T'was the night before Christmas, And all through Fountain
Not a Broski was stirring, Not even St Boltzmann.
The Rifters were hung on the gates with care,
In hopes that Wheniaminspace would soon be there.

The newbros were nestled all snug in their beds,
While vision of battleships danced in their heads.
And Kurth in his Chimera, and I in my Thanny,
Had just settled our down from the Christmas party.

When straight from the Intel channels arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my hangar to see what was the matter.
Away to the gate I flew like a flash,
When in a bubble I landed, and my face it was smashed!