Twas the night of White Elephant, held in room three-eleven
The Art Society convened at half before seven.
The best gifts were so bad that it was a relief,
when somebody else would act as a thief.
There were Twizzlers and robots and socks and some cocoa,
but whoever wrapped potatoes is clearly quite loco.
With the gifts all exchanged and the treat plates licked clean,
they all settled in and watched Bob Ross paint a scene.
This event was the first but it shan’t be the last,
“Will it happen next year?,” I’m glad you have asked.
It was all so much fun that it’s now our mission
to take this event and make it tradition.