The worst Quackity Oneshots collection.

A very Quackity Christmas

This is my Christmas gift to you all, whether you want it or not.

Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house,
not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
Quackity lay sleeping alone in a chair.
Christmas or not, he just didn't care.

Every Christmas Quackity had felt sad.
The one time in his life he didn't feel like a chad.
A letter each year, Quackity would send,
Asking Santa for a sexy goth girlfriend.

And until now, awake he would stay,
Waiting for Santa 'til midnight on Christmas day.
But after years of waiting, it had now come to an end,
Quackity realized he would never get his girlfriend.

This year he had spent the whole day,
Pretending Christmas was still a year away.
There was no point in celebrating alone,
And now he lay unconscious, passed out on his throne.

But then out on the lawn, there arose such a clatter,
Quackity sprang from the chair to see what was the matter.
From a safe in the wall, he grabbed his gun.
Who said Christmas couldn't be fun?

Outside the window, above the cloud line,
Was a vision that made chills run down Quackity's spine.
He had finally found him, the fat old man.
Now Santa was here, Big Q had a plan.

He pressed his ears against the glass,
And listened for Santa as he passed.
And the sound he heard was a great booming cry,
Directed at the reindeer who all wished they could just die.

"Now TOMMY, Now TUBBO, Now AKSEL and HOOVER,
On KARL, On WILBUR, On JUNKY JANKER!
To the top of the porch! To the top of the Wall!
Now dash away, dash away, dash away all!"

Then with a horrible thumping, he heard on the roof,
The terrible stomping of each angry hoof.
As Big Q drew in his hand, and was turning around,
Down St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed in a maid outfit from his head to his foot.
Quackity wondered what it would look like on his friend Wilbur Soot.
No bundle of toys was slung on Santa's back,
Which caused him to wonder - Where was his sack?

With the gun clutched tightly in Big Q's hand,
It was time to play out what he had planned.
The click of the chamber drew the fat man's attention,
And as the two made eye contact, both felt the tension.

Then something happened that seemed very odd,
The weaponless Santa just gave him a nod.
"I know I've let you down," He said with a smile,
"Please put the gun away, and we'll talk for a while."

"Why have you broken into my place?"
Quackity demanded, anger flushing his face,
"Why should I talk to you? You've neglected my wishes.
I don't know why you aren't already swimming with the fishes!"

"A girlfriend. That's all you've asked from me.
Have you ever thought of anything else under your tree?"
Santa stared at the gun, but there was no fear in his eyes.
By now, Big Q decided shooting him would be unwise.

Lowering his gun, Quackity tilted his head.
"What is it you want?" Was all that he said.
"Have you ever thought the reason behind
Why every Christmas I've pushed you aside?"

From Quackity's lips, escaped not a sound.
"Big Q, I think you're the sexiest duck around.
I wanted you, right from the start.
Giving you a girlfriend would just break my heart."

It was in that moment that both of them knew,
That the words from Santa's heart were the truest of true.
For the meaning of Christmas is not being a Chad,
But rather finding the love that is meant to be had.

And as Quackity and Santa's lips finally met,
They both knew this would be the best Christmas yet.
As for what became of them, well we'll just say-
Neither was seen for all Christmas Day.

But Boxing Day night, there was one sound.
A voice rang out for miles around.
Quackity's final comment on the Christmas so white:
"Quacky Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"

Happy holidays everyone!
Love, Glonke.