T’was the night before Christmas, and all through the house

There were death traps a waiting, and nets all about.

The pitfalls were placed, through the bunker with care,

For all knew that soon St Nick would be there.


The tazers were timed, the quicksand was put,

to get that jolly  hobo in the butt.

T’was mischief about, and a girl in a suit,

to get a phat stack of holiday loot.


But a light burned her eyes, in a blink left her goal,

and she was piled six feet under mountains of coal.

So don’t mess with Santa, don’t put on a show,

for he is a master, of Christmas-kwondo.