“Psycho Visits Who-Ville” – Poetry


Rewrite of The Grinch Who Stole Christmas originally by Dr. Seuss

© Sitarra “LullaDIEs” Sefton

Every Who down in Who-Ville liked Christmas a lot…

But the Psycho, who took over the North Pole, Did NOT!

Psycho hated Christmas! The whole Christmas season!

Now, please don’t ask why. No one quite knows the reason.

It could be that his head wasn’t screwed on quite right.

It could be, perhaps, that his dad beat him every Christmas night.

But I think that the most likely reason of all,

May have been that his heart never existed at all.

But, whatever the reason, His heart or his dads booze,

He sat there on Christmas Eve, hating the Whos.

Thinking in his dark, winter castle with a sour, Grinchy frown,

About the ever festive Whos celebrating in their town.

For he knew every Who in Who-ville was busy now,

Hanging a mistleoe wreath with awe inspired wow.

“And they’re hanging their stockings!” he snarled with a sneer.

“Tomorrow is Christmas! It’s practically here!”

Then he growled, joined by his pet polar bear,

“I MUST find a way to kill Christmas forever! It ends here!”

For, tomorrow, he knew…

All the Who girls and boys would wake up bright and early.

They’d rush for their toys!

And then the noise!

Oh, the happy, gleeful, ear shattering noise!

That’s one thing he hated! He despised their happiness and joy!

Then the Whos, young and old, would sit down to a feast.

And they’d eat! And they’d scarf! It was a disgusting display, like beasts!

They would start on Who-pudding, and rare Who-roast-beast,

Which was something our Psycho couldn’t stand in the least!

And THEN They’d do something he liked least of all!

Every Who down in Who-ville, the tall and the small,

Would stand close together, with Christmas bells ringing.

They’d stand hand-in-hand, and the Whos would start singing!

They’d sing! And they’d sing! It was an angelic sound,

That made Psycho nauseous and caused his head to pound!

The more Psycho thought of the Who-Christmas-Sing,

The more he thought, “I must stop this whole thing!

“Why for thirty-three years I’ve put up with it now!

I MUST stop Christmas from coming! …But HOW?”

He thought killing Santa would help him succeed,

He killed the reindeer and destroyed the toy factory!

Still the Who’s in Who-Ville gathered,

As if none of those deaths mattered.

Then he got an idea! An awful idea!


“I know just what to do!” Our Psycho laughed in his throat.

And he quickly grabbed Santa Clauses old hat and coat.

He chuckled, and clucked, “What a great evil trick!

With Santa’s magic, I can kill them all lickety split!

All I need is a reindeer…” Psycho looked around,

But since he killed all the reindeer, there was none to be found.

Did that stop Psycho Clause…? No! He simply said,

“If I can’t use a reindeer, I’ll use bears instead!”

So he called his polar bear Max, and asked him to grab his bear friends,

And he promised them all they could eat anyone with a Who head.

Then he loaded some deadly tools in some old red sacks,

On the magical sleigh and he hitched up old Max.

Then Psycho said, “Move out!” And the sleigh lifted from the ground,

Flying toward the homes where the Whos Lay a-snooze in their town.

All their windows were dark. Quiet snow filled the air.

All the Whos were all dreaming sweet dreams without care.

When he came to the first house in the square.

“This is stop number one,” Psycho Clause hissed,

And he climbed to the roof, weapon bags in his fist.

Then he slid down the chimney. A a quiet entry point.

It’s how the Who’s expected Santa to enter the joint.

He got stuck only once, for a moment or two.

Then he stuck his head out of the fireplace flue.

Where the little Who stockings all hung in a row.

“These Who’s,” he grinned, “are going to be easy, I know.”

Then he slithered and slunk, with a smile most unpleasant,

Around the whole house, and he killed everyone present!

The little Who girl! And the little Who boy! Who mommy and daddy too!

They were stabbed! They were choked! The Who dog was even hacked into two!

And he stuffed the dog in the stockings over the chimney,

Then Psycho left that gory house, back up nimbly!

Then he went to the next Who house and he did the same thing!

He slaughted those who’s like a master, a king!

But just as he went to dish out yet another slash.

Why, the Grinch appeared, angry and brash!

“Hello Grinch,” Psycho said, “What do you say?

Do you still hate Christmas or have you gone gay?”

And the Grinch grabbed Psycho, and he yelled, “ENOUGH!”

And he started to shove Psycho as if he were tough.

Psycho turned around fast, and he grabbed for his blade!

Grinch saw this and demanded Psycho behave.

Psycho was lost to his bloody desires, and he charged the Grinch,

But the green fuzz ball was ready, he tossed Psycho threw the window like a wrench!

As the glass shattered and broke,

All the remaining Who’s of Who-Ville awoke.

But for the Who’s to come out, Max and his friends were patiently waiting,

And to the Who’s in the street they unleashed their rage and hating!

Psycho smiled, “You see, I’ve brought some friends to fight on my side”,

“It doesn’t worry me.” The Grinch then lied.

“The Who’s ran around screaming, being torn apart by the bears.

They were very efficient, without remorse or care.

The Grinch lunged at Psycho, but he was old and fat,

Psycho dodged him and made his attack.

From behind the Grinch, Psycho side stomped his knee,

And with a loud crunch the Grinch fell to the ground in misery!

Psycho then grabbed his hairy,  green arm and bent it back ’til it broke,

And he stomped on his shoulder and pulled the arm now blood soaked.

Still he continued until the socket gave way,

And the arm was removed by Psycho, ripped away.

The Grinch begged and cried for Psycho to just leave the town,

But to the request Psycho only frowned.

He stomped the Grinches head into a pulverized mess!

And in his victory he grinned and hollered, “YES!”

The Grinch laid in a Who-Ville street, broken and dead,

His green fur covered by Christmastime red.

Psycho looked around at the damage now done,

The polar bears, it seemed, also had fun.

Their snow white fur was now crimson colored,

The Who’s in the streets halfway devoured.

“Pooh-pooh to the Whos!” he was evilly humming.

“They found out no Christmas is coming!”

And so he called Max and the rest of the bears covered in gore,

Back to the sled so as to deliver more Christmas horror.

“There are still cities and towns who refuse to accept Santa’s dead,

We need to visit them all, chop off their heads!”

Psychos orders were given, and the polar bears complied,

Flying off into the cold winter sky.

Searching for more victims, who refuse to believe,

That Christmas is dead, it’s now Psychos Eve.”


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s