We have received this report in from the North Pole, where SIW's roving security correspondent indicates that there may be a new type of thief on the prowl for poorly secured homes and businesses:
Twas the Alarm Before Christmas
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a sensor was detecting anything, not even a mouse;
The PIRs were mounted in the corners with care,
In hopes they could catch a burglar who tried to come there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
Knowing their CO monitors would keep the gas out of their heads;
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just programmed the keypad and settled down for a long winter's nap,
But in the midst of my slumber there arose such a clatter,
Decibels and strobes alerted me something was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
I disconnected the window positioner and threw up the sash.
My motion-activated floodlights shone on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Giving lustre of mid-day to the secured objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a getaway sleigh, and eight henchmen reindeer,
With a little old driver, dressed head-to-toe in black outfit,
I knew in a moment it must be the cat burglar St. Kit.
More rapid than infrared his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Smasher! now, Grabber! now, Pawned and Stolen!
On, Thiever! on Ransack! on, Snatcher and Hidden!
To the top of the porch! to the end of the hall!
Now grab away! Snatch away! Steal away all!"
As purse snatchers that before the town police fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, these henchmen mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top these brazen thieves flew,
With the getaway sleigh full of loot, and St. Kit too.
And then I heard them, sneaking around on my roof
The plotting and planning of each little hoof.
I was waiting for the monitoring station to call 'round,
But down the chimney St. Kit came with a bound.
He was dressed all in black spandex, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of stash bags he had flung on his back,
And he grinned as he thought about filling each sack.
His eyes -- how they slithered! his nimble legs so scary!
His hands snipped my phone cord, and he gave me a look with a tarry!
He was dark and mischievious, a right thorny old elf,
And I shuddered when I saw him, in spite of myself;
With a glint in his eye and a twist of his head,
He gave me to know I had everything to dread;
He spoke not a word, just went straight to his work,
And stole gifts and stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
He kicked out the backdoor to the laundry, even stealing some clothes;
He sprang to the getaway sleigh, to the reindeer henchmen he gave whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
And I heard him exclaim, before he drove out of ear,
"Call your dealer for a better alarm system, or I'll be back next year."
© 2005-2007 SecurityInfoWatch.com and with thanks extended to "Twas the Night Before Christmas" author Clement Clarke Moore.
