Twas The Night Before Patch Day... By Ketchaeatcha
Posted: Tue Mar 09, 2010 7:33 pm
Twas the night before patch day, and all through the game
Trade chat was jumping, much of it quite lame.
The forum whining was posted with hardly a care
In the hopes that a blue post soon would be there
The nerds were all raging, red in their heads
With visions of nerfing and devs filled with lead.
When out in Orgrimmar there arose such a clatter
All the whiners stopped whining to see what was the matter
Away to the Auction house they flew in a flash
Tore down their undercuts and banked the stash
The sun glaring on the morale so low
Gave luster to the comments of the flamers and trolls
When, what to their wondering eyes should appear
But a large troll, holding a fricking large spear
With a log marked both” common sense” & “Leased”
They knew in a moment it must be a priest
More rapid then angels he wound up and swung
And as he laughed and giggled, he shouted at the top of his lungs
Now, Moron! Now, Fool! Now, Stupid and Dim-Witty
Stop, Whining! Stop, QQing! Stop, Flaming and Asking for Pity
To the forums! To the Trade Chat! To all comments with LOL!
I say Shut Up Now, Shut Up Now, Shut Up Now All!
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly
All the whiners shied back, with a bruise and a cry
So up to the top, of the rooftops they flew
With Ketcha in pursuit, his stick of knowledge too
And then, in a twinkling, was heard on that roof
The sound of bruises forming, and bodies hitting the ground with poofs
As they huddled in fear, and started to turn around
In the window dove Ketcha, in with a bound
He was dressed all in robes, from his head to his foot
His clothing was covered, drenched in sawdust and soot
A handful of splinters he clutched in his hand
And he looked like a raider, fresh in from the sand
His eyes, how they blazed! On fire, how scary!
His teeth like daggers, covered in blood the color of cherry!
His brows were drawn down, like an avalanche of snow,
And his voice thundered, as he told them where to go
The stump of a rod, he held tight in his hand
The remainder of which was splintered across the land
He had a larger stick on his back, that was out in a flash,
And he proceeded to lay whiners out, blows on their backs like a lash
He was angry and lean, a purpose driven troll
And they cried when they saw him, for he was on a roll
A rod in his hand, and a flick of his wrist
Contusions then formed, and he hardly ever did miss
He spoke many words, about whining and other PooPooing
On the perils of flaming, and general QQIng
And laying his rod, on the sides of their heads
He taught them some manners, though some wound up dead
He sprang on his mount, to his raptor he gave a whistle
And away he rode, to the next town like a missile
But they heard him shout out, as he rode out of sight
“It’s patch day to all, So shut up all right?”
Trade chat was jumping, much of it quite lame.
The forum whining was posted with hardly a care
In the hopes that a blue post soon would be there
The nerds were all raging, red in their heads
With visions of nerfing and devs filled with lead.
When out in Orgrimmar there arose such a clatter
All the whiners stopped whining to see what was the matter
Away to the Auction house they flew in a flash
Tore down their undercuts and banked the stash
The sun glaring on the morale so low
Gave luster to the comments of the flamers and trolls
When, what to their wondering eyes should appear
But a large troll, holding a fricking large spear
With a log marked both” common sense” & “Leased”
They knew in a moment it must be a priest
More rapid then angels he wound up and swung
And as he laughed and giggled, he shouted at the top of his lungs
Now, Moron! Now, Fool! Now, Stupid and Dim-Witty
Stop, Whining! Stop, QQing! Stop, Flaming and Asking for Pity
To the forums! To the Trade Chat! To all comments with LOL!
I say Shut Up Now, Shut Up Now, Shut Up Now All!
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly
All the whiners shied back, with a bruise and a cry
So up to the top, of the rooftops they flew
With Ketcha in pursuit, his stick of knowledge too
And then, in a twinkling, was heard on that roof
The sound of bruises forming, and bodies hitting the ground with poofs
As they huddled in fear, and started to turn around
In the window dove Ketcha, in with a bound
He was dressed all in robes, from his head to his foot
His clothing was covered, drenched in sawdust and soot
A handful of splinters he clutched in his hand
And he looked like a raider, fresh in from the sand
His eyes, how they blazed! On fire, how scary!
His teeth like daggers, covered in blood the color of cherry!
His brows were drawn down, like an avalanche of snow,
And his voice thundered, as he told them where to go
The stump of a rod, he held tight in his hand
The remainder of which was splintered across the land
He had a larger stick on his back, that was out in a flash,
And he proceeded to lay whiners out, blows on their backs like a lash
He was angry and lean, a purpose driven troll
And they cried when they saw him, for he was on a roll
A rod in his hand, and a flick of his wrist
Contusions then formed, and he hardly ever did miss
He spoke many words, about whining and other PooPooing
On the perils of flaming, and general QQIng
And laying his rod, on the sides of their heads
He taught them some manners, though some wound up dead
He sprang on his mount, to his raptor he gave a whistle
And away he rode, to the next town like a missile
But they heard him shout out, as he rode out of sight
“It’s patch day to all, So shut up all right?”
