Trash Christmas

Mission Summary

Every pilot in Allston liked Trashmas a lot,
But the rats, who lived under the dumpsters, did not!
The rats hated Trashmas, the whole rancid season,
Now, please don’t ask why, no one quite knows the reason.
It could be their whiskers were sticky with beer,
It could be, perhaps, a lack of good cheer.

But I think that the most likely reason of all,
May have been that the rats just wanted it all!
So on this Trashmas Eve, they hatched a sly scheme -
To hide all the trash, and undermine the mission theme.

Now, outside Fort Antwerp, at the edge of deep space,
Brave pilots were waiting at the launchpad base.
But their flight was delayed for a drop out of warp,
That required a return trip back into the fort.

When finally ready, the pilots assembled
Mission Leader Bane Thunderwolf gave the usual preamble.
"Our objectives are simple," Bane said with a grin,
"First, find all the treasures—metal, plastic, or tin.
Second, count all the U-hauls we see while in flight,
And stop for some snax early on in the night.
And lastly,” spoke Bane, in a tone of retort,
No trash can be added to what’s in the fort!”

So off they went, lasers all a-flash,
To dig up some good ol' Allston trash.
They stopped at a dumpster, all piled up with steel,
But what did they find? Nothing ideal.
A mountain of metal, twisted and bent,
Not a single nice chair, or a sofa for rent.
But the pilots were cheered by kids all around,
By students and townies with joy so profound.

Navigator Pastry Queen steered the fleet to port,
For brief shore leave and refueling support.
“Hey, where’s all the loot?” pilots wondered with pity,
“Has gentrification finally come for rock city?
Or is DPW overzealously keen
To clear all the streets of the loot left to glean?”

After consuming food molecules, pilots struck out once more,
Towards Comm Ave, surely they would find better scores!
A pile of rubble tempted the eye,
Much digging and scavenging in this curbside pigsty.
"There’s something here, a janky cat tree!
And a five-gallon jug, and some old groceries!”

The rats, from their hiding spots, watched with a scowl,
As the pilots kept digging, and stacking their haul.

Then off to a park for a much-needed rest,
Another mechanical put flat-bag to the test.
Pilots tossed a frisbee, the stars shining bright,
But a busybody appeared with a flashlight!
Dr Claw engaged in some diplomacy,
Then the fleet hastily readied to get on their way.

They zoomed down the path to a hidden clearing,
Where they hoped no one would hear them cheering.
A new pilot knighted with a chef’s shiny cleaver,
Three cheers for Happenstance, at the helm of DPX Bieber Fever!

The fleet headed back, their hearts overflowing,
Their treasures in tow, their faces all glowing.
On the landing pad, it was time for pilot show and tell
Of the curbside bounty they had gathered so well.
And what happened next? Well, in Allston they say,
That the rats’ tiny hearts grew three sizes that day!
They squeaked and they scurried away out of sight,
"Happy Allston Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"



Show and tell trash scores:

-Sunglasses with a missing lens
-I love NY umbrella
-Fragile handle with Care stickers
-Industrial cables
-pair of 5 pound weights
-Cans of foods!

Final count 51 Uhauls