“Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the Hub, not a creature was stirring. Not even a weevil.”
Ianto sniggered.
“Don’t laugh,” scolded Jack indignantly. “It’s a Christmas poem.”
“With a slight variation.”
“Actually it’s the original,” said Jack. “You wanted to be Christmassy, so shut up and listen.”
“Season’s greetings to you too
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