[Hope you enjoy this one, wasn't easy]
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The vulnerabilities were left on the system with care,
In hopes no metasploit script would soon be there.
The admins were nestled all snug in their bed,
While visions of security patches danced in their heads.
With project manager in her ‘kerchief’, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains to play with ettercap.
When out on the network, there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter.
Away to the console I flew like a flash,
Tore open the screen and threw up bash.
The logs on the breast of the new-fallen server
Gave a luster of panic on the new hired manager.
When, what to my wondering eyes should behold,
But a miniature script and eight services controlled.
With a little old script, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it was an ol’ HDM trick.
More slick than snakes his courses they came,
And he exploited, and rooted, and called them by name!
“Down CUPS! Down Apache, now Samba and Dixie!
On, Muts! On, Bolexx! on, on Dookie and HD!
To the top of the tree! To the edge of the firewall!
Now compile away! Compile away! Using dash wall.”
As fast typists that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, they do not cry.
So up to the firewall the courses they flew,
With a bag full of root-kits, and with Mitnick too…
And then, in a twinkling, I stared at the rack.
The prancing and pwning of each little hack.
As I ran through the office, cursing around,
Down came the server, which was PCI sound.
As it fell to the ground, from RAM to wire,
And its casing had tarnished this I did not desire.
A bundle of overflows thrown on the stack,
The server looked like a peddler, with a hump on its back.
With hard drives dwindling! Its lights not so merry!
Its IO count rising, Its CPU red like a cherry!
Its droll little services all dropping in a row,
The last remnants of the server, stalked by a crow.
With power cable held tight in my crasp,
And the smoke it encircled, it looked like an asp.
It had blown condensers I found on the floor,
That I took and laughed, as I threw out the door.
It was busted and broken, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I trashed it, in spite of myself!
With a wink of my eye, and a twist of my head,
The new manager knew she had something to dread
She spoke not a word, but went straight to her desk.
And looked at the firewall purchase, and then was perplexed.
And laying her face inside her cupped hands,
Unable to move, unable to stand!
As I sprang from the server room, gave the team a whistle,
Away we all went, all flew like down of a thistle.
As we exclaimed while we left, ‘ere we drove out of sight,
“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!”