came within reach.
It was bony and gaunt, practically all skeleton,
Yet Nick screamed when it grabbed him; he knew it had won.
The snapping of jaws and the tilt of its head
Soon let him know he had so much to dread.
He gagged on the smell of its breath as it came
Ever closer and closer to eating his brain.
Then, suddenly, the creature slumped down on the pavement.
Santa came from behind; Nick looked up in amazement.
He spoke not a word, just went on with the work,
Shooting zombies left and right, without even one jerk.
He winked just like Howie, giving Nick a sly smile.
Slowly, Nick stood, swallowing back all the bile.
Santa then laid a finger aside of his nose,
And when he gave a nod, the still corpses rose!
Away the bodies flew, to a dumpster nearby.
Nick glanced back at Santa, wondering why…
“Why did this happen? How could it be?”
“Oh, Nick,” Santa said, “Can’t you see, can’t you see?”
“Sometimes things happen, for no reason at all.”
Then he sprang to his sleigh, leaving Nick feeling small.
They hovered in the air, while Santa looked ’round,
But no zombies were roaming; none could be found.
So away, they all flew, like the down of a thistle,
And then Nick heard, faintly, the sound of a whistle,
And he heard Kevin yell, as he watched Santa go,
“NICK! Get your ass in here! It’s starting to snow!”
Nick did as he was told, went back to the bus,
Without even a word of trouble or fuss.
He couldn’t explain; they’d never believe
About the zombie attack on that Christmas Eve.