2008 - A Pre-Crisis Visit from Sain T'Niklas

A PRE-CRISIS VISIT FROM SAIN T’NIKLAS.

By Clement C. Moore 5
Translated from Interlac

T’was the night before Pre-Crisis Christmas, when and all through our quarters
Not a creature was stirring, not even Proty.

The stockings were hung by the radiant heating fixture with care
In hopes that Sain T’Niklas soon would be there.

Graym and Validus were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;

And Imra in her kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap--

When out in Legion Square, there rose such a clatter
I sprung from my bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the view screen I flew like a flash,
Input my username and entered my password

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a giant space ship, and eight omnibeasts*

With a youthful looking pilot, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be Sain T’nik.

More rapid than tarocs** his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

"Now, Daxam! now, Braal! now, Rimbor and Durla!
On! Colu, on! Bgztl, on! Winath and Orando—

To the top of the porch, to the big giant “L”!
Now, dash away, dash away, dash away all!"

So, up to the rocket pad the coursers they flew,
With a ship full of toys -- and Sain T’Niklas too.

And then in a twinkling I heard on the roof,
The stomping and tromping of each giant hoof.

As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Over by the viewscreen, Sain T’Niklas materialized without a sound.

He was dressed all in synth-fur from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all covered with a personal trans-suit.

A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a holo-vid infomercial spokesperson just opening his pack;

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And if smoking hadn’t been outlawed in the 22nc century, the smoke would have encircled his head like a wreath.

He had a broad face, and a little round belly
That shook when he laughed, like a Bouncing Boy full-size action figure.

He was chubby and plump--a right jolly old elf;
And I laughed when I saw him in spite of myself only having one arm.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,

And laying his finger aside of his wrist-mounted-communicator,
And giving the word, he dematerialized.

He appeared in his ship, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a Winathian corn-thistle;

But I heard him exclaim, ere he flew out of sight,
"Merry Christmas to all, and try not to pay too much attention to continunity, because it is quite unreasonable to expect our modern chroniclers to hold fast and true to stories written almost fifty years ago, and besides it’s just a comic book, and to all a good night."

*Adventure Comics 309, “The Legion of Super Monsters”
** Adventure Comics 312, “The Super Sacrifice of the Legionnaires”


All right! It's time to reveal my dirty little secret. At 57 years old, I am a comic book fan. More specifically, a fan of the Legion of Super Heroes, a franchise of DC Comics that is over 60 years old. The Legion is a group of super-powered teenagers who fight crime and galactic invaders in the 31st century. If you are not familiar with the Legion, you won't get any of the jokes, but trust me, the fanboys who find there way here are LOLing and ROFing.

Next post: This year's Christmas message.