A/n: What's this? A Christmas/Yule version of Sigma 6 I will Not? Apparently so. Drabbles ahead, drabbles for all! I'm in a rhyming mood.

Quick few notes, I just randomly chose Delong: if you don't know Achmed, google him: not sure if there really are paintball bombs: Canadians do NOT say eh a lot. Unless there is an American around (Sneaky Canadians, aren't we?).

Useless but interesting fact: Christmas, is much the same as Yule, which is a Pagan holiday, celebrated December 21. Also, Kriss Kringle is a Germany Pagan figure. Pretty cool, eh?

Disclaimer: I do not own G.I. Joe. Nor anything else within this story except for the ideas.

39. I will not create a rubber band ball (and run people over with it).

T'was the night before Christmas,

And all through the Titan,

Everybody was slurring,

Except the mouse.

The bands were strung around the ball with care,

In hopes that they could soon get out of there.

(20 minutes later...)

The Joes were all nestled up in bed,

As visions of hangovers danced in their heads.

And Scarlett in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,

Had just lied down for the long winter's "nap".

When down the hall, there arouse such a chatter,

I sprang from my bed, to see what's the matter.

Out of the door, screaming, "Watch my back"!

I ran the possiblites of being under attack!

The ball was glorious, in a frightening manner,

Made Tunnel Rat squirm, to and fro.

Then who was it to appear?

But a bald headed freak, and a miniature deer.

With beady little eyes, devious and quick,

I knew in that moment, "Jolly" St. Nick!

As rapid as beagles, he turned and gleamed,

And he whistled and shouted, all of our names,

"Now Duke. Now Scarlett. Now Tunnel Rat and Spirit!

"On Jinx. On Kamakura. On Hi-Tech and Stone!

To the bottom of the sea! To the bottom of them all!

Run away! Run away! Run away all!"

As a Joe trained and raised to fly,

Stone quickly ran and hid, oh my!

So out came the weapons, in colours of blue!

With a bag filled with toys, St Nick flew.

Before anyone could react, the dormant rubber ball began to roll down the hall, smashing away! Smashing away all! Duke ducked out of the way, when he heard a loud splat and looked up to see their grinning crook, Snake Eyes. Apparently, Snake Eyes had forgotten- There had been Joes in the way! And everyone knows, you run over Scarlett, and she'll make you pay.

40. I will not orchestrate bombs to go off in the tune of Jingle Bombs. On a side note: Jingle Bombs is banned to be sung.

"Dashing through the sand! With a bomb strapped to my back, I got a nasty plan, for Christmas in Iraq! I got to check point A, but not to check point B-" Tunnel Rat's lovely rendition of Achmed the Terrorists song was silence, by a very mad looking Heavy Duty.

"Knock it off, will ya? Have some respect!" From across the room Duke nodded in agreement.

"Yea, TR. Some people might find it offensive," said the blonde. Tunnel Rat muttered something under his breath, and turned to walk out of the room.

It was a beautifully cold day, and the Sea Titan had docked at Halifax, Nova Scotia, so that Scarlett and Hi-Tech could go off to Lunenburg, to find a DeLong Christmas tree. Why they wanted a Christmas tree from DeLong, was unbeknownst to everyone else, but whatever. At least they got to find out if Canadians really did say eh a lot.

"I hate today," muttered Tunnel Rat coldly under his breath, kicking at the deck. "Ain't no snow, and I ain't heard no one say eh yet. Those TV programs lied, those lil' buggers." He walked off of the deck, and began heading into the city. Suddenly, he heard the words that may just save his Christmas spirit.

"Yes! Paint bombs! They blow up, but spray paint and don't kill! Cool, aren't they?" Tunnel Rat whipped around, and looked at two boys standing outside what looked like a paint ball shop. Perfect.

Duke stared, eyes wide, mouth a gasp, as Tunnel Rat bowed, as in the background, small paint bombs went off, splattering paint all over the deck. At least it was festive...

41. I will not ask if my pants make my butt look big.

Duke examined his reflection, pouting at the reflection. Maybe it was just him? Yes, it was probably just him, or a trick of the light.

Heading out of his room, Duke looked around and beamed as he saw Spirit walking down the hallway.

"Spirit! Come here for a second!" Duke called, waving the man over. Nervously, Spirit drew closer, afraid of the odd gleam in his friend's eye. "DO these pants make my butt look big?" Spirit had to blink and do a retake.

"Excuse me?"

"Do these pants make my butt look big?"

Feeling highly wary, and disturbed, Spirit glanced around. If this was a trick to make him look gay... No cameras. No one approaching. Spirit looked at Duke's rear end, and had to force his eye not to twitch.

"Yes, they do make your butt look bigger," the shaman replied, calmly. Duke's mouth fell open and he glared at Spirit.

"Bigger? Bigger! ARe you saying I have a huge butt without wearing these pants?"

"No, I-"

"You rude, son of a sheep! How dare you!" Duke charged into his room, slamming the door behind him. He wouldn't let his once "friend" see him cry. Spirit was just jealous, that's all. Not every one could have such a beautiful butt!

Meanwhile, outside of Duke's room...

Spirit stood there eye twitching. Not even a woman was that bad.

42. I will not sell anyone's picture to the tabloids.

All was well at the North Pole. All the presents made, and the sleigh ready. So, of course, Santa Claus was feeling pretty darn good. Until he saw 'it'.

"Rudolph! Get me the phone!

Kamakura screamed in pure terror as he ducked out of the enraged Spirit's way.

"Get back here!"

"Never! I will never let you destroy this picture!" The nimble ninja leaped up, and scuffled into a nearby air vent, chuckling proudly as he heard Spirit swear down below. He had won.

Until he felt the glare of a horde of little children behind him, further back in the vent.

"You the Kamakura who published this photo to the tabloids?" asked the toughest little girl Kamakura has ever seen, holding up a picture of a very drunk Spirit and Mall Santa hugging, with the title, "Merry Gaymas!". Kamakura nodded ever so slightly.

He really wished he hadn't.

43. I will not clone myself.

Proud that he had gotten the tree he wanted, Hi-Tech beamed proudly at Scarlett.

"Told you, the best trees are grown here," he said, positively beaming. Scarlett rolled her eyes and chuckled, getting into the cab of the beat up truck they had rented.

"Yea, they sure are. Smell that fresh salt air too. It mixes pretty nice with the pine," she commented, starting the engine. Eagerly, Hi-Tech hopped into the passenger seat. He buckled in, and gave the thumbs up for her to start driving. While tree shopping, he had come up with a most marvellous idea.

As soon as he got back, and the tree was successfully stood up in the rec room, he had hidden in his lab, cackling evilly. Fearing for their lives, everyone stayed well away from the lab.

Imagine their fright as a horde of Hi-Techs rushed from the room, all laughing evilly.

"It worked! It worked!" they chanted. It was at this time that Cobra had decided to attack, but seeing all those Hi-Tech's they decided to run away. Fast.

44. I will not impersonate Santa. (Even if it's too sneak into Cobra's base.)

Snake Eyes hated Christmas.

Squirming through the tightness of the small chimney, Snake Eyes swore silently and continued on his way, squirming. The suit was heavy, and he was starting to become claustrophobic. Oh, the irony of the situation.

"Snakes... there?" The radio was mostly static sounding, and Snake Eyes tried to tap out Morse Code.


He continued on his way, and swore silently once again. The suit had snagged. This was to painful of an experience. He needed a pay raise.

After five more minutes of pure hell, he slid out of the chimney, and walked over to the brightly light Christmas tree. He opened the sack he had brought, and began pulling out the neatly wrapped presents. He set them under the tree, and turned to walk back to the chimney.

"Santa?" Snake Eyes turned around and froze. A clearly drunk Storm Shadow stood before him, wearing footie pyjamas and holding a headless teddy bear under his arm. Storm Shadow stumbled forward and hugged Snake Eyes.

"Santa," he whispered. "Please, I'm sorry. Please, tell my sword brother Snake Eyes that I love him." Releasing the "Santa", the drunken Storm Shadow scuffled off, leaving Snake Eyes to stand there. He headed back to the chimney, a new skip in his step, and gladly climbed up the chimney. It was worth it.

And it is said, his heart grew three times that day.

A/n: Happy holidays everyone, and I hope you'll take the time to drop me a review.