How the Lord Hater Stole Christmas!

Every Cartoons down in Cartoonville like Christmas a lot... But Lord Hater, Who lived the ship for Cartoonville, Did NOT!

Lord Hater hated Christmas! The whole Christmas season! Now, please don't ask why. No one quite knows the reason.

It could be his head wasn't screwed on just right. It could be, perhaps, that his shoes were too tight.

But I think that the most likely reason of all, May have been that his heart was two sizes too small.

Whatever the reason, His heart or his balloons, He stood there on Christmas Eve, hating all Cartoons.

Lord Hater hates Spongebob, Uncle Grandpa, Peppa, Wander, Ren, Stimpy, Lincoln and all his gang, And even Lord Hater hates all the cartoons and even he hates boomerang.

Staring down from his ship with a sour, Hatey frown, At the warm lighted windows below in their town.

For he knew every cartoon down in Cartoon ville beneath, Was busy now, hanging a mistletoe wreath.

"And they're hanging their stocking!" Uncle Grandpa snarled with a sneer, "Tomorrow is Christmas! It's practically here!"

Then he growled, with his Lord Hater fingers nervously drumming, "I MUST find some way to stop Christmas from coming!"

For Tomorrow, he knew, all the Cartoon girls and boys, Would wake bright and early. They'd rush for their toys!

And then! Oh, the noise! Oh, the noise! Noise! Noise! Noise! That's one thing he hated! The NOISE! NOISE! NOISE! NOISE!

Then the cartoons, young and old, would sit down to a feast. And they'd feast! And they'd feast! And they'd FEAST! FEAST! FEAST! FEAST!

They would feast on pudding, and rare the roast beast. Which was something Lord Hater couldn't stand in the least!

And THEN They'd do something He liked least of all! Every cartoons down in Whoville, the tall and the small,

Would stand close together, with Christmas bells ringing. They'd stand hand-in-hand. And the cartoons would start singing!

They'd sing! And They'd sing! And They'd SING! SING! SING! SING!

And the more Lord Hater though of this Cartoon Christmas sing, The more Lord Hater thought, "I must stop this whole thing!'

"Why, for fifty-three years, I've put up with it now! I MUST stop this Christmas from coming! But HOW?"

Then he got an idea! An awful idea! LORD HATER GOT A WONDERFUL, AWFUL IDEA!

"I know just what to do!" Lord Hater laughed in his throat. And he made a quick Santy Claus hat and a coat.

And he chuckled, and clucked, "What a great Hatey trick! With this coat and this hat, I look just like Saint Nick!"

"All I need is a reindeer..." Lord Hater looked around. But, since reindeer are scarce, there was none to be found.

Did that stop the Lord Hater? No! Lord Hater simply said, "If I can't find a reindeer, I'll make one instead!"

So he called his pet, Captain Tim. Then he took some red thread, And he tied a big horn on the top of his head.

THEN He loaded some bags and some old empty sacks for a brim, On a ramshackle sleigh and he hitched up Captain Tim.

Then Lord Hater said, "Giddap!" and the sleigh started down, Toward the homes where Cartoons lay asnooze in their town.

All their windows were dark. Quiet snow filled the air. All the cartoons were all dreaming sweet dreams without care. When he came to the first little house on the square.

"This is stop number one superstar," Lord Hater hissed, and he climbed to the roof, empty bags in his fist.

Then he slid down the chimney. A rather tiger pinch. But, if Santa could do it, then so could be Lord Hater. That will be a good twitch.

He got stuck only one, for a moment or two. Then he stuck his head out of the fireplace flue.

Where the little cartoon stockings all hung in a row. "These stockings," he grinned, "are the first things to go!"

Then he slithered and slunk, with a smile most unpleasant, Around the whole room, and he took every present!

Pop guns! And bicycles! Roller skates! Drums! Checkerboards! Tricycles! Popcorn! And plums!

And he stuffed them in bags. Then Lord Hater, very nimbly, Stuffed all the bags, one by one, up the chimney!

Then he slunk to the icebox, He took the feast! He took the puddling! He took the roast beast!

He cleaned out that icebox as quick as a flash. Why, that Lord Hater even took their last can of hash!

Then he stuffed all the food up the chimney with glee. "And NOW" grinned Lord Hater, "I will stuff up the tree!"

And Lord Hater grabbed the tree, and he stared to shove, When he heard a small sound like the coo of a dove.

He turned around fast, and he saw a little you. Lola Loud, who was not more than two.

Lord Hater has been caught by this little girl daughter, Who'd got out a bed for a cup of cold water.

She stared at Lord Hater and said, "Santy Claus, Why? Why are you taking our Christmas tree, why?"

But, you know, that Lord Hater was so smart and so slick, he thought up a lie, and he thought it up quick!

"Why, my sweet little tot," the fake Santy Claus lied, "There's a light on this tree that won't light on one side."

"So I'm taking it home to my workshop, my dear. I'll fix it up there. Then I'll bring it back here."

And his fib fooled the child. Then he patted her head, and he got her a drink and he sent her to bed.

And when Lola Loud went to bed with her cup, he went to the chimney and stuffed the tree up!

Then the last thing he took was the log for their fire! Then he went up the chimney, himself the old liar. On their walls he left nothing but hooks and some wird.

And the one speck of food that he left in the house, was a crumb that was even too small for a mouse.

Then he did the same things to the other cartoon's house leaving crumbs much too small for the other cartoon's mouses!

It was quarter past dawn... All the cartoons, still a-bed, All the cartoons, still asnooze when packed up his sled,

Packed it up with their presents! The ribbons! The wrapping! The tags! And the tinsel! The trimmings! The trapping!

Three thousand feet up! Up the side of Mt. Crumpit, he rode with his load to the tiptop to dump it!

"PoohPooh to the cartoon!" he was hateishly humming. "They're finding out now that no Christmas is coming!"

"They're just waking up! I know just what they'll do! Their mouths will hang open a minute or two, then the cartoons down in Cartoonville will all cry Boohoo!"

"That's a noise," grinned Lord Hater, "That I simply MUST hear!" So he paused. And Lord Hater put his hand to his ear.

And he did hear a sound rising over the snow. It started in low. Then it started to grow.

But the sound wasn't sad! Why, this sound sounded merry! It couldn't be so! But it WAS merry! VERY!

He stared down at Cartoonville! Lord Hater popped his eyes! Then he shook! What he saw was a shocking surprise!

Every who down in Cartoonville, the tall and the small, was singing! Without any presents at all!

He HADN'T stopped Christmas from coming! IT CAME! Somehow or other, it came just the same!

And Lord Hater, with his skeleton-feet ice-cold in the snow, Stood puzzling and puzzling, "How could it be so?"

"It came without ribbons, It came without tags! It came without packages, boxes or bags!"

And he puzzled three hours, till his puzzler was sore. Then Lord Hater thought of something he hadn't before!

"Maybe Christmas," he thought, "doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas...perhaps...means a little bit more!"

And what happed then? Well... in Cartoonville they say, That Lord Hater's small heart grew three sizes that day!

And the minute his heart didn't feel quite so tight, he wizzed with his load through the bright morning light,

And he brought back the toys! And the foot for the feast! And he, HE HIMSELF! Lord Hater carved the roast beast!