Friday, 27 December 2024

A Christmas Tale: An Alternative Nativity Story


Let Us Adore Him

In those days, Caesar (Ipod Mugumbo) declared that a world census (Tipton and Dudley North) should be taken. And lo everyone should report to their ancestral home for registration. 

So Papa Flaxen the Elder went up to the 'city' of Stewpony. He went there with the incipient, Mrs. Saxon, who was greatly gravid with child. She had been impregnated by the itinerant Lugless Dugless after an ill-fated liaison in a Mazda 3. No guest rooms were available, so the child was born on the midden pit and wrapped in a swaddling shopping bag. Three filthy, thieving gypo bastards arrived from the East boroughs of Birmingham following a drone which hovered over the midden pit. When they arrived in Tipton they inquired where lieth the new king of the Tiptonites. The incumbent king, Herod the Addled, was sorely miffed and said unto the gypos. "Go find this child and report back so I can remove his bonce with my double-headed Danish war axe, 'Twat Cruncher', er I mean so I can adore him with sweetmeats and sundries akimbo including an iPhone 16 Promax". 

The three wise gypos continued their quest and found the baby Flaxen atop the Stewpony midden pit. And there they opened their treasures and gave the child a fake gold ring, a gallon of brut aftershave and a ferret called, Shagger. After the gypos left, it was noted that various items had gone a missing, including Mrs Saxon's iPhone (insert the latest iteration).

Suddenly a drunk appeared and blurted: "Yow must bugger orf to Coventry else the king will separate young Flaxen's noddle from his already well-developed shoulders". And so they fled to the east, but not before stopping off at 'Mr Khan's Kebab Shoppe and Home for Stray Tasty Animals.' There, they enjoyed a sumptuous repast of indeterminate meat.  

When the king learned he had been duped, he was mightily pissed and sent forth a gang of 'nere do wells' on a quest to put to the sword all young Tiptonites under two.

As fulfilled by the prophet, 'Eric the Inebriate', saying':

A raucous shout was heard in Merry Hill,

Wailing, bawling and grand tribulation,

Sharan bawling for her 12 kids,

No more child benefits.


And lo it came to pass wind which blew Herod down a disused mine shaft. As Herod was no more, our intrepid trio decided to return to Tipton, unabated and unsullied- excepting the new-to-be, Mrs Saxon. Virgin, my arse! More like verging on the ridiculous. Anyway, as Tipton was a shit place, they decided on a council house in Smethwick- a slightly less shit place.

Here Endeth The Tale  






2 comments: