‘Twas the night before the big race, when all thro’ the house,
All your roommates were sleeping, not a noise from a mouse;

Your race clothes were placed on the dresser with care,
In hopes that in the morning it’d be easier there;

There you were nestled all snug in your bed,
While visions of the finish line danc’d in your head,

All muscles were rested, you’re ready to nap,
Had just settled your race jitters with a refreshing night cap-

When out of nowhere a BUMP IN THE NIGHT,
You sprang awake to see if everything was alright.

Ran to the window, something flew by in a flash,
Tore open the curtains, in a mad dash.

Lit up your cellphone to cast off a glow,
Which shed enough light on the objects below;

When, “What the f*$&?!” to your wondering eyes should appear,
But CEO Carl the Flamingo’s flock flying near,

Dropping off packages, so lively and quick,
You felt in a moment your eyes were playing a trick.

The flock more drunker than eagles they came,
Carl squawked, and cooed, and dropped goodrs by name:

“Drop Falkor’s! Drop Krakens! Drop Vincent’s, and Bosley’s,
Now Ginger’s! Now Nessy’s! Now Phoenix, now Donkeys!”

Dropped onto the your porch and mailbox on the wall,
You broke out in dash tried to collect them all!

But, as you jolted to the porch in a hurry,
You startled the flamingos and off they did scurry;

So up to the roof the flamingos flew,
With their Piña Coladas- and your goodr swag too:

Within the moment, they all settled their beaks
The boozed-up flamingos waited for Carl to speak.

Just as you looked up, to try to hear from the ground,
Down flew Carl the Flamingo with a bound.

His feathers all fluffed, from his head to toe pink
As he handed you a package that came with a drink;

Then he spoke not a word and took off in flight
He rose up with the flock into unseen height.

You stared at your package tied up in a bow
You opened the box, oh, how could he know?

Pristine goodrs with white frames and gold lenses
Beyond excited, they tickled all your senses.

The perfect choice for the next day’s race
No slip, no bounce, they fit perfectly on your face!

You looked to the sky to give Carl a squawk
But you no longer saw him not even the flock.

Just as you turned to go back in the door
With your goodrs in hand, loving your score —

You heard Carl Squawk, as he flew out of sight,
“goodrs for all who hear a Bump in the Night!”