So anyway, there we were. She was naked, of course, and – obviously – sitting behind the drum kit while I wound up the battery-operated cheese grater and we got ready for the evening’s festivities.
This Christmas though, I am not sure whether we will be doing the same thing or not, especially as there is a waiting list for the drum stool, which is now standing at 37 names. Consequently I’m, not sure we will get it back in time for Christmas Eve, especially if that odd bloke, Mr Balalaika, from five doors up, wants it to sit upon whilst he undertakes his annual rooftop vigil on the lookout for low-flying reindeers.
Even though nearly everyone in the street has attempted to explain to him about myth, tradition and the difference between fact and fiction, he is adamant that he saw the sleigh pass his house one Christmas, when he was a child, and never stop. Ever since then he has kept up this lonely yuletide vigil.
Latterly, Mr Balalaika has convinced himself that the CIA - for what he regards as obvious hegemonic reasons to do with the USA’s war on foreign overly-bearded gentlemen – have equipped Santa with stealth technology for his sleigh, as well as the traditional under-cover beard.
Despite this however, there are some positive benefits to his stance. For example, the prospect of having to walk past an armed man on the rooftop has – in recent years - kept the number of carol singers prepared to risk their lives to come down our street to easily manageable levels.
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