'Twas the night on Aquila, and all through the zone,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a drone.
The neon was glowing in Cyrilopolis bright,
In hopes that a hero would hatch in the night.
The citizens rested, quite snug in their beds,
While visions of crypto danced in their heads.
And Plank in his headset, and I with my map,
Had just settled down for a long winter’s nap.
When up in the clouds there arose such a clatter,
The Stork gave a squawk to see what was the matter!
He flew through the sky with a delivery to make,
With an egg in his beak, for goodness sake.
The moon on the breast of the jungle below,
Gave a luster of midday to the lava’s hot glow.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a massive storm cloud, sparking terror and fear!
With a ZAP and a KAPOW, so lively and quick,
The lightning hit hard—it was no parlor trick!
More rapid than eagles the gigaskwaks came,
And they sizzled and fried him (it’s really a shame):
"Now, Voltage! Now, Chaos! Now, Spark and Surprise!
On, Thunder! On, DNA! Watch the stats rise!
To the top of the beak! To the tip of the wing!
Now shock away! Shock away! Shock the poor thing!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
The Stork lost his grip in the dark, looming sky.
So down to the planet the egg, it did fall,
With a plunge and a tumble, no parachute at all.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard down below,
A smash in the Forge where the ancient fires glow.
I drew in my head, and was turning around,
When out of the lava, a bird gave a bound!
He was dressed all in feathers, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
But a bright red necktie was tied round his neck,
He looked like a boss, not a nervous wreck!
His eyes—how they twinkled! His dimples, how merry!
His beak was quite sharp, his legs like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up in a grin,
Ready for the chaotic life to begin.
The stump of a wing he held tight in the air,
He had "Disguise Flutter" and style to spare.
He had a broad face and a round little belly,
That shook when he cooped, like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old bird,
"The Savior of Aquila" (or so I have heard).
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,
He transformed to a Rockstar with barely a jerk!
Then turned to a Warrior, then back to a Spy,
And giving a nod, he shot into the sky!
He sprang from the Forge, to his team gave a coo,
"I’m ready for action! And you should be too!"
But I heard him exclaim, as he flew out of sight,
"I’M HERE TO SUCK-SEED! AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT!"