I've done this the past several years.... and I have a lot of fun with it. So, I give you this year's version of the classic poem, COD style.
'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the land
The COD vets were smiling, it was going to be grand.
Controllers at full charge and headsets just so
The vets settled in, just itching to go.
While the Greenie he dreamed of racking up kills
By knife or by gun, he had all the skills.
This year was different, he was no longer a noob
It might just be time for a montage on YouTube.
The next morning he bolted, so anxious to see
That Hardened Edition right under the tree.
He tore into the paper and littered the room
Smiling so broadly over his impending doom.
New disc in hand he moved in a blur
His console spun up and started to whir.
A ghostly visage filled up the screen
Looking moody and tough and just a little mean.
He selected a soldier and gave him a name
It was kinda stupid and utterly lame.
The map finished loading, Honeybadger in hand
He took off in a sprint, without a single plan.
"Now noobtube, now pistol, now hand grenade
On Stalker, on Quickdraw, on pointstreak parade!
To the top of the building, to the bottom of the hill
I'll shoot them, I'll stab them, I'll kill them at will!"
Dashing to his left then darting to his right
He heaved a grenade with all of his might.
But rounding the corner, he dropped over dead
From a single bullet passing right through his head.
How did this happen, he thought with a fright.
I just started playing, this couldn't be right.
Spawning in once again, he decided to go slow
Still not having a clue on just where he should go.
Crouching as he moved, so sure where they'd be
He totally missed the blinking red I.E.D.
As he flew twenty feet onto the hood of a car
He couldn't believe he'd been blasted so far.
Now Armed with a sniper, he dropped completely prone
He'd show these noobs the skills he had honed.
So he lay there with patience to the left of the track
Then was quietly killed with a knife in the back.
"How the hell am I dying!" at the TV he screamed
This isn't how he pictured it or how he had dreamed.
Screw this, he thought with a twinkle in his eye
I'll switch to a tube, that's how they'll die
Into the game he spawned and pushed left on the pad
Yet nothing happened, could his controller be bad?
Scant seconds later, it would no longer matter
He'd been turned, yet again, into a red messy splatter.
He spawned and died no matter what he did
Even when he sat in a dark corner and hid.
The game finally over, he sat there all numb.
Going 0-20 was pathetic and dumb.
The vet's score was staggering, exceedingly high
Still laughing at the ways he'd seen that kid die.
He rose from his chair and shut off the light
Merry Christmas you noob and to all a good fight!
A most awesome xmas poem for us gamers out there. And also a timely warning to the xmas noobs eagerly opening their copies of COD Ghosts.