A Quick Flash presentation from Frankie Lassut
QF15
A special little festive intro from a community that likes to get in the spirit of Christmas and really rave it up.
I just had a thought. I wondered what ‘species’ of human it would be best to be at Christmas. My inner self answered me with another thought and a series of mental pictures. The best kind of person to be at Crimbo is ... and it’s very logical ... an Amish.
There is no present buying, no fighting in shops, no last minute panic buying i.e. all the usual crap. All the Amish do is relax all year, build barns and stuff and at night when Amish mother is baking Amish cakes or sitting with other Amish mothers, knitting while Amish father goes to the pub on the Amish horse and cart to talk the latest trending Amish beard styles with his Amish mates and how the end of the world is coming on? Between events in their lifestyles, they whittle wooden spinning tops to give to each other at Christmas. It’s almost like the Duck Dynasty crowd who whittle duck calls. It also says on my DVD that they whittled the calls from which they made their fortune, from pieces of wood they found in the swamps. They must be Christians too because God would have had to have had a hand in that one in order (many orders) to make millions.
Well, Amish mother and Amish son have Amish Christmas kits, which consist of penknives to make their spinning tops, while father has a large, modern computerised lathe in the barn to do his. Amish daughter? She’s locked in the cellar reading the Bible and practicing her floor scrubbing techniques between ‘mend and tend and stitch’ lessons from mother so she can best serve her husband who will no doubt be at barn builds most of the time fiddling about on the roof. (Just as a matter of interest, did you know that the most popular Christian name for an Amish boy, is Hamish).
Did you also know that Bear Grylls uses an Amish spinning top to light fires. All he does is makes it spin really fast on his block of wood and apply a little pressure from his finger end, and hey presto, before he knows it he has a blazing inferno.
In this same moment, away from this perpetual ‘past time’... in England, Kevin is just waking up ...It was a lovely Saturday morning. Kevin returned to consciousness and opened his eyes. He sat up in bed, stretched his arms ‘mmmmmmmm' and yawned one hell of a yaaaawn. The Sun shone brightly in the cloudless sky, backlighting the thin Paisley curtains, casting their famous pattern on the yellow walls. Kevin was 35, he was 5' 4'' tall, had ginger hair, freckles, acne and halitosis and worked as a sweeper up and toilet cleaner in a custard factory (he had a very gooey brush head). He didn't have a girlfriend. Never mind though! He was full of the joyyyssss of life! That was funny, all his mates were handsome and married and they were all miserable and wanted to be ‘him’ (their partners felt the same apparently).
He bounded from his bed and took a shower, making sure to wash behind his ears with the large block of carbolic soap like his mother had taught him “always wash behind your ears or you’ll never get a nice young lady.” He just loved the scent of carbolic soap and couldn’t understand why they didn’t make an under-arm spray with the same aroma ... never mind common Ylang Ylang. He then got dressed. He was going shopping today! Over to the dresser he jigged cowboy like to his hummed Country and Western line dancing music. He opened the top drawer and what a sight beheld him. His credit card was in a tender embrace with the superstore reward card, it was a very sweet sight. It paused and looked up in annoyance at the intrusion.
“Oi! Do you mind!”
Said the card with just a ‘hint' of irritation.
“I'm a little busy right now as you can well see! Now please shut the drawer and afford us a little privacy. Thank you.”
“Busy my foot! You're coming with me!” Replied Kevin, “It’s Christmas, and I’m buying myself my major present to myself. I'm having a ninety inch curved screen TV with holographic microboogie surround sound and a blu-ray player with lots of great lights and technical readouts on it and you're going to help me to purchase it; it will help get me a woman just like the Beamer will when I can afford one (Kevin believed that prestige was the name of the game). I also need some liquid assets and I can't find my wallet, so I'll have to get some cash back too ... come on my little plastic friend! Let's be off!
Ho ho hoooo!”
“Excuse me just a second darling.” Said the befuddled credit card to the reward card.
He walked to the far corner of the drawer. Laying there, staring at the bottom of the top of the unit and looking a little puzzled, was a ‘99p Shop' diary.
“Excuse me diary, could you please clarify something for the mutual benefit of Kevin and myself. Now, I'm sure it's August, please confirm my suspicion.”
“Oooooh well hmmm?” said the diary who immediately stood up and began to public speak with passion.
“Twenty days hath Septober! April May and Julember?! All the rest have more I think, except for February alone, which has 39 days clear. Hmmmm! Yes!
It certainly feels like August, the Sun I assume is shining extremely Summerlerlyleeloolah judging by the heat and light streaming through the Paisleys, so you're possibly correct, although that month didn't really print too well; so I'll play safe and wholeheartedly agree with your suspicion ... it's August! ... I hope?”
“Thank you ‘99p Shop' diary, your help is much appreciated. There you are Kevin, it's August. Therefore, I'm sorry, but, it isn't Christmas just yet, so kindly leave us alone. Now, please shut the drawer, there's a good chap. Thank you once more.”
With this, he went to re-join his reward card.
Kevin retorted ...
“Ex c yuuuuuse me! So how come then, I was downtown yesterday, aaannnnd ... all the shops have got the decorations up! Hmmm? Christmas music is playing everywhere, Slade were full blast in the City Centre, and Father Christmas and his Gnomes were giving wooden spinning top presents to kids in one port of call (the Amish have gone public!). So come on! Join in the spirit of the season of goodwill ... Oooooo! Jingle bells Jingle bells jingle all the way, I'm a buyiiiing, a new, snazzy TV, and you're the way I'll pay! Oooo” ... sang Kevin.
With this, the poor old credit card fearing the effect of Kevin’s socially conditioned mind, panicked, leapt from the false security of the drawer, narrowly missing an attempted grab, and made off, leaving the bedroom with a swissssh!
“Isn't Christmas before Bonfire Night!?”
Shouted the diary, in a rather confused tone. It was pacing around the drawer rubbing its head.
“Which, according to my page ... you torch old Guy on the 7th October, last month of the year on the 5th! Just post Easterish. Innit?!”
Kevin panicked and gave chase, but the card was pretty quick jumping down the stairs three at a time and managing to switch from left to right with a great balance.
The card reached the bottom of the stairs as Kevin came round the corner, hanging onto the banister for dear life ...
“London Underground!? Waterloo Straight Bendy Circle Line?! No problem !”…
Shouted the diary.
Into the living room zipped the card. Seconds later, hot on the trail, stomped Kevin ... but ... all was still, there was no sign of life?
Mmmmm?
Kevin stood on the orange and brown mat which lay in the middle of the purple carpet. Nothing moved ... the place was as quiet as a morgue at midnight, minus the odd fart. Kevin could hear his own heart beating.
***
Down the side of the armchair, the card sat on a spring next to the wallet and the TV remote control. There was also an unused condom? A screwdriver and a beer mat. They had been playing poker (with permission from the deck as shuffling can give a deck a rash), and had allowed the card to join in while Kevin got fed up, made himself scarce, and left the card in peace.
“Metric conversions!? Two point three kilogram's to the fluid solid ounce?! No problem!” yelled the diary; it sounded a little muffled to those inside the armchair.
After ten minutes or so, the
card bade farewell to his domestic amusement comrades and took a careful glance over the cushion? Coast clear! He climbed down from the chair and managed to get halfway across the room when he heard ...“Airport numbers?! Sorry! No can do! Page missing! Sob!” and with that, the Diary went for some counselling from the Gideon Bible, waiting patiently for a troubled soul (yummy!) in the far corner of the drawer.
Followed by ...“Hah! Got you now!”
Kevin had been sneaking on tiptoe towards him from the back kitchen, eyes wide with excitement wielding ... a city pond fishing net! The card backed up against the wall. It looked right and left, but it was trapped like a draughts counter in that impossible to get out of position; know the one? It then took a drastic move ... “I can't take this anymore! Iiii'm aaaat myyyy limmmiiiit! I'm going to end it aalllll! No more life threats from Darklycard ! ... No more disapproving looks from card readers like it’s MY FAULT!” He moved his little arm behind his back and took hold of his magnetic strip ...
“Goodbye cruel world of red finance!” Yelled the little bendy one, and pulled off the strip. His body shivered and he fell flat on his face (well he would wouldn’t he).
“Ohhhh Nooo!” Screamed Kevin, and dropped the fishing net in shock.
The little cards body twitched once, possibly static, then he was still.
There was a ‘screeeeeeam’ from the direction of the door. Kevin whipped his head round sprinkling dandruff on his collar. The saver card was looking disbelievingly at her dead mate. She ran across the carpet, turned him over, and knelt beside him, taking his right hand in both of hers. A holographic tear of sadness ran down her front as she looked at his dove hologram, still shiny post mortem. Lost and alone now, she slowly, dramatically, averted her gaze to Kevin, who was watching dumbfounded.
“You've killed him !” she screamed “You Muuurrrdereeer!”
She then looked back to his dead body.
Kevin watched in horror as she reached behind herself.
“I'm coming to you darling!” she shouted in a fit of passion ... and pulled off her own magnetic strip. Her body fell face down on top of her lovers.
No twitch this time, must just be credit cards?
“Ooooh nooooo!” Screamed Kevin again, “Five thousand reward points down the swanee!”
With this, he slumped with much dejection into the armchair, knocking the wallet and the TV control off their springs in the process. He got up again and turned on his old TV set. The wallet and remote control, being not that stupid, waited until he slumped again before resuming seats, away from his butt .
“I suppose I'm stuck with you, you 26 inch heap of frigging junk!” he grumbled angrily at the TV. The TV heard him of course, and promptly blew its main circuits.
“Oh great!” sighed Kevin , “What a fantastic Christmas I'm having! Roll on New Year!”
Merry Christmas reader and a Happy New Year!
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