'Twas Frostivus Eve, and all 'cross the map, The neutrals were quiet, their camps left unstacked. We'd gorged on a feast of bluehorn and spiced creep, And had just settled in for a peaceful night's sleep. When up on the roof, with a house-shaking thud A creature had landed, and sniffed for our blood. A sword could be heard being dragged 'cross the shingles; Then the chimney exploded, and in came King Kringle.