Monday, 29 November 2010

Natchickity Story

'We are putting on a proper Nativity this Christmas,' announces Mrs Miggins. 'Mrs Slocombe says her crotch still hasn't recovered from last year's Winter Extravaganza and she'd prefer to do something far less strenuous this year.'

She is in the kitchen of the Manor, sifting through the rustic basket that contains my selection of dodgy but much loved tea towels. 'Have you got anything in stripes?' she continues.

'No,' I say. 'As you can see, my eclectic collection extends to plain and spotty, and sometimes to novelty but not to stripey.'

'Oh,' says Miggins. 'Er, will you be in later today? Only I'm expecting a delivery that needs signing for.'
'Which is?' I say.
'A camel,' says Miggins. 'Possibly three.'
'I'm not taking delivery of three camels for you,' I say. 'Absolutely not, no way, no how, never.'
'But we can't do a Nativity without camels,' says Mrs M. 'What will the Wise Men sit upon?'
'How about chairs?' I say, thinking there would be a lot less mess to clear up if three leather high backs were installed on set rather than three automatic poop machines.
'We'll discuss camels later,' says Miggins.
'Anyway, why can't you sign for your own camels?' I say.
'I have auditions,' says Miggins. 'Mary and Joseph, Angel Gabriel, Angel Delight and Shepherd's Pie.'
'Shepherd's Pie and Angel Delight?' I say.
'Luncheon with Tango Pete,' says Miggins. 'He's schmoozing me for a role in the Nativity. First King as long as he can wear his gold lamee pants.'
'Mrs Pumphrey won't like it,' I say.
'Oh, she won't mind,' says Mrs Miggins. 'She's way too busy sewing sequins on her Star of Bethlehen costume.'
'And what of Mrs Slocombe?' I say. 'Which role is she to play?'
'Scrooge,' says Mrs Miggins.
'Scrooge isn't in the Nativity,' I say. 'At least not in the version I know.'
'There's your problem,' says Mrs Miggins. 'This is a different version of the Nativity. A cutting edge, hot new take on an old story. With a twist of lemon.'

'I can't wait,' I say.
'I bet you can't,' says Miggins.

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