The Night of Christmas Evil

It was the night of Christmas Eve and all through the house
there would soon be screaming (even from the mouse).
The stockings were positioned by the fireplace where
they should not have been hung—a fire hazard right there.
The children would all jump up out of their beds;
Santa was coming! But to steal the sugarplums from their heads.
But let's start at the beginning, because we were all in bed for
we'd just lain down to sleep about an hour before.
Then, out on the lawn, there was a loud noise.
I scrambled to see, and fell over some toys.
I picked myself up and went on my way,
pulling back the blinds that had been shut for the day.
As I looked out on the lawn two storeys below,
in the moonlight I saw the red glowing snow.
I was staring aghast when there suddenly appeared
a sleigh in flames and eight hell-forged reindeer.
Driving the sleigh, there was an old man
(probably from Florida, he had a nice tan).
He should have been kind, but he was rather scary—
from childhood stories he certainly did vary.
I grew all the more nervous the closer he came.
He tried to stop the reindeer, addressing them by name:
"Stop, Slasher, Necromancer! Stop, Cancer and Vixen!
Stop, Vomit! Stop, Stupid! Stop, Fondler and Shitzen!
Mind that porch! Watch out for that wall!
Stop! Stop! Damn it! Stop all!"
I stared dumbfounded as they skid on by,
and came crashing to a halt (it's amazing they didn't die).
It was then the elder stepped out of the sleigh—good as new;
I was beginning to wonder if he was invincible, too.
Then a moment later, he was there at my door
and I heard his boot steps clunking across my floor.
Turning around, I heard something ignite;
this is when it turned into a truly hellish night.
I saw him by the fireplace with a blowtorch in his hand;
I was so utterly shocked that I could barely stand.
He pushed me out of the way as he charged up the steps
and there were shrieks to follow just what he did next.
The old man wasn't quite done, because this I now know,
he set the upstairs on fire and only then turned to go.
There weren't any gifts left for us under the tree
and my family and I were being forced to flee.
He dashed back to the sleigh, then the reindeer flew;
the police soon came and asked what I knew.
I told them what happened, said I saw it myself,
but they stared and asked if I'd hit my head on a shelf.
They claimed I'd gone mad and was the true culprit here;
said I was the one to cause my children's tears.
When the firefighters arrived, getting straight to their work,
my family verified and I thought of the jerk.
But the police disagreed, said there was really no way
that anyone else could have missed the red-flaming sleigh.
It was then that I spotted him—in the sky! In the west!
I pointed him out, but realized there would be no arrest
because he couldn't be caught and flying far out of sight
he shouted, "I'll be back next year! Have a shit night!"