Twas The Night Before Burning Crusade

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I’m sure you’ve all seen this floating around the internet, but I thought I’d post it here for posterity!

Twas the night before BC, and in World of Warcraft
Not a creature would /stir, /sing, /dance, /silly, or /laugh
The servers were hung, all instancing ceased
In hopes the expansion would soon be released

The children were nustled all snug in their beds
(Only orcs; no young tauren, trolls, or undeads)
And I, in my warlord’s gear, from PvP
Had just trekked to the inn for some rested XP

When out by the bank there arose such dissent
I wondered if Blizzard started a world event
I went into cat form, to ensure my good health
If demons were invading, I was gonna be stealthed

The moon didn’t light up the boring old dirt
(C’mon, some Ogrimmar snow couldn’t hurt!)
When what should I see, out there on the streets?
Twas a musclebound orc, and a mess of elites!

He was giving out buffs, which were awesome but brief
I knew in a moment it was the warchief
Was he giving a quest, or was this an illusion?
He started to /yell as we watched in confusion

“Come raiders, and twinkers, and casuals too!
Come on PvPers, get out of your queue!
To the top of the bank, to the top of the wall!
You can dash, you can mount, you can even slowfall!”

He jumped on the mailbox, to give rise to himself
I feared for a moment he’d become a night elf
But he did not /dance, or remove all his gear
So we all gathered round, and we lent him our ear

And then, on the bank, I heard from the roof
The prancing of two dozen large tauren hoofs
As I drew in my head, visions of taurens prancing
I was distracted by a female elf dancing

She was dressed in all epics, from her helm to her rings
They spat fire and did other impressive things
A bundle of loot she had flung on her back
And a two handed sword with a proc-cleave attack

Her eyes, how they twinkled! Her body, so thin!
She had golden hair, and odd, peach-colored skin!
Her droll little mouth was drawn up in a sneer,
As if immune to poly, stunlock, root, and fear

We all drew our weapons, and I readied my claws
I’d enjoy tasting elf blood dripping from my jaws
But Thrall raised his hammer, and let out a fierce growl
We all hesitated, hit by his piercing howl

“Her kind,” he claimed, “are not our enemies!
They don’t hide in shadows, they don’t even hug trees!
They all hate alliance, and see them as noobs!
Even if, like alliance, kids will stare at her… monitor tubes.” *ahem*

But from out in the crowd, came a shout, “She’s no ally!
You can tell from her int-based plate she’s a pally!
Her hotbar has bubbles and hearthstones adjacent!
You’ve brought us a target, we won’t be complacent!”

“But you see,” the elf said, her voice calm and malicious,
“I may have found the light, but I find it delicious.
We stole from their gods!” She screamed while she glowered.
“To mock claims that shamans are so overpowered!”

“But where,” I responded, “Did you get all your loot?”
“My chestpiece has less stats than one of your boots!”
She took out her hearthstone, and started to laugh,
As she showed me that it was now set to Shattrath

“I got them in Outland, just as you will.
In a month your new set is as useless as twill.
The Blasted Lands is where to bring this Horde
You know, when you levelled, that zone you ignored?”

“It’s a land of new quests, and wonderous gifts,
Of casual conent, and paradigm shifts.
So come to the portal, if you’ll continue playing,
And take on ‘You are not prepared!’ as your saying!”

She bubbled and hearthed, in true pally fashion,
But in her wake I had found a new passion
In this new land I’d find epic apparel
Perhaps I would even find something for feral!

Thrall raised his hammer, and looked nearly immortal
Then he jumped on his mount and rode for the Dark Portal
But I heard him exclaim, as we rode to our fate
“I hope when we get there, it will be release date!”