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The Twelve Days of Christmas

Posted on November 27, 2010 at 4:58 PM

Ok, here's another funny from the Neville Harvey book of laughs.................get the song sheet out and sing along. Nathan, you're first up.



14thDecember

My Dearest DarlingJohn,

I went to the door today and the postman had delivered a partridge in a pear tree. What a delightful gift. Thank you Darling for the lovely thought.

With deep love and affection always,

Your loving Agnes.

 

15thDecember

My Dearest John,

Today the postman brought your very sweet Two Turtle Doves.I am delighted, they are adorable.

All my love forever,Agnes.

 

16thDecember

Dearest John,

Oh, how extravagant you are. I really must protest. I don’tdeserve such generosity. Three French Hens. I insist you are too kind.

My love, Agnes.

 

17thDecember

Dear John,

What can I say? Four Calling Birds arrived this morning with the postman. Your kindness is too much.

Love, Agnes.

 

18thDecember

Dearest John,

What a surprise. Today the postman delivered Five GoldRings, one for each finger. You really are an impossible boy, but I love you.

Frankly all the birds are beginning to squawk and are getting on my nerves.

Your Loving Agnes.

 

19thDecember

Dear John,

When I opened the door this morning, there were actually SIXbloody great geese laying eggs all over the front step. What on Earth do youthink I am supposed to do with them all? The neighbours are beginning tocomplain about the smell and I cannot sleep. Please STOP sending them.

Agnes.

 

 

20thDecember

John,

What is it with you and these sodding birds? Now I get SevenSwans a-Swimming. Is it some sort of goddamned joke? The house is full of birdshit. This is not funny anymore. Stop sending these bloody birds.

Agnes.

 

21stDecember

O.K. Buster,

I think I prefer the birds. What the hell am I going to do with Eight Maids-a-milking? It’s enough with all those bloody birds and now I have eight cows shitting all over the house and mooing all night.

Lay Off.

Agnes.

 

22ndDecember

LOOK CRAPHEAD

What are you? Some kind of nut? Now I have Nine Pipers playingand Christ do they play!! When they aren’t playing their sodding pipes, theyare chasing the maids through the cow shit. The cows keep mooing and trampling allover the bloody birds and the neighbours are threatening to have me evicted.

Get Knotted.

Agnes.

 

23rdDecember

YOU ROTTEN BASTARD

Now I have Ten Ladies dancing. How on Earth you can call these whores “ladies” is beyond me. They are pulling the pipers all night long, the cows can’t sleep and they all have diarrhoea. My living room is a sea of shit and the landlord has just declared the building as unfit for human habitation.

Piss Off!

Agnes.

 

24thDecember

LISTEN, SHITFACE!

What with the Eleven Lords-a-Leaping all over the maids and me, I shall never walk again. The pipers are fighting the lords for loose women and committing sodomy with the cows. The birds are all dead and rotting, having been trampled on during the orgy. I hope you’re satisfied, you asshole.

Your Sworn Enemy

Agnes.

 

 

 

 

 

25thDecember

YOU STINKING LOUSY SHIT

Twelve Drummers have teamed up with the pipers and are making one hell of a bleeding din. Both lots have begun buggering the lords as well as the cows and Christ knows what’s happened to the milkmaids - they’ve probably drowned in the cow shit by now. The only way I’ve saved myself from being screwed to death is by hiding up that sodding pear tree which has been so well fertilised by all the animal shit that it has grown through the bloody roof!

Agnes

 


Categories: Short Story, Humor, Phil Neale

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1 Comment

Reply Stuart Hughes
1:50 PM on December 1, 2010 
Hi Phil,

I loved this. Very funny. I liked the way Agnes' notes started all lovey dovey and then became more and more fraught as the presents continued to arrive.

On a technical point, I'm sure you know this, but The Twelve Days of Christmas start with Christmas Day and finish with the eve of Epiphany on 5th January. You might want to consider changing the dates of each note.

Nice one.

Regards,

Stuart