'Twas the night before Kharaasmas, when all through Nothing
Not an alien was stirring, not a Skulk, not a thing;
The first hive was hung in the Great Viaduct,
In hopes that some Onos soon would erupt;
The Skulks were nestled all snug in their hive,
Dreaming of Frontiersmen (and eating them alive);
A Lerk with his spines, and a Gorg with his girth,
Had just begun gestating, preparing for birth,
When suddenly Frontiersmen started to build,
So the hive spawned three Skulks; the marines soon were killed.

Away to the rafters, our Lerk flew like a bird,
And spiked a marine (who used a nasty word),
As our Gorg began waddling in search of resources,
And Skulks tore apart the Frontiersman forces.
(But no gore on the breast of marines who were dead;
Don't argue with Flayra, "No blood," he has said).
But what to the hivemind's hive sight should appear,
Eight yellow circles, marines drawing near,
They thought they were sneaky, but soon they would grieve,
'Cuz a Skulk's parasite's a friend who won't leave.
Yet onward they rushed, LMG's spouting flames,
As the Com gave them waypoints and shouted their names;

"Now, NSPlayer! Now, L33tD3wd! Now, Roxor and Llama!
On, Kill3r! On Slayor! On, Gibber and Tramma!
To the top of the Silo, to the Cargo Bay, stat,
Obey my waypoints and a Shottie you'll get."

But the newbie Com must have forgotten Team Chat
And his quickly typed orders to all were broadcast.
Under the elevators, our Gorg dropped his gift,
Stacking OCs and DCs under the lift.
While at Cargo the Skulks ripped apart the Phase Gate,
Then took down the TF; the marines were too late.
And our hive pumped out more Skulks, and so the game went...
Till the sneaky marines built a Siege in the vent.

The hive started to shake, the hive started to quiver,
And when the hive died, the Skulks started to shiver.
It seemed the marines would bring certain doom,
As the Skulks F4'd back to the old Ready Room,
But our Gorg was a smart one, he'd started a hive,
Power Silo went up; the Kharaa were alive.
They started a rebound, took back Viaduct,
Ate up the Siege (man those marines really sucked).

Pretty soon there were two hives, and of course that means Fade;
Acid bombs soon rained down on the marine's sad parade,
As our chubby old Gorg tried to put up hive three,
And the Frontiersmen got their HA and HMG.
Grenade launchers launched, jet packers packed,
Against the Kharaa the odds seemed to be stacked;
The hive took a hit, the Fades started to buckle...
And just then, from the shadows, an unearthly chuckle.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to the scene,
Charging IPs, paralyzing marines.
Fades rallied with Bile, spore clouds flew from the Lerk,
As our jolly old Onos did his jolly old work.
The marines were defeated, the Com took his last breath,
(The final Frontiersman got Babbled to death).
Team 2 had won, and our hivemind was pleased,
Nothing Station was ours, assimilated with ease,
"You've done your job well," said the hivemind, "Good style!;
Happy Kharaasmas to all. Resistance is Futile!"