Terrible Book Club

T'was the week before Christmas and all through the house, could be heard Paris and Chris shrieking, and not from a mouse. The shrimp were speared on the cone with care,  In hopes that Terriblo would soon be there.   The roommates were nestled all snug in their beds; While visions from Lovecraft danced in their heads;   And Paris in her hoodie, and Chris in his too, Continued to slice and spear as the Shrimp Tree grew.   When out in the kitchen there arose such a clatter, The roommates sprang from their beds to see what was the matter.   Away to the kitchen they flew like a flash, Tore open their doors and heard a loud crash.   The fluorescent light casting shadows o'er all, Masking the tears of laughter as they fall,   When what to their horrified eyes did slam, But a shrimp tree and a vegetable lamb,   With two friends so lost in their crafts, They knew in a moment they must have gone daft,   More mad than a hatter as they wondered who to blame, And they whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:   "