T’was the Night Before TaBmas – by Nightowl

T’was the Night Before TaBmas

Twas the night before Christmas and all through my flat
Not a creature was awake… but my overweight cat.
The tree was trimmed. The gifts were all wrapped.
And Amazon.com had my credit cards maxed.
The stockings were hung and I was in bed.
Dreams of 2-liter TaBs in my head.
When all of the sudden, who would appear?
But jolly St. Nick, red suit and white beard.
He crept through the darkness and paused by the tree
Saw the TaB I’d left him and was duly intrigued.
“Oh good!” he cried, then turned beet-red.
“Oops, sorry!” he whispered. “Forgot Nightowl’s in bed.”
Then he took a big drink and whispered, “Not bad!”
He ignored the cookies. They weren’t as good as the TaB.
Then he filled my fridge with cans of pinstriped pink.
And 2-liter bottles of the world’s finest drink.
And he cried as he left, “Hope everyone’s happy!”
Ain’t it good to know that Santa’s a TaBbie?

Peace on earth, goodwill to humanity and cheap, abundant TaB for all!

Thanks Nightowl!

Happy Halloween, TaB style! – by Nightowl

Consider this: TaB backwards is “Bat,” making it the perfect beverage for Halloween!!

Some short, scary fiction for you now. You wake in the middle of the night. Something has made an odd noise in your hallway. You whisper in the darkness, “Who’s there?” The only answer is a chilly autumn breeze sighing through the trees just beyond your window. And then, you hear it again. It sounds like a something heavy being dragged.

It’s coming up the stairs.

Keeping your eyes on the dank grey light of the partially-opened door, you reach for your Louisville Slugger and get up slowly. Your heart now racing, you pound the barrel of the bat on the hardwood floors. “Get out of my house!” you scream.

It stops. And starts to withdrawl back down the stairs. So you creep quietly out the door, into the ghostly moonlight of the hall and to the black void where the stairs begin. The lightswitch, to your horror, doesn’t work, but you hear whatever it is, stepping off the stairs and towards your kitchen. And you follow, down the stairs. Your heart now pounding in your chest, you step off the stairs, blindly fumbling your way through the dark living room and place the bat’s head against the kitchen door. It’s in there. You know you must confront it. So you push the door open slowly with the bat. And there.. AND THERE.. AND THERE IT IS!! (chilling organ flourish here). Looking like a cross between a gorilla, a grizzly and an ET, it stands eight feet, covered with black full and red eyes, bathed in the yellow light of the fridge, which it has opened on its own. There, in its paw is- horror of horrors- YOUR LAST TaB!!

You let out a scream. But the creature lets out a big belch… and smiles at you.

Just be thankful you didn’t have Diet Coke in that ice box.

Happy Halloween, everyone!


Thanks Nightowl!