‘Twas the night before Kurisumasu, and out with the boss,
The salarymen were tottering, all totally sauced;
They would soon be hungover, but nobody cared,
Tomorrow they’d sleep for the first time they’d dared;
With no children to wake them as they lay in their beds,
While karaoke songs replayed in their heads;
And mama-san in her apron, and I in my suit,
She cut off the drinks since I’d run out of loot,
When out on the street there arose such a blare,
I thought a black van with loudspeakers was there.

As away to the till went the last of my cash,
Some roguish figure tore in with a crash;
The moon cast a shadow onto the floor,
As a silhouette appeared in the light through the door,
When what to my half-open eyes hoofed near,
But a scooter pulled by twelve rowdy deer;
With a mischievous driver in such a great dash,
I knew in a moment it was Santa’s rogue elf, Flash!
More horsepower than Harleys, their thundering rang,
And she sang out by shouting their traveling stage names:

“Hey! Havoc! Hey Shred! Hey Pogo, Hey Led!
Now, Thrasher! Now, Crasher! Now Reckless and Vexen!
Play, Misfit! Play, Scarlet! Play, Rebel and Raven!
From the top of the tables! From the top of the bar!
Now play away! Play away! Play like a rock star!”
As the windows that shattered when the Concorde would fly,
An ominous sound rose that vibrated my eyes;
And then like an earthquake shaking the room,
It rattled from the walls of the little saloon;
And over the housetops the thunderous noise grew,
‘Till it could be heard through all Shinjuku—

Drums boomed, bass rumbled, guitars at high gain,
A wassailing siren and her ruminant gang;
She was dressed all in leather, from her jacket to her boots,
A collar with spikes, a deerwhip and catsuit;
A guitar amp behind her was blasting feedback,
From a Matamp GT through a double-high stack.
Dark eyes gave a wink, to my skipping heartbeat,
Her hair like black fire, as she blocked my retreat!
Her sobering mouth was drawn up in a challenge,
Dueling lead solos if I felt thus unhinged;

A golden guitar jack she held in her teeth,
I took it not wanting to cause myself grief,
Plugged it into the Gibson by Vexen’s gig-set,
And shook when I found it down-tuned five steps!
It was heavy and metal from the pick in my hand,
So I thundered a solo in front of the band;
Another wink of her eye and a twist of her wrist,
As she joined in some heavy Yuletide pitch,
Shouted the last words of an epic finale,
Then dashed off with the band into the back alley…

Just as the police arrived to restore order and peace,
And giving a salute, through the streets as they screeched;
She sang from her scooter, as her twelve conspirators led,
Away from from the bedlam and mess they all fled;
But I heard her exclaim, o’er the din of loud cheer—
“Christmas is more merry, if you leave cookies and beer!”