The Nativity Play

The real world of JC was unusually quiet except for the clack clacking of knitting needles. Annette had not had a good day she had been pushed as far as she could be today, with replying to, not replying, to replying to, not replying, to replying to and was taking out her frustration on her knitting. Still it would be useful when she had finished, the deep red would make lovely curtains for the nativity play.

Miss Rose was busy embellishing her gimp masks with tinsel and self adhesive glitter antlers making sure they were all exactly the same, she didn’t want them arguing over who had the most tinsel.

Sgt Salt was clearing his throat getting ready to make his announcement to the real world of JC. Pushing the green button, he began his speech.

“Ladies and Gentleman” the Irish lilt wafted around the real world of JC like smooth chocolate, Eve fainted and moonstruck gyrated into her river dance routine. “Unless there is peace, the powers that be have agreed that there will be no nativity play.”

What a joke peed a little bit in his pants, this was the best news he had heard all year, he hated the real world of JC having fun and he still hadn’t managed to get the Blonde Bolton Bomber to believe he could make all her dreams come true if only she would consider marrying him. What a joke didn’t know what else to do, he had told her he was a helicopter pilot, a sea and rescue pilot and had chatted to the Sultan of Brunei on his new mobile phone network that he had invented, but Bolton Bomber was having none of it, she turned him down at every opportunity. What a joke didn’t like being rejected and the Bolton Bomber had been the only one to reject him. The others disappeared off the face of the real world of JC the minute he sent them his picture, wearing the t-shirt from a double glazing company that he worked for when he was 56, back in 1981. Having taken the rejection badly he had made it his goal to “get her”.

Sgt Salt carried on “Now I suggest you all play nicely and let the spirit of Christmas take over the real world of JC and Angel turned to dust please stop pm’ing me you know it is not me who decides who the Virgin Mary is.”

Tipsy Andy only heard one word “spirit” and decided to do as he was told and topped up his glass.

Angel turned to dust sobbed into her bowl of coco pops, she didn’t want to be the donkey again, she wanted to be with child and give birth she had been practising her panting exercises all year whilst shopping round Tesco’s until last week when they finally barred her from every Tesco store in the country.

WordstoomanytoreadWorth, was torn he thought he would make a good Joseph, wouldn’t take much work and he could put an end to any rumours about him not being able to do the deed if he had a pregnant wife, but the part of being a Wiseman was difficult for him to resist.

Thin no dice no ice knew which part he wanted. The only one who got any action in that play was God as far as he was concerned so he had rigged up a pulley with the help of his apprentice and practised rising above his stable, flapping his arms and shouting out to the world “I am God and you’re having my baby if you like it or not.”

Alkiarse was busy explaining to his cabbages that he would never eat them. “Now you know when I have vegetable soup I only use frozen veg from Iceland, I would never eat you, you are my only friends.” Suddenly a shadow appeared and he froze, it was LW all 44 stone of her. “Alkiarse I told you to look through the paper for money off vouchers for the pound shop, now get back inside.”

Asiannastymale was busy writing a letter of complaint, how dare they stage a nativity play when everyone knew it was ethnic cleansing and there was no way he was being the pig again.

Your choice of course, was busy taking bets on how long peace would reign in the real world of JC, he had given Annetteknitthecurtain good odds on five minutes.

Nonwelshfem and Jadey were also writing a letter of complaint, there was no way they were going to be the ugly sisters again but when their leader pointed out that was pantomime not nativity, they didn’t want to waste the cleverly crafted letter and sent it anyway.

MinnieClaireMouse and Mariapizzeria were fighting over who was going to be the innkeeper and the innkeeper’s wife. “I’m from the Valley don’t you take me on!” Mariapizzeria didn’t care if she was man, woman or donkey as long as they got to be at the bar.
“I’m not going to fight you for it Minnie, I’ll be a good little wife.” Blonde the Bolton Bomber sighed as she listened to the pair of them, “Can’t you two go without wine for just one night?”

MinnieClaireMouse and Mariapizzeria looked at Bolton Bomber as if she had grown two heads. “What stay sober in the real world of JC, who does that?” Mariapizzeria asked and MinnieClaireMouse, answered before Bomber could “Nut jobs.” Bomber tutted and went back to correcting the typo’s in the script that maturemale had written. :twisted: