A Mega Glomp Christmas Poem

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. But then came a whisper, a giggle, a squee, and down fell the MGer, hiding in the tree. From their hands slipped a net with a ribbon and a bow, and an engraving that said 'Santa Claus, catch him by the toe.'

A head appeared from beneath the Christmas couches and a hand quickly covered a laugh and a giggle. The MGers were ready with their tranq guns and glitter, and their hearts were a-racing, all beating a-flutter. Upon the side table there sat on a pristine white platter a collection of cookies, and the dough and the batter, each poisoned with an assortment of non-fatal knock-out matter.

It wouldn't be long till their hero arrived, and he bumped into this: the MG surprise! From the window peered a young MGian newb, on the lookout for that red-suited old dude. And down with a crash came Santa in his sleigh, as he halted upon the slick snowy driveway. He shielded his eyes as he peered at the house, which appeared to be silent, no sign of a mouse. The house was decked out in shiny bright things with a herd of light-reindeer, in the yard they did graze.

Santa stared long and hard at this seemingly normal house, and yet he couldn't detect the stirring of a mouse. What magic is this, that all could be well? Where are the children he hoped to steal? For his elves were not cheap nor easy to find, it took a special kind of child to become elfish kind.

The MGers, they waited, staring fixed at the wall, waiting for Santa to finally call. "Here he comes," said the newb and the others all shushed, and pulled the child back before they were crushed. Santa crashed through the wall, his arms held askew as he reached for the special MGian newb. MGers were special, MGers were rare, MGers were exactly the children to ensnare. They made perfect elves, these children wouldn't grow up, the perfect slaves for the Christmas monarch.

Up leapt the children, the nets raised up high and the guns trained carefully, aimed straight at Santa's eye. "Freeze, Santa-scum, we have you surrounded, you shan't escape, not from I, not from none!" Santa gave a mighty yell and his llamas they charged, headed straight for the MGer, the lookout they barged.

Then stood an MGer, known for their true heart, and shouted thus at the charging llamas intent on their dart. "Stop corrupt llamii, we know you aren't bad, this Santa has enslaved you, it makes me so sad!" And the llamii, they halted and paused in their dash, These people speak true, we're sick of our role, in the capture and enslavement of innocent young souls.

Now the MGer did choke and scoff at that notion, these children weren't innocent, had they not seen them in motion? The guns still pointed at Santa Claus's face and one brave MGer was closing the space. He prodded the old man with a stick at his back and stole from limp hands Santa Claus's sack. The toys had been captured along with Santa Claus, too, and now it was time that the llamas were shooed.

"Flee, our sweet darlings, flee across the land, but never forget this Christmas stand!"

And with that the MGers used magic of their own, and chose several newbs to be lashed to the sleigh, and on into the night the MGers they flew, praising their might with which Santa Claus they did slew. So never forget, young boys and girls, that MGers are out there watching your every move, they have the power of Santa and a heap of toys, so be bad or good, whichever they choose.