Monday, December 26, 2005

Merry Christmas

THIS POST HAS BEEN STUCK TO THE TOP UNTIL MIDNIGHT TONIGHT. SCROLL DOWN FOR MORE.


A Yuletide Missive From Hell Towers

Oh, very well; everybody else seems to be dedicating a post to this Christmas rubbish, so I suppose that I had better greet you from Hell Towers. Here I am in the west wing, standing in front of the main Christmas tree. Rather grand, don't you think? Naturally, the tree has been stuffed to the gills with all the very best presents and sweeties that money can buy.

Out of sight, over there, situated a little too close to the roaring fire, is a large cage of chewing-gum champing orphans. They imagine that, at 7 this morning, they shall be released from the cage and allowed to tear the paper from the presents and claim all of those consumer goodies for themselves.

How wrong they are! In fact they will be released into a larger cage full of Care Officers, State Psychologists, Outreach Workers and Margaret Hodge. Having played numerous games of "guess the Marc Dutroux", Christmas Day will pass rapidly in an orgy of fear, buggery, major cover-ups, and "understanding" of their problems. A bit like your humble Devil's schooldays actually (apart from the understanding)...

On Boxing Day, these "orphans" will then be released into the tender care of the god-awful families that abandoned them in rubbish bins and scrappy copses throughout the country, and then the whole kit and caboodle will be deported to an immigrant slum in Belgium, where their passports will be confiscated.

The Care Officers, State Psychologists and Outreach Workers will then be escorted to their own private hell. Yes, that's right: they will be installed in private sector jobs where they face an eternity of actually having to do some useful work, knowing that, even were they able to retire, there would be no index-linked pension waiting for them. For every day off sick, they will be locked in a room with the Hudsons for a week.

Margaret Hodge, meanwhile, will be delivered into the hands of some nice Albanian gentlemen. I don't know what'll happen then, although I have a fairly good idea that the irony of the ensuing events will amuse me...

Anyway, time for some port, methinks, and a large cigar; I shall put my feet up and revel in the screams and moans for mercy. So a very Merry Christmas here at Hell Towers—well, for me, at least: I don't expect to stop laughing for a good ten days yet! I only hope that yours is as satisfying as mine...

Very best regards,

DK

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