Christmas Attempted: Wrapping Paper

December 16th...

Okay, so I fucked that up. I was meant to start this on the 15th, so that I had ten days in which to try and make stuff funny. Jesus had the same problem. Oh well, I suppose nine will do. It took Lucifer nine days to fall.

Okay, I have to stop myself there. My wise and benevolent tutors at Falmouth College have informed me that I should no longer be writing about angels, demons and other religious entities. Apparently, the last fifteen years of my life writing mythological epics have been largely wasted, and it's this bollox right here that will sell.

So, reinvention is the order of the day. I kick the Angel Gabriel in the balls as I wake, and then have a shower with mint-flavoured shower gel - awesome. Smelling like a fox's glacier mint(I didn't mispell that), I saunter into work half an hour late and start refusing to help people.

"You're taking me Christmas shopping!" screams one of the kids.
"Nope." I reply.
"Yes you fucking are!"
"Language! That's a five minute wait!"
"Fuck you!"
"Ten minutes."
"What's your problem?"
"You."
"I'll knock your block off!"
"Go on then."
"Fuck this shit!"
"Merry Christmas."

We drive into Truro, blazing ACDC (anything else is just emo). We then set off across town, the boy walking ahead about fifty metres and turning round to insult me and obssess about his appearance. I have rolled up a ten pound note and am pretending to smoke it.

"What the fuck are you doing that for?"
"Because from a distance, people will think I'm cool."
"You're embarassing me! Stop it!"
"Is anyone looking at me?"
"They might do!"
"And what are they gonna think?"
"That you're a prick!"
"Yeah, for about five seconds, and then they'll forget about it. Nobody remembers a prick on the streets, so stop worrying about how you look."
"I'll fucking tear that ten pound note up!"
"Go for it. I'll still look cool."
"You're a cunt!"
"I just don't give a shit what people think of me. And neither should you."
"Well I do."
"Then you're the cunt my friend."

I love my job.

After the shopping trip he takes out a roll of wrapping paper and heads for the dining room table. I hide in the toilet, sniggering at the sounds of a young man with tourettes trying to wrap a wooden cat.

Whilst in the toilet I am attacked by a semi-aquatic goblin, but I deck the fucker with the sanitary bin.

An hour later, the presents are wrapped and the dining room walls are dripping with phlegm. I cook myself lunch as my co-workers bring in the shopping. I then return to the office to hide from the service users and get hugged by one of the said co-workers. I feel my contact lens enter my brain - hopefully my mental power will focus to a fine and agonising pinnacle.

Half-blind and whole-snuggled, I am taken to one side by my manager and informed that I am being investigated for gross misconduct. A pixie chortles from the filing cabinet. My manager smiles and then hands me the clipboard for the vehicle checks. I traipse out into the cold.

Gross misconduct? They were only cinema tickets for God's sake! Did I really harm anyone by pretending to be autistic and getting a discount? Well, okay, I had to attack my co-worker to make it look authentic, but she didn't mind. I shouldn't be disciplined for my sense of humour.

So, as I sit in the car, asking the computer if there's anything wrong, I start thinking. Maybe it's time I should do my Christmas shopping, before my family charge me with gross misconduct too. After all those wonderful presents I brought them in America, they'll be expecting something good.

The car's computer tells me it needs windscreen washer. I tick the box regardless. Never trust a faulty car.

I put the vehicle in reverse and run down a lurking warlock. Take that, bitch!

Okay, so the big question. Do I go home for Christmas and face the family? Do I invite them up here? Or do I collect a small arsenal of sanitary bins and barricade myself in a toilet somewhere for the rest of the season. What would Jesus do?

I come back into the house, drop-kicking a badger-mage on the way in.