A Visit from Rodvik (with apologies to Mr. Moore)

A long-standing tradition since 2011, Bay City's own resident poet (brewer, newspaper publisher, insurance agent, arsonist, spammer) Ever Dreamscape has posted to the MySL feed her rendering (in both senses of the word) of the classic Clement Clarke Moore's A Visit from St. Nicholas. This year, she has graciously (or at least as payment for posting lewd pictures of me that I myself totally posted hitherto fore) is her epic ode, A Visit from Roderick.

A Visit from Rodvik

Twas the night before Christmas and all thro' the lot,
Not a creature on radar not even a bot.
The stockings were rezzed by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Rodvik soon would be there.
The moles were nestled all snug in their dens,
While visions of mesh danc'd in their heads.

My alt, who was ruthed, and I in bald cap,
Were just logging off for a long restart's nap.
When out on the sculpty lawn there arose such a clatter,
I stood from my totally G rated bed (honest”) to see who was griefing me this time!

Away to the teleport I flew like a flash,
Clicked on my mini map, and waited to crash.
I turned up my draw distance and opened an AR,
With graphics on high I could really cam far.
When what to my V3.67891-2a did soon rez,
But a sleigh full of prims and eight noobs (one wearing a fez)

With a Gorean driver, wearing a pixelated stick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Rodvick.
More rabid than vampires his coursers they came,
And he gestured, and shouted, and call'd them by name:
Now! dasher101 now! dancer22 now! prancertheromancer13 and hotchickvixen24
On! cometcutie92 on! cupid4U69 on! donder95 and blitzenishawt;

"To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!
"Now animate! Animate! Animate all!"
So up to the skybox the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of premium gifts — and St. Rodvick too:
And then in a frame, I heard on the roof
The freebie clicky heels of each little goof.
As I opened my pan zoom, and was camming around,
Down the teleport St. Rodvick rezzed with a bound:

A new shopping bag was rezzed on his head,
And he look'd like a newbie confused and full of dread:
He was skinny and tall, sliders raised %100
And I activated my laugh gesture, a move I'd lament;
A wink of his eye, wow he must have a face animation
Made me wonder if I 'd be better off gaming on Playstation.

Not a chat or IM, he went straight to his work, 
And rezzed freebie crap all over; wow what a jerk,
And after his avatar had seemingly froze
He walked into a wall, then up the teleport he rose.
He sat on his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew, like the down of a thistle:
But I then heard him shout, ere he drove off the sim
Happy Second Life to all, don't leave for Skyrim!