Enjoy ... or else!

Apparently the ACPM Team are going to have a happy Xmas, by order. Auntie Pamela has threatened us with all the horrors of hell if we act up over the festive season. She has even prepared a "naughty shaft" in the mine, fitted out with manacles and a CD of Bing Crosby set on repeat play. Just the one song, and you can guess which. It's that bit when he starts whistling that drives me mental.

Anyway, that puts paid to my cherished hope of throttling Groida across the Monopoly board. I thought outbreaks of long-suppressed feuding, along with gluttony, are what the day is all about, but it would seem I have been mistaken.

Auntie P becomes more autocratic by the day. Firstly, the Krazy Kurnow has become a place of unease under her iron claw. She stalks amongst the customers in her lace pinny, brandishing an extendable polis baton. No one dares challenge the amount of jam on their scone or her erratic issuing of change. Even on the first day of her regime, a foolish punter expressed admiration for her grand opening and consequently is not expected to leave hospital until February.

Then there is our Xmas Day scoff. She has banned turkey "in retaliation for outrages commited on the person of T E Lawrence". I should never have let her see the fillum.

Thankfully we already have some emergency pheasants gently decomposing in a sack, courtesy of road kill (in the loosest sense as it involved the harmomium's infra-red searchlights and Gatling guns). Furthermore, Uncle Lucas, in his capacity as contract executioner at Newquay Zoo, has learned on the grapevine that a poorly resident may shortly be up for grabs. I hope the wretched creature makes it through to 2012 as I won't look forward to tucking into the stringy carcass of an elderly hippo or llama with my sprouts, parsnips and bread sauce.

In the mean time I shall attempt to exercise tolerance and smile sweetly as I am forced to endure Auntie P's relentless carols while she prepares the Bread & Butter Stollen ("destined to last last a thousand years"). Try to imagine Bonnie Tyler belting out "O Come All Ye Faithful" after several pitchers of Armenian Tizer and you'll have a rough idea of conditions down the mine.