Twas the Week Before Black Ops

‘Twas the week before Black Ops and all through the clan,
Not a soldier was stirring, not one single man.
The controllers were hung by the Wii with great care,
In hopes that much greatness soon would be there.

The members were waiting by Gamestop that night,
While visions of Headbanging gave them no fright.
And Eagle on wings and d in his cap,
Had just settled down for a long boring nap.

When out in the world there arose such a clatter,
Uber sprang from his bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the store he flew like a flash,
Tore open the doors and grabbed for his cash.

The clerks in the store stared out in wonder,
At so many guests who started to blubber.
When what to their wondering eyes should appear,
But a shiny new game beside the cashier.

With a grumpy old man behind the store counter,
Wearing what else but large reindeer antlers.
With disarming speed so lively and quick,
He beat them all back with his giant boomstick.

Now Eagle, now Gunbar, now d and fine Uber,
On Nemesis, on Cat, nothing else matters.
To the top of the counter he stood mighty tall
With his lovely boomstick, fighting them all.

With many dry bones he made that stick sing,
Giving us all far more than a tap, more than a sting.
At the top of his lungs, above the high wall
He said “Take you your game, and dash away all!”

So out of the store the customers all flew,
With Black Ops in hand, all shiny and new.
Back to their house, and by their TV,
They inserted the game, right into their Wii

The old man in his store, waiting again
Ordered the doors shut by his trusty doormen
We still heard him exclaim, ‘ere the doors were shut tight,
“Happy Black Ops to all, and to all a goodnight!’