*Adapted from A Visit From St. Nicholas by Clement Clarke Moore.
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the lab
Not a creature was stirring, not even a crab;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Gabe soon would be there;
The gamers were nestled all snug in their beds;
While visions of video games danced in their heads;
And Yamilia in her ‘kerchief, and Muaz in his cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap,
When out on the web there arose such a clatter,
I opened my laptop to see what was the matter.
Away to Steam I flew like a flash,
Clicked on ‘Store’ to check out the stash.
The gleam from the light of my computer screen,
Gave a lustre of midday to objects unseen,
When what to my wondering eyes did reveal,
But a miniature sleigh and eight indie deals,
With sales a-coming in increasing waves,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Gabe.
More rapid than eagles the deals they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
“Now, FEZ! now, Bioshock! now XCOM and DayZ!
On, Half-Life! on, Batman! on, Payday and Stanley!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now buy away! Buy away! Buy away all!”
As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the desktop the Steam account grew
With the sleigh full of games, and St. Gabe too—
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Through a portal St. Gabe came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of game codes he had in his pack,
And he looked like a jolly Heavy when seen from the back.
His eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow;
A belt full of knives, as a warning you see,
To anyone, who gave him crap about Half-Life 3;
He had a broad face and a little round belly
That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.
He was jolly and kind, and bubbly like soda,
He looked like a friendly hero from Dota;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I would receive Left 4 Dead;
He spoke not a word, but left badges and deals,
For the cost of naught but a Happy Meal,
And the price of a coffee for CounterStrike GO,
And back through the portal to the next house he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight—
“PC Gaming to all, and to all a good night!”