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Song Parodies -> "The Nite B4 Xmas (Daily Mail perspective)"

Original Song Title:

"Twas the Night before Christmas"

Original Performer:

Clement Clark Moore

Parody Song Title:

"The Nite B4 Xmas (Daily Mail perspective)"

Parody Written by:

Alex J

The Lyrics

Not really a song, oh well. In the UK a chav is... well why don't you google it? im sure wikipedia explains better than i could. Personally I think this parody needs a lot of work and bits aren't actually that funny. I just can't be arsed to do anything about it. It's written from the point of view of the type of person who reads the Daily Mail (the type that thinks everything's gone to wrack and ruin and that people under 25 and foreigners should be flogged daily)
The Night Before Chavmas

‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that a Playstation 3 would be there.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of X factor danced in their heads
And mamma in her nightie and I in my shorts
Had fallen to sleep with loud snoring and snorts
When out in the street there arose such a clatter
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter

Away to the window I flew like a flash
Tore open the curtains and threw up the sash
The moon on the breast of the warm winter grass
Showed that earth’s global warming had been very fast
When what to my wondering eyes should appear
But a small group of chavs much the worse for a beer
They were staggering home from a night at the pub
And wondering if they should now head to a club

More drunken than skunks they had slowly become,
The girls in their miniskirts must have been numb.
“Oi Tracy, hey Liam, hey Britney and Shane
Keep up Trish and Owen, Oi Kevin, Oi Duane!”
Urinating in doorways, throwing up ‘gainst a wall
I feared for the health of these kids, one and all.
Occasionally one of the boys threw a punch
At his friend, beside him, to connect with a crunch
It seemed that they’d been to the off-license too
With a bag of Lambrini and some Special Brew

They halted at last on my well-cared-for lawn
And regarded my house with expressions of scorn
“I wonder what this lot are getting this year”
Said a head-shaven youth with an obvious sneer
And all of a sudden I heard from downstairs
A tinkle of glass and a few muffled swears
I crept down the stairs to see who’d made the din
And then saw a chav through the window come in,
Dressed in Burberry from his head to his toe
His bright coloured Reebok’s were almost aglow

His eyes looked so vacant, his expression was grim,
With a cap on! At night! In the winter! How dim.
I hid by the stairs in the dark winter gloom
As he went to the Christmas tree in our front room.
He admired our 42 inch widescreen telly
And muttered: “I’ll nick these DVDs for my Shelley”
I wanted to phone the police very soon,
But I feared to be heard by the chav spelled my doom
I coughed and immediately he turned his head
And the look that he gave me did fill me with dread

But instead of the beating I thought would take place
He grabbed a few presents and off he did race
Through the window he dove with athletic aplomb
I was glad he was leaving to whence he came from
He shouted to mates “leg it guys we got clocked!”
Leaving me there alone feeling shaken and shocked
As they left I heard shouts ere they ran out of sight.
“Merry Christmas you guys what a fucking good night!”

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Voting Results

 
Pacing: 5.0
How Funny: 5.0
Overall Rating: 5.0

Total Votes: 5

Voting Breakdown

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User Comments

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Phil Alexander - November 04, 2007 - Report this comment
Brilliant, Alex.
Carmine (2-LOUD) Boccotesta - November 04, 2007 - Report this comment
Hey-e - ovah 'eah. Wees doan puts up wid watz dees guyz iz dewin' ovah 'eah watz iz my naborhood. Wees gots dat naborhood wadch goin' on alla-time. If'n it ain't Tommy (da tank) Tankcondozza owt dere den id mide be Pauley (the lard azz) Papalardo wats wud giv id to dees gamokes sum wat forz. Iz too bad wud happind ta ol' Luco Brazzi - he busted a guyz lakes wonce fer trowin; da papers hes wuz deliverin' in a disrespfull manner. Da boyz an' me wich ta extent ower soivices ta yous an' yous naborhood. Wees only needs a small percentige ov da acshun. Eneywayz hav yous a joy-yus holiday an' cunsider dis an offa yous shudn't refuge. 2-LOUD outta 'eah.
Guy - November 04, 2007 - Report this comment
These "Chavs" as I will prononce "Shavs" to make my point, should have the stuff they ripped off chaved up where the sun don't shine. Nice rewrite to a Christmas classic poem. 'ere ya go mate, 5 quid fer the effort.
littleCupCakes - December 18, 2007 - Report this comment
555 for Xmas in 'da hood!

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