In his sinister sanctum, ‘neath a stove-pipe chapeau
Sat Snidley McGee, evil ruler of Red Stylo!
With a gleam in his eye (and a full glass of booze),
On the year’s dirty deeds, the villain did muse.
Swamped with pitches, scripts and artwork,
Enrica reached out to an unbeknownst jerk.
She brought on Snidley to assist with the edits,
Little knowing that, soon, she’d come to regret it!
In a dark, dreary dungeon, Enrica awoke.
Snidley’s gentle nature had been a cruel joke.
“Assistant?” he sneered. “I’m running this show!
Behold the new master of Red Stylo!”
Thinking of the company he’d roughly usurped,
Snidley cackled wildly (and, very rudely, burped).
His manners and treachery left him without friend.
Only a gaggle of cats shared his vile den.
There was Harvey, Rufus, Mittens and Gizmo
Zigfried, Fluffy Devil, and Little Hobo.
Embarrassed, they watched, thinking Snidley insane
As he continued his maniacal stroll down memory lane.
To conventions, shows, and other geek fairs
Red Stylo made the rounds, selling its wares.
A San Diego debut, riding the Dragon in Atlanta,
Snidley delivered comics like some demented Santa.
Kidnapped by Snidley in a manner most uncouth,
Enrica was joined by the chaps from Odd Truth.
“More TORCHBEARER!” he hatefully bade.
So they put out five issues and even a trade.
CITY OF WALLS joined the illustrious stable.
Even DRAGO BENTLEY wears the Red Stylo label.
For all these great books, Snidley took the glory.
(But he did next to nothing–that’s the truth of the story!)
Finished with his year-end rehash,
Snidley twirled his majestic mustache,
And turned his attention to what lay ahead.
To his Kitty Court, he drunkenly said.
“More Twisted Poe, with HOUSE OF MONTRESOR.
A sequel, written by my cursed predecessor,
to accompany our own CASK OF AMONTILLADO.
Enrica’s idea–I’ll take the credit, though.”
“Then Red Stylo will rise to new heights,
With a collection centered on Arthurian Knights!
And of course,” he said, with a devious wink,
“The knights need their Queen. That’s what I think.”
“More conventions and shows–ten lined up already!”
And then Snidley rose, on feet quite unsteady.
“My hostile takeover was just the beginning!
I could teach ol’ Charlie a thing or two about ‘Winning!'”
And though it was empty, he raised his glass for a toast,
And with slurred words, Snidley did brazenly boast,
“In the dawning New Year, my plans will unfurl.
Today, Red Stylo! Tomorrow, the world!”