Might be right... what sort of gift does Superaven like?
Also, remember we already had roast spiderpig.



'Twas a little past the mid of year,
When sipping drink I'd choke and sputter.
I spied above me creature dark, and down at me did sneer,
Somewhat like a spider this, but mostly fat and flubber.

"Ious Nox Ob"; it spat a spell, with a grin lacking veneer,
Toxic spray sent squirting from it's horrid little trotter.
"Ah!" I cried and Z came running wielding knife and spear,
"Where's the Witch!?" I cried again, "Fuck, we really need 'er".

And out from shadow G-Dub stepped and cast illusion clear:
"Piggy, wiggy on the ceiling - look a sow, go get her!",
Tricked, this beast, it took the bait - we waited til 'twas near,
Then stab and slash, we cut it up but "shh"; no need to blubber.

Quick it was - not a gruesome kill - there is no need for fear,
This strange odd thing it now was gone, but no it didn't suffer.
As Z did stab it turned about, and I slit from ear to ear,
It's steaming blood poured rapid out, filling up the gutter.

The squeal was short, then gurgle, pop - never again to jeer,
We cleaned him out and the dog cried out; some offal for the pupper!
Then on the spit our roast of pig - and another pint of beer,
This thing so high and mighty once; "Call Elf! We've got a tasty supper!"