’Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the game,
Not a darkie on locate, no hungry, no trained.
Us pukes thought we’d do BBT with no care,
In hopes that some glow sticks soon would load there.

The mobs were all blinded and soon would be dead,
While visions of Sting danced in Eolo’s head.
And Glamdring to Sudo, and Orcrist to Hap,
I thought that most sensible since I wasn’t on Zapp.

When from the room west there arose such a noise,
I said to the group, “Now this is it, boys!”
And then from the west there came in a flash,
Ten cheating Estonians with fast auto-bash.

How could we win this? I did not know,
To not trigger the triggers of action-hunt foes.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a fuck-ton of Swedes in shining with beer.

“My name is not Norsu,” their chief said with a grin,
His crew, with a wink, now giggling with him.
“We’d caught on our path all the din of your strife,
And glimpsed in the gloom both your marks and their rife.
Estonians can’t rival our bold battle call,
Their brains slog through slop in a dull muddy sprawl.
Their kiddy scripts falter, no threat to our play,
Our link to the game blazing fast every day.”

In formation he led them, these soldiers of fame,
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name:
“Now Skanska! Now Electrolux!
Now IKEA and H&M!
On Spotify! On Vattenfall!
On Volvo and Ericsson!
For the hurdy gurdy!
And the bork bork!
And the Pirate Bay full of hobbit porn!
Now bash away! Bash away!
Bash away all!”

Akvavit in their flasks, not one of them sober,
They bashed and they nuked until it was all over.
And the last cheater standing, they bashed in his head,
And left the ground gory and stained a dark red.

The leader stepped forward, his wrath was extinguished,
Though covered in blood, he still looked distinguished.
“Now then, make haste, this is no time for leisure,
We must open the door to loot all the treasure.”

We got the door open and, searching around,
Every glow stick had loaded, all safe and sound.
We offered him one, or two, or all,
For rushing to help us, for heeding our call.

He shook his head no, and flashed a big grin,
“We’re off to kill the dragon and loot the sword within.
Its steel stacks a bonus to guard every blow,
Pure Swedish craft forged to fell any foe.”

He sprang to his mount, to his group gave a tell,
And away they all charged like a bat out of hell.
But I heard him exclaim, ’ere he rode out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, I’ll demote them tonight!”

A Night of Bash and Banter: An Analysis of a MUME Christmas Parody

Introduction

In this 65-line poetic romp, the author transforms Clement Clarke Moore’s “’Twas the Night Before Christmas” into a chaotic, booze-soaked clash within Multi Users in Middle-earth (MUME), a Tolkien-based Multi-User Dungeon (MUD). Tentatively titled ’Twas the Night Before Christmas (MUME Edition), it swaps holiday calm for “glow sticks,” “kiddy scripts,” and a “fuck-ton of Swedes,” weaving MUME slang, player gags, and absurdist humor. With its anapestic tetrameter and irreverent tone, the poem celebrates the chaos and camaraderie of MUME, pitting a named crew against ambushers over coveted loot, saved by Swedish mastery in a holiday parody brimming with gaming wit.

Structure and Parody

Echoing Moore’s form—65 lines of mostly couplets in anapestic tetrameter (da-da-DUM, da-da-DUM, da-da-DUM, da-da-DUM)—the poem exceeds the original’s 56 lines with expanded taunts and combat. It tracks a familiar arc: a tense boss fight ambushed, not by Santa but by “Ten cheating Estonians” (line 12), then rescued by Swedish players. Stanzas align logically: couplets set the opening (lines 1–16), a block delivers the chief’s taunt (lines 17–24), a burst lists Swedish names (lines 26–30), and a boastful exit closes (lines 49–55). The extra lines amplify MUME’s chaotic stakes, trading holiday brevity for gaming excess.

The parody flips expectations with glee. “Not a creature was stirring” becomes “Not a darkie on locate, no hungry, no trained” (line 2), and “visions of sugarplums” shift to “visions of sting danced in Eolo’s head” (line 6). The rhythm, meticulously kept (e.g., “Our link to the game blazing fast every day,” line 24), links it to Moore while spiking it with MUME’s gritty edge.

The MUME Context

Set in Multi Users in Middle-earth (MUME), the poem unfolds in a Tolkien-inspired MUD where “pukes” (good-aligned players, line 3) and “darkies” (evil-aligned, line 2)—Orcs, Trolls, and Black Númenóreans—clash. The narrator’s group, “Us pukes,” includes Sudo, Hap, Eolo—a high-level scout—and possibly others unnamed. “Not a darkie on locate, no hungry, no trained” (line 2) reflects the “locate life” spell, scanning for “darkie” steeds: “hungry” (hungry wargs, Orc mounts) and “trained” (trained horses, Black Númenórean mounts). Finding none lulls them into false security as they hit “BBT,” the boss area of Bill, Bert, and Tom from The Hobbit, to claim the “glow sticks”—slang for Sting, Glamdring, and Orcrist, swords that glow blue near “darkies.” Mid-fight, “Ten cheating Estonians with fast auto-bash” (line 12) ambush to steal this loot. The Swedes crash in (line 16) “in shining with beer”—“shining” meaning mithril armor, MUME’s rarest and best, worn by all to flaunt prowess, paired with beer and later Akvavit—crushing the ambush with skill and “link to the game blazing fast” (line 24). By line 45, “Every glow stick had loaded, all safe and sound,” confirms their loot victory. The dragon quest (lines 49–51) hints at more, with a sword boasting “a bonus to guard every blow” (line 50).

Jokes and Humor

The humor is crude, absurd, and MUME-specific, layering player gags, gaming jabs, and cultural twists:

Crude Wordplay and Shock
“A fuck-ton of Swedes in shining with beer” (line 16) swaps Santa’s sleigh for a vulgar, oversized crew, “shining” (mithril armor) paired with “beer” for chaos. “They bashed in his head / And left the ground gory and stained a dark red” (lines 38–39) flips holiday cheer into Tolkien-worthy gore.
MUME In-Jokes
“My name is not Norsu” (line 17) is a player gag—the chief denies being the MUME character Norsu, with “His crew, with a wink, now giggling with him” (line 18) in on it. “Not a darkie on locate, no hungry, no trained” (line 2) mocks the group’s false security—using “locate life” and finding no “hungry” wargs or “trained” horses, missing the Estonian “darkies” ahead. “Visions of sting danced in Eolo’s head” (line 6) teases the scout’s lust for BBT’s loot, won by line 45. “Their kiddy scripts falter” (line 23) taunts the ambushers’ weak cheats, crushed by “Our link to the game blazing fast” (line 24)—MUME skill triumphs.
Cultural Stereotypes and Swedish Pride
“Estonians can’t rival our bold battle call” (line 21) and “Their brains slog through slop” (line 22) mock the ambushers’ ineptitude, a server rivalry jab. The roll-call (lines 26–30)—“Skanska! Electrolux! / IKEA and H&M!”—flaunts Swedish brands, with “shining” (line 16) as mithril armor signaling elite status, peaking with “hurdy gurdy” (line 31) and “bork bork” (line 32)—a reference to the Swedish Chef, and “The Pirate Bay full of hobbit porn!” (line 33)—a Swedish torrent giant tying tech edge to absurd smut.
Absurd Escalation
“Akvavit in their flasks, not one of them sober” (line 36) paints the Swedes as drunken Vikings, escalating from “beer” to Akvavit—a Scandinavian spirit distilled from potatoes or grains—for full, regional inebriation. “Pure Swedish craft forged to fell any foe” (line 51) boasts IKEA-level precision for a MUME sword, absurdly triumphant.

Themes and Tone

The poem celebrates MUME’s factional bonds amid loot-driven chaos. “Us pukes”—Sudo, Hap, Eolo, and others—enter BBT for the “glow sticks,” lulled by “locate life” showing no “darkie” steeds, only to face Estonian “darkies” aiming to snatch Sting, Glamdring, and Orcrist. The Swedes, clad in “shining” mithril, wield skill and speed (beer, Akvavit, gore, “blazing fast” links) to mock heroism and secure the loot by line 45, reveling in MUD anarchy. The tone is irreverent, shunning holiday cheer for petty victory—“Happy Christmas to all” twists into “I’ll demote them tonight” (line 55), a moderator’s flex. It’s a love letter to MUME’s absurdity, where loot, skill, and banter rule.

Stylistic Choices

The anapestic tetrameter drives a relentless pace, with bursts like “Now bash away! Bash away! Bash away all!” (line 34) echoing Santa’s call in combat spam. Quotation marks on the chief’s taunts (lines 17, 19–24, and 49–51) amplify his MUME-chat bravado, while the narrator’s wit shines outside (e.g., line 18). The Swedish list (lines 26–30) crescendos rhythmically, peaking in absurdity, while couplets keep a mocking beat.

Conclusion

’Twas the Night Before Christmas (MUME Edition) skewers holiday norms with MUME-fueled chaos. Its humor—crude puns, gags like “cheating Estonians,” and Swedish boasts via mithril “shining” and The Pirate Bay—thrives on insider nods, spotlighting the BBT “glow sticks” and the Swedes’ masterful rescue. With their “fuck-ton” chaos and crafted swords, they embody a triumph of speed and prowess, tuned for Middle-earth’s digital fray. At 65 lines, it overstays just enough to match its wild ethos, leaving readers grinning at a night of bash, banter, and Swedish swagger—no silent night in MUME.