The night

The room is dark and mysterious,

You can only just make out the shape in the frightening black cloud of mystery.

It seems to be tall and round,

It’s coming this way every step it gets closer and the beating heart get sore.

It feels like I have somebody inside me with a vacume attached to my heart sucking in air and reversing it to blow it all out again and then repeating the process, except at the speed of light.

It has finally reached my bedside table and as it slowly and carefully slides it’s finger sneakily up the switch to my bedside lamp.

My heart races with the fear of what I might see.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH IT BURNS!!!!!!!!!!!

It is now blacker than ever and it feels like my eye’s are on fire as they adjust to the new found light.

I take a look around still halve asleep not knowing what to expect from this all but messy room.

There doesn’t seem to be anything but yesterdays clothes and a bit of vodka (straight) hidden away amongst the tip, only able to see a tiny bit of the cap.

I sheepishly switch off the light and hide amongst the warm secure feeling of my sheets.

IT’S BACK and pissed (no really it found the vodka).

That’s it, enough is enough

I leave the comfort of my sheets so I can confront the beast of terror.

There it was, big, fat and ugly like an overgrown teletuby on drugs.

I stand my ground and ask for it back, He refuses to hand over the goods.

I have no other option but to take the fat man down.

I grab the nearest weapon I can find (which happened to be my hat stand) and I take a swing, but fatty ducks and I smash the window (there goes my allowance for the next month).

My parents hear a noise so they come in and turn on the light,

It looks BAD.

I am grounded for a month and I’m not allowed to drink any more coke or have anymore junk food for a month.

THAT’S IT

No fat man’s gonna get between me and MY coke.

THE FAT MAN’S GOING DOWN

I turn of the light and confront it yet again,

Informing him (whilst holding a cricket bat) that he gives back the remaining vodka and leave before it gets violent.

He refuses by shaking his head left then right slowly with a little grin (very evil), so I take another swing (only under then up, below the belt) It ducks again, for a fat guy he sure is fast, I go for another cheap shot (only faster this time) and I accidentally stumble over some more vodka and manage to lure him out with it and tie him up with last weeks clothes and shove my mouldy old gym socks in his mouth (as a gag) and turned on the light to find what appeared to be Santa.

What I couldn’t believe it

I always wondered what the fat man does in his spare time.

Hang on he’s a EEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWW a SHE.

The fat man’s a chick.

A chick with that much fat (that’s gonna haunt me for years to come)

She claimed she really was a he but weight watcher didn’t work out and he kept slowing down his reindeer (not to mention the fact that he couldn’t fit his fat ass down the chimney no more)

So anyway he got on the booze and had a sex change

(That’s wrong in more way then one).

She ended up in a mental hospital because they didn’t believe she was Santa.

Owe well, Shit happens

She promised to replace the grog as Shim got dragged out of my room.

Well that’s a life lesson for me,

Just because the fat man let you down doesn’t mean there won’t be a present under the tree every Christmas!!!!

Just don’t tell your parents that Santa’s in a mental hospital and there will always be something there!!