Twas the DOOM Before Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas, in the building called Baxter
Not a creature was stirring, we were all quite relaxed here.
The security system was keyed in with care,
In hopes that our enemies could not reach us there.
Ben and Johnny were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of supervillians danced in their heads,
Sue in her nightgown, I shed my thinking cap,
So I could settle my brain for a long winter's nap...

When outside the building came a booming like thunder,
I sprang from the bed to see what attack we were under.
Away to the window, I sped like Northstar,
Tore open the shutters to see the Earth below, far!
The moon was much closer, with it's great looming face,
Someone had launched our whole building right into space!
When, what by my horrified eyes should be seen,
But a rocket-ship sleigh painted silver and green,
With the most frightening driver, the vision of gloom,
I knew in a moment that it was Santa Doom!

More rapid than Quicksilver his curses they came,
And he bristled, and shouted, and called us bad names:
"You simpletons! You dunders! You pathetic sad fools!
Bow down before me! Santa Doom rules!
To the heart of the sun! This is your final fall!
Now die away! die away! die away all!"

Then the Human Torch entered, to my side he did fly,
And he cried when he saw we'd been launched to the sky.
Then came Benny Grimm, the rocky old Thing,
Waking the Invisible Woman (who's wearing my ring).
When something happened that made our spirits all fall
The rocket sleigh came crashing in right through our wall!
As I stretched out my head, I could feel my heart pound,
From the rocket sleigh Santa Doom came with a bound.

He was dressed all in armor, from his feet to his pate,
His iron mask locked in an expression of hate.
A dark green flowing cloak hung down from his back,
And he looked like a madman waiting there to attack.
His eyes -- how they twinkled -- his visage - how scary!
Every inch of his person would make any foe wary!
His strange gaping mouth was like bars on a cage,
An outer representation of his heart filled with rage.

Our oxygen poured out through the building's great breech,
Masked Santa Doom was not hindered in breath nor in speech.
Johnny couldn't flame on, the poor little fellow,
And we shook (as Doom laughed) like a plate full of Jello.
The rest couldn't breathe, not my friend nor my bride
And I begged for my life then, in spite of my pride.
The hate of his eyes and a shake of his head,
Soon gave me to know that we'd all soon be dead.
He spoke many words, of how his great plan did work,
And how he's proved he was smartest of all (what a jerk).
Then he showed us his finger, the one not polite,
And giving a nod, left his triumphant site.

He fired up his sleigh, how the engines did whistle,
Then away he shot off with the speed of a missile.
But I heard him exclaim, nearing my final breath,
"Happy Christmas to all, and slow painful death!"