Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not creature was stirring, not even Azzi's fresh-caught mouse. It couldn't stir, or open its eyes, because it was dead of course. But that didn't stop it's spirit from wandering. It wasn't even angry that it was dead, it wanted to see all the gifts. It knew, oh it knew, that Santa would come to leave presents galore neath' the towering tree. Though he never saw the man in red and white. Not even when he waited till' morning. Though just before the first ray of sunshine shone through the window, the little mouse's spirit blinked and saw gifts piled around the tree. He backed up in surprise. Because before him gifts towered, numbers in the hundreds or more! (this is so lazy and short and i can't rhyme ;w;)
