VERBWHORE XMAS STORY 2010! (21 Words)

[Ginyard]

named after the Harrison Ford/Jeff Bridges cop buddie movie, Frowning and Slow Speech. Suddenly, the sound of sleigh bells

[Emma Raducanu]

could be heard upon every rooftop. And every kid in the universe said "wow" in unison, despite them all being asleep.

[Jemble Fred]

up on every roof, a terrifying undead nightmare stood, each slavering homunculus viciously shaking sleighbells and roaring in frustrated wrath. They

leapt to the ground with horrifying intent, and converged on the crowds.

"This is why I cancelled Exmas," yelped Memebridge, "These

[Cerys]

cunts are out for flesh!'

  Faintly, then with increasing volume, came the squamous sound of the festive horrors.  Gobble gobble ... gobble

[Emma Raducanu]

went Santa, now necking so many mince pies, his face was as red as his coat. "These mince pies need more mince"

"But Squire" eeked Grandad Elf, before the back of Santa's hand swiped him off his feet into a sea of melted ice.

[Cerys]

'The turkeys are even now besieging Tits Titsford, intent on exacting their revenge!'

'Let 'em,' scoffed Santa.  'Less work for me.'

[Ginyard]

"And more more moresy food for me" grinned mook, spraying his custard. "Army, LOCK AND LOAD!".

Unsure of who he was actually talking to, we watched him stomp off towards the sound of splenetic poultry mayhem on his own, then we belted off

[Jemble Fred]

to the safety of a nice warm carvery.

Without the pitiless controlling force of their master Bernard, the twisted turkey hordes were finally free to fall on the villagers and stuff them one by one. Mook marshalled his forces.

"Rudi, Cerys, Ginyard

[Ginyard]

Horne, Corden....Watch my back!" barked mook, or his dog, I'm not sure which.

Out scurried 5 rats who promptly stared at his spine

[Emma Raducanu]

Ginyard whispered into the chief rat's ears; explaining that it was a freshly wrapped dvd of This is Spinal Tap not Mook's spinaly back they wanted.

The silly rats, even more confused feasted on Mook's Spaniel's spine, to which Ginyard could only stand and laugh.

[Cerys]

Suddenly his laughter choked off.  He stared at the spaniel.  The rats had gnawed away at the creature's vertebrae - surely it

should be howling in agony.  But no - it stood tall, proud, its tail wagging joyfully.  What should have been a blood-soaked

spinal column was instead a garland of rich, sparkling tinsel.  Ginyard swallowed.  Could it be true, he wondered, that this was

the mythical, magical, mystical, mookical SPANIEL OF CHRISTMASSY GOODNESS?  The dog woofed, snuffling at his toes.  He gave it a pat

[the midnight watch baboon]

, and called him a twat, then offered him busty young hoes.

"I'd prefer biscuit-y, tongue and... foes. Like cats.

"Love 'em!", joked Ginyard

[Jemble Fred]

, and the battle commenced.

With Tutivilus the Tinsel mutt against them, those horrendous turkeys stood no chance. They were twizzled and

[Ginyard]

torn to shreds, dozens, nay hundreds, of headless bastards running around like mothers at a jumble sale. A nearby caveman popped the boot of his Ford Mondeo.

"Quick" said mook slowly, "Chuck the turkey bodies in there".

"Booty full" said the caveman

[Emma Raducanu]

and away they were, off to the factory to package and market the 'Turkey body-scraps', ready to sell to unculinary verbwhores

in time for Christmas. Mook suggested making readymeals, using powdered roast potatoes and rehydrated gravy - rubbing his hands in a "I'll

be rich before I'm 40" way. Soon the procedings were interrupted by the ghost of Bernard Matthew, who told Mook he'd be met by 3 ghosts

[Jemble Fred]

, but not to worry as they were only little ones, and wouldn't cause him too much bother. They then shared a kebab and a kiss and settled down to watch Morecambe & Wise's ghosts perform a sketch about the Xbox Kinect.

_{You won't believe it, but we're just coming up to the word limit that will, as it is, make ApexJazz weep and hurl abuse at me, so this needs tying up V soon!}

[dr_christian_troy]

Meanwhile, my plastic mask had now filled above the nose with the egg-nog I had been drinking through a straw, whilst stuck firmly at the bar. Surviving dwarves soon began to put presents under my coat, and tinsel on my arms

[Ginyard]

and legs, baubles on my baubles and a fairy on my head. Well, not fairy, just Memebridge who sat there chewing one of mook's Pot au feu breakfast bars. Then some bored villagers, undecapitated POW turkeys and rats gathered round with the dwarves. The barman put on some non-descript 80s sleighbell pop and mook tore himself away from the tv to begin beating his fist into a wall as a sub-bass effect. Finally, Santa

[Jemble Fred]

stuck his mittens right down the spaniel's throat, and – Holy Hosannas! – the streets were filled with delicious regurgitated Christmas pudding! I now knew what Mayor Membridge had hired me for – to ensure the Merriest Winter Festival in the whole history of Tits-Titsford! High on the waves of pudding sick I surfed, a shining beacon of jolliness for all to see!

"I love you, Dr Cuddlycock, and your ass especially!" chorused everyone, joining hands in the chilly streets as the midnight chimes ushered

[sirhenry]

in the End of Days.
And together they cried "Crappy presents to all, and to all just Fuck Off!"

[Jemble Fred]

And so we bloody did.

THE END!

_{Thank you all! I'll knit it together and see what Mr Jazz thinks of it all...}