T’was the night before Christmas,
And all through the Cave,
Not a creature was stirring,
There was no one to save.
The stockings were hung,
By the Batwing with care,
In hopes that the Joker,
Soon would be there (to fight).
Robin was nestled,
All snug in his bed,
While visions of villains,
Danced in his head.
Alfred in his kerchief,
And I in my cap,
Had just laid down our gadgets,
For a long winter’s nap.
When out on the lawn,
There arose such a clatter,
I zipped to Wayne Manor,
To see what was the matter.
I pondered the noise,
As I sipped on a mocha.
I knew in a moment,
It must be The Joker!
A clown-shaped balloon,
Floated over the pool,
It was obvious, this
Was the work of the fool!
A white face, peered out,
Topped by a green mane,
And he cackled and shouted,
And called them by name:
“Now Scarecrow! Now Penguin!
Now, Mr. Freeze!
On, Catwoman! On, Riddler!
Poison Ivy and Bane!
To the top of the porch!
To the top of the wall!
Be dastardly! Dastardly!
Dastardly all!”
And then, in an instant,
I heard up on high,
The ticking and tocking,
Of a bomb in the sky.
“Oh, Joker,” I sighed.
“Can’t you be of good cheer,
And stop with the bomb threats,
Just one night per year?”
He chuckled and said,
“Oh come now, Dear Batsy!
You must know by now
That I’m no Christmas patsy!”
So I strapped on my jet-pack
And started to fly,
Like the bats who at sunset
take to the sky.
I zipped to the balloon,
And defused the bomb.
Then I gathered the villains
With style and aplomb.
Though the bad guys did struggle,
They did not match my might,
And I dropped them at Arkham,
With barely a fight.
I went back to the Bat Cave,
And said, as I turned out the light,
“Merry Christmas to all,
And to all a Bat night!”
(I’m cutting it to the wire, but I just knocked off #18 on my list of goals for the year: Make a Santa outfit for Wyatt’s Imaginext Batman.)
