The Beatdown Before Christmas
‘Twas the beatdown before Christmas, when all through the pax
15 strong men were stirring, awake from their sacks;
The men were all stood by All Saints church with care,
In hopes that Saint Spud the Q soon would be there;
Private Ryan was nestled all snug in his bed;
While visions of 100 percent danced in his head;
But Phidip in his weight vest, and Luthor in his cap,
Had settled themselves for some pre-Christmas dap,
When down at the lower lot arose such a clatter,
El Ab sprang from his bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the rock pile Neverland flew like a flash,
Psycho T grabbed his favorite rock and started to dash.
The rain had held off and so had the snow,
For a beatdown depending on some music we know,
When what to Skinner’s wondering ears did appear,
But a miniature boombox and an iPhone to hear,
Tombstone and Homeland began moving so lively and quick,
They knew in a moment the Q must be St. Nick.
The songs started flowing and if Santa came,
10 reps of curls, overhead presses and skull crushers by name:
“Now, TP! now, LMU! now Anvil and Bozeman!
On, Grover! on, Catfish! on, Homeland and Fire Chicken!
To the grate halfway first! Make sure you don’t fall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”
When songs came bearing our lord and savior, then fly,
With 10 burpees the obstacle, leap to the sky;
So to the end of the lot, the pax they all flew,
Repeato for all 15 pax, and The QIC too—
And on it continued, it continued the pain
And as per usual the pax began to complain.
As YHC ran to the end, and was turning around,
Rapidly came Homeland, Catfish and Tombstone, they came with a bound.
The pax all dressed in sweat, from head to their foot,
The clothes soaked through and tarnished with asphalt soot;
A big heavy rock they had pushed in the air,
For 10 man makers for not knowing if Jesus or Santa was there
Grover’s eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the leaves he was peeping not covered in snow;
The stump of a rock he held tight in his hands,
he still kicked out asses with makers of man;
He had a broad face and a little round belly
That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I was shocked when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And did all his exercises; then turned with a jerk,
At 0615 YHC breathed through his nose,
And giving a call to Mary, to the rock pile the pax rose;
They sprang to a circle, prayed for Carole and Sylvia,
Then said the Lord’s Prayer and they hit coffeeteria.
And all the pax did exclaim, as they drove out of sight—
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”