Author's Note:

It would be sacrilegious to post this on Christmas, as that is a holy day to Doctor Who fans, and Doctor Seuss fans, and I think also Christians.

And, while I have VERY much experience in all three of those fandoms, and plenty of respect for them...

I am poking some... slightly bitter fun at them all, here.

So, instead, I posted it on Amok Time Day.

Hope this resolves the problem.

How the Doctor Brought Christmas

The Whos down in Who-ville

Liked singing and feasts

But the plains still stampeded

With not-yet-Roast Beasts.

'Twas the night before Christmas

And nobody knew.

It was pre-Christian times

In the Kingdom of Who.

No mission had reached them

To try and convert

So, like Adam in Eden,

Just formed from the dirt,

They lived on their dust-speck

And kept to themselves;

No thoughts about Santa

or reindeer, or elves.

The world out beyond

They had not tried to find...

They as yet had no reason

To name their own kind,

So they were not yet Whos

And the dust-speck they claimed

Was not yet called Who-ville;

It had not been named.

But, that night before Christmas

It fell, from on high

Like a giant blue present,

Wrapped up in the sky...

And from out of the wreckage

A man struggled free!

He was bleeding and raving

As all rushed to see,

And he cried "Merry Christmas!"

None knew what he meant.

And they asked him, instead,

Just from where he'd been sent?

And what sort of fellow

Could fall from so high?

And what sort of box

Could be able to fly?

So he told them his story

Of warping through space

When, through desperate measures

He'd come to this place,

For his Box had been seeking

A safe place to hide...

And it knew that this dust-speck

Was Bigger Inside.

And size doesn't matter,

The Box could recall,

For a Person's a Person,

No matter how small!

But it crashed, and it wounded

The Person inside...

Who informed them it wouldn't

Be long til he died.

So he told them his stories

Of Stars that had shined,

And the War that had left him

The Last of his Kind,

And he told them of Christmas,

As hours rolled by.

Saying, "Christmas is Special!"

Of course, they asked why.

So he spoke of Tradition,

Of puddings and feasts,

And the Star in the West,

and the Kings from the East,

And of old "Father Christmas"

Or "Santa," who came

To bring Presents of honor

And Coal-lumps of shame.

And he told his adventures

From year after year:

The tales of each Christmas!

Of Danger, and Fear!

Of Daleks and Plastics,

Of Cybermen too,

Who would come to your world

To steal Christmas from you!

"Do they come from Above?"

Asked the people in fear.

"And what is Above,

And how could it get here?"

"For here on this Dust-speck

We sing and we feast,

But we never see stars,

In our West or our East."

"And sometimes, up North

There's some dusty white snow

But there's no danger there...

At least not that we know!"

"Well, I wouldn't look there,"

he assured them. "You see,

Your danger won't come

From the north, probably.

...But you never can tell,"

He abruptly put forth.

"Because... plenty of worlds

Have a South and a North."

Due to internal bleeding

His life couldn't last,

And his hearts, in edema

Grew three sizes, fast.

And as he was dying

His followers came,

And begged, "Oh great prophet!

Please tell us your name...

So our world from now on

Can be named after you!"

He replied, "I'm the Doctor."

They cried: "Doctor who?"

But, alas, with no answer

His life slipped away,

And everyone mourned him

That first Christmas Day.

But then, three days later,

They found, at the dawn

That his grave had been emptied!

The Box, too, was gone!

All marveled in wonder,

And wondered for years

Who the stranger had been

Who'd brought bright Christmas fears.

And what was his name?

Was it "Strange"? Was it "Seuss"?

The name was the Doctor's.

They still don't know Whose.

So their world was named Who-ville,

All countries the same,

Except for Up North...

Which was given no name.

For the North was Above,

From which Danger could fall

And this Danger was taught

To all Whos, big and small.

And, up north of Who-ville,

The people died out

For the rest of their world

Did not want them about.

And many years hence

There was One left behind.

The Grinch, North of Who-ville:

The Last of his Kind.

Fanworks: Fics: Crossovers: How the Doctor Brought Christmas

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