Santa And Mo
Published on Tuesday 30 September 2003
Tommorrow's news today:
Santa step this way, we have something to announce. We've been considering your position for some time, Mr Claus, but I'm afraid we've had to rule in favour of France and Germany again, because here at the EU we hate you. Mr Claus, you have had an unfair monopoly on Christmas for some time now, and it's about time we handed the job to someone crap at it.
Santa heads back to his home in Birmingham, down hearted, but reassured that he still had his trucking business to rely on. Luckily his trucks all ran on magic cornflakes which aren't yet taxed. Something was bothering him though. Who was the mysterious applicant who had stolen his job? As he sat out on his rooftop watching the stars and contemplating his position, the sounds of trucks exploding drifted by on the wind.
"Oh no!! My truckth have all exthploded!" shouted Santa, understandably pissed off.
He ran to his garage and found his exploded trucks.
"I'm sorry Santa! I'm sorry!" started an elfish mouth attached to a little head with elfish ears, which was in turn attached to the rest of an elf.
"I filled them with rice chrispies and they all exploded," he finished, "Eruuuuuuh...", he added.
"RICETH CHRITHPIES! You th**k-wit! Only the thunshine breakfast will do!"
"But a massive rabbit stole all the cornflakes!"
"Oh no! Not my golden flaketh of corn, I really really need them in order to keep my buthiness running in the face of unfair competition throm France and Germany. Which way did the rabbit go?"
"Towards London."
"Hmmmm... I've got it! It mutht have been Mo Molum, in league with the Eathter Bunny. Mo Molum workth in London you thee. Quick, let'th get to London before it's too late. Thaddle up Pranther, Danther, Dather and Rudolf."
"Oh yeah, Prancer Dancer and Dasher were all maimed in the explosion. And Rudolf blew his face off trying to eat a gas cannister yesterday. We only have two raindeer left."
"Which oneths?"
"Total Bitch and Utter Bastard. You named them yourself if you remember."
Half an hour later Santa and the Elf were standing in a rooftop in Swansea, while their raindeer fought to the death, locked in a bitter struggle over a navigational error.
"Ah ha! There's the jolly trucker!" screamed the Easter Bunny from attop a bloated heiffer hovering above the chimney stacks.
"More like b***ard!" laughed Mo Molum, (which was probably very funny if you were there) throwing a B&Q flatpack wardrobe at Santa. "You fat f***er, you fat...etc," the chant went on.
The first wardrobe hit the elf, but luckilly so many parts were missing that it hardly weighed anything.
As wardrobe after wardrobe narrowly missed Santa, he uttered a spell to bring forth an angel choir, knowing that the sound of heavenly music would instantly kill Molum. Gabriel appeared,
"I can't see what use it will be, but here is your heavenly thong. Use it wisely." Gabriel dissappeared.
Then he realised something. "How come that cow ith flying?" he said.
"We fed it your magic cornflakes." (evil laugh. Followed by a splurge as the cow turned inside out.)
So that's how it came to pass that Mo Molum was crushed to death under half a tonne of inside-out beef.
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13:59 30/09/03
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