Here is a Christmas story, for some reason I am in a Christmassy mood. As usual it is entirely fictional from my head, and any similarities are unintentional. Oh and there's quite a lot of naughty swearies. You have been warned. Oh and Ronan, thanks for voting me for next weeks poem, but unfortunately I have already been 'it' and I only know one poem. Feel free to choose another more worthy person. Sad Little Christmas Pies =================== Background: Everyone knows that in order to be a proper pop star you have to have your own hall. Our Stuart has his little church hall and Stephen Pastel has a Masonic hall (lodge 710 glasgow north) Story: One frosty Morning in December our Stuart was doing a bit of sweeping up round his hall. "Ow , how I wove Chwistmas, I dwo I dwo I dwo and I wove happy dweams and pwesents and santa clwaus", he sang to himself. "And this Chwistmas will be extwa extwa special, cause on Chwistmas eve evewy young cawol singer in Glasgow will come to my hall for mince pwie. Hooway!!!". Stephen Pastel happened to be walking by and he overheard the excitement. He ran in the hall and pinned our Stuart up right up against the pwaise the lord sign. "Aye, that'll be fuckin right. Everyone's comin to ma lodge, ye daft wee cunt. And I'm gonna charge them a pound a pie. I'll make a fuckin fortune. Am I gonna have to pummel yer heed again? ya wee jobby". "No no Sweven, evwyone pwomised they'd come here after the wovely swinging about the little baby jesus for fwee pies for eveewyone - #away in a wanger no cwip for a beeeeeeed the little lword jeeesu#..ow". Stephen Pastel proceeded to punch our Stuart till he cried. As he left he threatened "you'd better tell them there all comin to ma lodge or else I'll fuckin have you and burn yer hall down, ya useless wee SHITE". Stuart was understandably upset. He knew that if all the carol singers went to Stephen Pastels lodge they'd have a miserable time. Since they were boys Stephen had bullied Stuart, and would definetely burn down the church hall if he didn't get his way. "I have to stwop him", little Stuart decided. "I need a pwan". December the 24th arrived. Stephen turned up at the church hall with a big whip, some petrol and some matches. He stood outside the front door. "ARE YOU THERE? CAN YA HEAR ME YA WEE CUNT? YOU HAVNAE TOLD ANYONE THAT THEY'RE COMIN TO MA LODGE FOR THEIR PIES HAVE YA, YA SELFISH WEE BASTARD. I'M GONNA FUCKIN BURN DOWN YER HALL FOR THAT, YA WEE SHITE." "Oh no youw're not". Stuart jumped down from a twee. "GET HIM, MY WITTLE FWIENDS!". Loads of foxes and sparrows ran out from inside the church hall and proceeded to eat Stephen Pastel. He tried to kung fu them off, but there were just to many. In a matter of minutes, there was nothing but bones which melted into the ground till he was dead. "Thwank you swo swo much, my wittle buddies. Now evewyone can come here for there pwies. Oh I wove chwistmas I dwo I dwo I dwo. And I wove wittle foxes and wittle spawwos and the wittle baby jesus." That night all the carol singers went to the Church hall and ate pies. And they were good. THE END +----------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list please mail "sinister@majordomo.net". To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to "majordomo@majordomo.net". For list archives and searching, list rules, FAQ, poor jokes etc, see http://www.majordomo.net/sinister +---+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" +---+ +-+ "the cardie wearing biscuit nibbling belle & sebastian list" +-+ +----------------------------------------------------------------------+