I wrote a poem in honor of tonight's last night before Cataclysm ships, thought I'd share it here.
Twas the night before Cata, when all through the servers
Not a farmer was spamming, with their usual fervors.
The tradeskill mats were hung at the AH with care,
In hopes that they would sell before Cata could get there.
Programmers were nestled, all snug in their cubes.
With visions of ones and zeroes, flying down the tubes.
And mamma with New Vegas, her laptop on a FAQ.
Had just settled down for a nice pregnant nap.
When out in the living room there rose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the front door I flew like Adobe Flash.
Threw open the mailbox, 40 bucks cash.
The moon through my PJ's did kind of show,
Gave a hint of the abandon I would soon know.
When, what to my watering eyes should appear,
A box from Amazon, hands throw up in a cheer.
With a video driver, directx 11.
I knew I would be in graphic-rendering heaven.
More rapid than eagles, the files came.
And I whistled and shouted and called them by name!
Now bin files, now cabs and zips and all the fixins!
On DLL's, version updates; watch how the hourglass spins!
Onto the slave drive, right through the firewall.
Plenty of disk space, disk space for all!
Azeroth heaves and continents do fly,
Imagine my priest in the Lordaeron sky.
Up to the new zones my recruit-a-friend rocket flew,
With a flash and a zoom, I took Khriurk there too!
And then, in trade chat I heard such a goof.
Prattling and trolling, generally aloof.
Turning, confused, I heard such a sound,
In my living room was Thrall in a bound.
Dressed in epics from head to foot,
His shaman gear was heroic, simply put.
A 50-slot bag tied to his back,
This was no ordinary Frostweave sack!
His tusks, how they twinkled! His green grin so merry!
His green nose was frozen, like a giant blueberry.
His giant orc mouth, drawn up like a bow.
And the totems at his side, did let the mana flow!
The stump of a gnome held tight in his teeth.
A crown of Nelf ears he wore like a wreath!
He had a worn face, was kinda smelly,
This was no commercial you'd see on the telly!
He was rough and gruff, a mean old orc.
I cowered when I saw him, boy what a dork!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave the Alliance plenty to dread.
He growled not a word, but went straight to work,
"I hope they tested this shit, or I'll look like a jerk!"
And laying his finger way into his nose,
giving a nod, up the fire escape he rose!
Jumped on his cell phone, called QA to hustle,
To Blizzard they flew, into the bustle.
But I heard him exclaim as he flapped out of sight,
"Happy Cata to all and to all a good night!"