Twas the night before Christmas at Site-88,
And Robert the guard was running quite late,
All the skips were contained in their cells with such care,
That everyone hoped, as did Bob, they'd stay there,
His first order of business was to check on containment,
He changed channels, instead, to the night's entertainment,
It's a Wonderful Life, he'd seen it before,
And fell asleep then, for an hour or more.
There were those who had hoped, on this night before gifts,
That Robert would draw the short straw on the shifts,
And plans were hatched over seven months previous,
By a group of some interest with conspirators devious,
To release all the creatures contained at the site,
To fight the Foundation on Christmas Eve Night,
They knew that their plan, while courageous, was dumb,
But worth it, they thought, if it releases just one.
Gates one, two, and three were as easy as pie,
But they met resistance at gates four and gates five,
Bob startled awake at the sound of alarms,
And shouting, and death, and of course firearms,
He switched his monitors, checked all of the frequencies,
Hit the red button for containment emergencies,
On screens he could see, as they just made it in,
No one could get out, but inside they could win.
They'd planned well for that, and taking their chance,
The first cell on the right, at the placard they glanced,
And in looking, they saw there, One Seven Three,
Saw Euclid, and thought, how bad could it be?
The statue, Bob knew, so easily beaten,
But these stupid folk hadn't been to that meeting,
So as the last of their number closed his eyes in assent,
Bobby blinked once and the last one was bent.
He panicked then, and fell to the floor,
Scrambled and made his way outside his door,
The statue knew that's right where he would be,
And Bobby fell backwards, attempting to flee,
It pressed on his windpipe, strained vocal cords,
This is it, he imagined, and thought of last words,
"Muh… Merry Christmas," he croaked, as it began its attack,
"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good…" crack.