Not a filk, but a parody of "'Twas The Night Before Christmas"
by Deanna Rubin

Twas the Night Before DDRmas (DDRmax?), or Account of a Visit from St. Naoki

Twas the evening of Wednesday, and to my best guess
Not a creature was stirring on the BBS.
My sneakers were hung by the door of my room
In hopes that I'd get to play DDR soon.

The players were waiting, their cards up in lines,
While visions of AAA's danced through their minds,
And I in my Prism, heading east off I-5,
Had just settled down from a good evening's drive,

When at the arcade there arose such a chatter,
I ran from my car to see what was the matter.
And off to the MAX2 I flew like a flash,
In the night I could see the machine's sudden crash.

There stood a bishonen, so solemn and sulky,
I knew in a moment it must be Naoki.
More rapid than devils his courses they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

"Now, Pop8! BeForU! Now Fine Choice and Kidou!
On Nearly 130, Soul6 and From Solo!
To the top of the screen! Watch the arrows there fall!
Now stomp on them! Combo them! Combo them all!"

His eyes, how they snickered! His smile so phony!
His laugh was so evil, that man who made Oni.
His cowboy hat tipped like some guy from the west,
And dared us to pass every course, like a test.

We spoke not a word, but went up, one by one.
In singles and doubles the courses were done.
Some cleared all their songs, managed to get away;
The rest of us cowered, feared what he would say.

He was towering and mean, like a scary old elf
And I sighed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
With a look of disgust at we scum who failed Trick,
He said "Get off the stage, you all make me feel sick!"

Then I drove far away, back to my safe abode.
Went to sleep so I'd forget the whole episode.
So the point of this long rambling poem just is:
Happy Wednesday to all, and I'll see you at IZ!