One of my favorites:
Warhammer Druchii
Twas the night before Christmas, and through Naggaroth
the Cold Ones were moving with the speed of a sloth,
The High Elves were nailed to their crosses with care,
In hopes that the Harpies soon would be there.
The children were beaten and tossed into bed,
While birdies and stars whirled over their heads,
And the witch in her leathers and I in my mask,
Had just started into our amorous task...
When out in the street there arose such a crash,
It sounded just like the Manticore had got in the trash.
But I went to the window and looked out with a yawn
To see what kind of mess had been made on the lawn.
The torches were lit in the Temple of Khaine,
And the streets were all echoing with mad screams of pain,
When appearing from nowhere, a sight sure to stun
Was a Dark Elf Chariot, and eight drooling Cold Ones
With a spike-armoured driver, so wicked and clawed,
I knew in a moment it must be DeSade
While snapping and snarling, his Cold Ones they came,
And he lashed them and beat them, and called them by name:
"Now, Dumkopf! now, Stupid! now Moron and Dimwit!
On, Brainless! On Cretin ! on, Obtuse and Dumbsh..!
To the top of the temple! to the top of the wall!
Now get it right this time, or I’ll kill you all!"
Getting this far had seemed against all the odds,
When they met with an obstacle, barely they dodged,
So up to the front porch, the chariot they drew,
With a boatload of swords, and whips and spears too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard at the door
The sound of wood breaking, boots hitting the floor.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Into the living room Cold Ones came with a bound.
DeSade was dressed all in black, from his head to his toe,
And why his smile was so evil, I did not want to know.
A bundle of spears he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a weapon smith just opening his pack.
His eyes -- how they glittered -- his demeanour how merry!
He was a true Druchii noble, not some High Elven fairy!
His mean little mouth was drawn up in a growl
And kicked a Cold One just to hear it howl!
A chewed dragon’s bone he held tight in his teeth,
And Dark Magic encircled his head like a wreath.
He had an angular face and a cruel little laugh
And told me, “Be quiet, or I’ll cut you in half!”
He was lean and mean, a right fearsome Dark elf,
And I cringed when I saw him, in spite of myself.
The spikes on his armour and horns on his head
Filled all of the room with an aura of dread.
He spoke no more, but went to our spear-chest,
Threw in some weapons, then dumped in the rest,
Then pushing his Cold Ones, across the floor
With kicks and lashings, got them out the door.
He got up to his Chariot, to his reptiles gave a yell,
Grabbed up his whip and beat them like hell.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, may you live through the night!"
By
BaronDeSade
Merry Death Night, Slaves.