GameCyte

It's officially Christmas here in the Pacific time zone where GameCyte makes its home, and we'd like to wish every one of you a happy, happy holiday. We sincerely hope your day brings an extra measure of joy to your life, and that today includes at least a little celebration of our favorite hobby. Perhaps Santa left a shiny new DS Lite in your stocking this year, or maybe there's a 120GB Elite tucked away under the tree with your name on it. If you've been very good, in fact, maybe you'll get the greatest gift of all.

Don't personally celebrate Christmas? Hey, it's the fifth night of Hanukkah tonight, too -- once the candles are lit, maybe there's a copy of LEGO Batman waiting for you after you finish all your latkes, look at you, you need to eat something, bubbie.

Even if there aren't any presents coming today, or you're not observing any of the myriad holidays, you can still enjoy yourself as a proud American citizen, enjoying a national holiday away from school or work by wasting the entire day on Rock Band or World of Warcraft. What the hell -- treat yourself to some new DLC, why don't you? If you're unlucky enough to be stuck at work today, you have our deepest sympathies, but cheer up -- your lazy boss probably won't be in today, your commute should be easier this morning, and business will probably be slow; it's a perfect chance to dig out your iPhone and sneak in a few games of Fieldrunners.

Christmas Day does mean one thing here at GameCyte: Our GameCyte Holiday Giveaway is now officially closed. Thanks and good luck to all of you who sent in your gaming carols! We're tremendously enjoying your cleverness and/or sacrilege, and we'll be posting the winning entries in one week's time, on New Year's Day.

For now, from every one of us here at GameCyte, we thank you kindly for being among our readers, and we bid you a very merry Christmas. As we retire to spend today with our loved ones, we leave you with yet another detestable mangling of the most often parodied poem ever written. Cheers!

Twas the night before Christmas, and 'neath the TV,
Not a console was running, not even the Wii.
The Xbox was silent, turned off for the night,
And the PS3 glowed with its red "standby" light.

My guildmates had signed off, "GG GOING TO BED"
While visions of epic loot danced in their heads.
With my accounts all signed off and AIM set "away,"
I had told my whole clan I was now AFK.

When from the headset there arose such a braying,
I leapt up to see who the hell was still playing.
Away to the sofa, I leapt with a flash,
Bewildered to hear someone still talking trash.

Some loon on the list of active gamertags
Gave a bluster of boasting, of taunts and of brags.
When popped up on my screen like a spam from the blue,
Came a one-on-one challenge of Gears of War 2.

As I started my match against "NICKYthaSLAYR,"
I figured this punk for some lame newbie player.
But soon I'd been blasted by lethal attacks --
This jerk was aimbotting, or using wallhacks!

"You cheater! You camper! You cheap, sniping punk!
You're hacking! You're stupid! That last kill was bunk!
Set the game up again! Start the rematch up quick!
A do-over! Do-over! DO-OVER, 'NICK!'"

As curses and scorn I began to let fly,
I was met with a chuckle and then with a sigh.
"It was only a game, don't let it get to you.
Maybe Gears ain't your best -- how about TF2?"

And then, with no loading, the new game did start,
I was on the BLU team, and was pushing the cart.
As the bomb neared the checkpoint (the voiceover cheered),
Mr. NICKYthaSLAYR once more reappeared.

He was dressed all in RED, from his head to his feet,
And his clothes bore the blood of the others he'd beat.
His ammo was full up and ready to fire,
And he looked like a psycho; a killer-for-hire.

His eyes, how they glinted! His laughing, how scary!
His frame as immense as a bear (though less hairy)!
His cruel little mouth was drawn up in a grin,
And his six-barreled gun was beginning to spin.

With bits of a sandvich still stuck in his teeth,
He let his shots fly, leaving shells underneath.
He laughed and said, "Want to play something else, n00b?"
With his gut shaking like a gelatinous cube.

He won every last game -- I got ganked by an elf,
Went scoreless in every sports game on my shelf.
I got zerg rushed and dragon punched, shot in the head,
Taken down during Burnout, smoked in Left 4 Dead.

Why me? What had I done to make him berserk?
When I asked, he replied, "Well, you've been a real jerk.
You've trolled on your forums, you quit prematurely,
And your headset demeanor is profane and surly."

"Consider this smackdown a warning," he hissed,
"So next year you'll stay off of my naughty list."
I blinked twice. "Santa goes 'round owning trolls?"
"Yeah, well, this year, it's much cheaper than coal."

Merry Christmas!