The Ballad Of Snugglefuck

Isn’t it about time for a new Christmas tradition? With that being said:

The Ballad of Snugglefuck

by C. Derick Miller

with a little help from Clement Clarke Moore

Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the trailer

My mother was wishing for someone to nail her

The stockings were hung, but not so my dad

Whiskey dick shriveled and mangled and sad

Myself? I was tensed up, beginning to buckle

A quick spray of guilt and I’d frosted my knuckle

But guilt is permitted when in your own sheets

My cock head was Rudolph-ed and red as a beet.

I heard not a rustle or warning that night

No hint that our evening would soon fill with fright

When from under the tree a large gift did escape

It was fluffy old Snugglefuck ready for rape

This stuffed child’s plaything was not what it seemed

The most popular toy that inhabited dreams

Of all boys and girls, from both north and of south

To diddle your boo-hole while covering your mouth

Like Halloween 3, this bear was a prank

Resting bitch faced like Hillary Swank

The maker was devious, magic, and pissed

The season of giving, gone capitalist

The stroke of midnight had brought them to life

To anally penetrate husband or wife

But not to the children, he’d spare them the rod

While watching their parents all kneel before Zod

My father was gagged by the dog’s tennis ball

It tasted of canine who’d done licked it all

He started to choke when old Snugglefuck entered

And exploded like Death Stars when torpedoes centered

My mother was next, or so it would seem

But Snugglefuck winked as he gave Dad the cream

Was this a new model or was this thing defective?

Nope, Snugglefuck 2.0 Anal Detective

My Dad blamed his drinking while cursing aloud

But this nightmare would only make Stephen King proud

‘Cause no drinking or weed could imagine such crass

Of the furry dicked bear who had entered his ass

The bears all took over, one house at a time

And explored every orifice without reason or rhyme

Americans screwed up that old Christmas spirit

Now screwing assured the whole country would fear it

They fucked and they fondled the helpless adults

While they screamed to the heavens and flung their insults

Like rug burns from furry small hands they received

The Snugglefucks came, but were not near relieved

The torture it lasted till sunrise awoke

The bears all went limp, even some in mid stroke

The spell had been lifted along with the sun

There was nothing but rawness, and no one had fun

American parents all stood there confused

From watching their partners be fucked and abused

But that’s what they get for ignoring true peace

Getting their guts poked with erected fleece

But who do you blame when a gift comes to life

The stores or the makers or Donald Trump’s wife

To seek such revenge on American ways

When holiday spirit has seen better days

The bears were all normal and laying there dead

With no hint of movement or magic or dread

Do we blame our God or is Jesus the one?

Who sought their revenge and most obviously won

This story’s a lesson to rich and to poor

Fuck off with your presents, you capitalist whore

Snugglefuck’s watching, the plan is in motion

Prepare for the worst and don’t spare the lotion