HL2RP-The Night Before Christmas

[Dallas]

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the Nexus
Not a unit was stirring, not even a ZEALOT.
The bullets were stacked by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St Jonco soon would be there.

The citizens were nestled all cold in their beds,
While visions of rations danced in their heads.
And loyalist in her ‘armband, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our keyboards for a long winter’s nap.

When out in the plaza there arose such a clatter,
Units sprang from their beds to see what was the matter.
Away to the airlock they flew like a flash,
Tore open the doors and threw up the stunstick.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to cans below.
When, what to their wondering helmets should appear,
But a miniature gunship, and eight tinny OTA.

With a little old driver, so lively and strong,
I knew in a moment it must be St Jon.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

"Now KMP! now, Challenge! now, Kronic and Rolf!
On, RTLK! On, Alex! on, on Orange and raged!
To the top of the Nexus! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the UCH-tops the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of BMs, and St Jonco too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little boot.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St Jonco came with a bound.

He was dressed all in kelvar, from his head to his foot,
And his uniform was spotless of ashes and soot.
A bundle of Blackmarks he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a paedo, just opening his pack.

His eyes-how they glowed! his gas mask how merry!
His cheeks were like bone, his eyes coloured cherry!
His droll little mouthpiece was drawn up like a bow,
And the skull on his belt was as white as the snow.

The stump of a cigar he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad mask and a little round AR2,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of justice!

He was dreaded and scary, a right jolly old SeC,
And I pissed myself when I saw him, in spite of myself!
A stare of his eyes and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had everything to dread.

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 nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!

He sprang to his gunship, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Half Life to all, and to all a good-night!"

[Reimer]

Stop making me sad that we can't play HL2RP. 

[Mr. Pettit]

So beautiful.

[The Doctor, RIP Juggernaut]

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the pass
Not a human was stirring, not even the psychopaths.
The food were stacked by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St Matt(Lol selfishness) soon would be there.

The refugees were nestled all cold in their bags,
While visions of freedom danced in their heads.
And rebel in her vest, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our rifles for a long winter’s nap.

When out in the village there arose such a clatter,
refugees sprang from their bags to see what was the matter.
Away to the door they flew like a flash,
Tore open the doors and brought up the pistols.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to dirt below.
When, what to their wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature jeep, and eight tinny rebels.

With a little old driver, so lively and strong,
I knew in a moment it must be St Matt.
More rapid than bears his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

"Now Skyler! now, Dave! now, Eli and Joanna!
On, Connors! On, Beans! on, Meaty and Beefy!
To the top of the Clinic! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the bunker-tops the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of weapons, and St Matthew too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little boot.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St Matt came with a bound.

He was dressed all in black, from his head to his foot,
And his uniform was spotless of ashes and soot.
A bundle of weapons he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a paedo, just opening his pack.

His eyes-how they glowed! his face how merry!
His cheeks were like bone, his eyes colored cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the pistol on his belt was as white as the snow.

The stump of a cigar he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad chin and a little round revolver,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of fun!

He was happy and cheery, a right jolly old man,
And I hid myself when I saw him, in spite of myself!
A stare of his eyes and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had everything to love.

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 nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!

He sprang to his jeep, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Half Life to all, and to all a good-night!"


Yeah I ripped you off, had to make an Outlands version of it

[Sexy Frog]

Why. You fucking awful person who reopens closed wounds! DAMN YOU!