Twas the night before Yuletide, and all through the fjord, The Vikings were restless, their mead stores ignored.

“We’re out of good drink!” cried St. Ragnarik’s bellow, “Let’s go raid the monks – they’re all drunken, fat fellows!”

Our longship was readied, though noone stood straight, Bjorn tripped on the gangplank, Sven fell in the Strait.

Axes were polished, shields strapped to our backs,Though we wobbled so much we dropped half of our packs.

Off through the waves, we rowed with a song, “Hammer of the gods will drive us along!”

The oars clanged together, our rhythm askew, As we sang, drank more mead, and lost half the crew.

At last, the dark silhouette of the abbey appeared, Its windows aglow, and faint chanting we heard.

The monks, it was clear, were well into their ales,Their chants mixed with hiccups and bawdy drunk wails.

We stormed the front gate with a fearsome war cry, then Erik passed out, landing flat on a pie.

Torvald swung his axe, but missed by a mile, Knocking over a father and brother in style.

The monks turned to see us, their mugs raised in cheer,“More fellows to drink with! The mead’s over here!”

No sooner we charged with our weapons held high,Than were hit by a hailstorm of bread and mince pies.

The battle descended to slapstick mayhem,With axes and tankards both wildly swingin’.

Bjorn chased a monk, but slipped in spilled wine, And slid through a table with disastrous design.

One monk swung a sausage, and Erik cried, “Cease!” As the makeshift weapon hit him square in the knees.

Torvald got tangled in robes on the floor, While a barrel of ale knocked him straight out the door.

The abbey was chaos – both sides in a heap, Axes in numbers to rival Helms Deep

Pies soared through the air, horns clashed with baked bread, And laughter exploded as no blood was shed.

At dawn, we lay sprawled ‘neath the abbey’s high beams, Monks and marauders both lost in their dreams.

The loot was forgotten, the fight was no more, Just snores and spilled liquor across the great floor.

As the sun lit the abbey, the monks saw us away, “We’ll see you next Yuletide for more of this play! “

And we roared from our longship, as it sailed out of sight,“Happy Yuletide to all, and to all a good fight!”