A Black Christmas- a bit parochial but nostalgic

A Black Christmas

The bathroom mirror was steamed up. "Owch!", he cried as a trickle of blood appeared on his manly chin."Helen, have you been shaving your legs again?" he shouted loudly.

"No... , came the reply .... but I think Andrew has reached puberty!!!!"

Administering his usual aftershave 'Wild Colonial Boy' he recoiled with the sting. "Dearie me Price , you're still a hunk for 45" he said to the greying reflection that stared back at him.

After dressing hurriedly, he waved goodbye to his 'brood' sat at the kitchen table.

Donning his grey gannex coat (given to him by Harold Wilson in the 60's) he strolled up the garden path of his Ael-y-Bryn home. "Dammit!", he muttered "I've forgotten to kiss her goodbye".

Rushing back towards the house he stopped at the door... "Nearly, forgot you dear... you're still as Bootiful as when we first met...." he bent over and give Barbara's goose a peck on the cheek.

He kicked at the Dowlais slush that blocked his drive.

"Bloody drains again I bet!" he moaned.

On reaching his new Peugeot Turbo he become a new man. Away from the rigours of Catholic Family life, he donned his new identity ere he became Peugeot Man.'

Sliding in his Dubliners tape, he decided to brave the challenge of Mary Ann Street in the ice.

He wanted to be the first to spoil the virgin snow!, using a dead rabbit to clear the inside of his windscreen, our hero took his foot off the brake....

After clearing the civic amenity site by some forty feet , he landed with a crash on the refurbished Penydarren Boys Club astro- turf , fortunately the car landed in a pile of Salty's old tracksuits, cushioning the blow.

"Cor Blimey.... he said.... that was a good crack!"

Skidding along the pitch, he rejoined the highway at Gellifaelog Road, his head seemed a little clearer after that stunt he thought.

He drove along at the requisite 50mph down Penydarren High Street, refusing to stop at the roundabout, causing a learner-driver to fail his test.

Careering to a halt at Pontmorlais lights, he cast his mind back to the events of last night. Yes, it was coming back to him now, last night at his local he had won the much coveted title of " Morlais Tavern P A of the Year".

Come to think about it now, how come Tim Lewis came second, he isn't even an assistant!
Beep-beep came the mocking horn of the car behind him.

Without a thought, and with a flick of his electric windows, he gave that time-honoured one finger salute to the driver of the red Rover behind.

Suddenly realising what he'd done, he leaned out of the window to shout "Sorry Bill!", accelerating away on amber leaving his rival stranded.

Passing the familiar aroma of 'Morgan's the fish' he turned right into Castle Street. If only he had noted the film showing at the new Castle Cinema, perhaps he would have had an inkling into the kind of day that lay ahead. The illuminated advertisement without the benefit of planning consent read-Friday the 13th part 13.

Turning into the recently named Crole-Rees access road he arrived at the Civic Centre car Park. Dammit, he'd left his wallet at home--"No barrier passcard!" he groaned.

Reaching into his jacket pocket he pulled out his gold American Express card, to his amazement it worked and the barrier lifted allowing him in.

Parking in his usual space, he left without noticing that his interior light was faulty.

Punching in the usual numbers, he tried the door handle.... it refused to budge

. "Bloody Brittas has changed the combination again!" he shrieked wildly.

"Here , allow me" came a voice behind him... it was the driver of the red Rover.... "You obviously have a problem with one of your digits!" he snapped snidely.

Both men entered the building to an icy silence, on reaching the stair-well they went their separate ways.

Price pressed the lift-call button, the doors opened immediately, to his surprise before him stood Gareth 'Brush strokes' Jones sighing dejectedly.

"Sorry John, the lifts out.... the Guvnor has got me painting the floor and ceiling, apparently, it's the only room in the Civic Centre that I haven't done!"

"What about the Gents toilet on the 3rd Floor? John asked

. " Oh I've left that to the Neanderthal Cubicle Painter, unfortunately the dirty sod uses a different colour for his artistry!" came the reply.

John started up the stairs, pausing at the third level, he suddenly realised how unfit he had become.

Strewth he thought he remembered how in his single-days that he'd once bagged a dozen game birds before breakfast, and then went hunting and boy…….. had it been a 'Glorious Twelfth'.

Eventually reaching the top floor, his desire for caffeine could no longer be suppressed, he made a beeline for the kitchen.

“ Someone's had my bloody mug again !" he exclaimed. Carefully avoiding the Sheffield United mug he decided to select at random from the selection still present.

The Shirley Bassey mug, bought for an ungrateful 'bran tub' participant won the day.

Just the prospect of her 'Goldfinger' was enough he sighed.

Ambling back to his Magnolia Cell, he wondered what delights were in store for him today.

As soon as his backside touched his executive chair, the phone rang. In line with the Citizens Charter he answered " The name's Price, John Price-licensed to kill!(in a Bond-like manner).

• John- it's Thatch here...

" " Dennis, me old chum? ....

How's Maggie enjoying her retirement?

" "No, it's Peter the Mayor's secretary and I've got a problem--you know the Roman Run was on Sunday, well only five turned up ..........................................................................

Mark Price, Chris Lee, Jimmy Saville, Keith Harris and Orville....

" Pete, that's four" John interrupted..

.." What happened to Goughie then?"...

. " Oh , he was injured by the starting ribbon.... anyway I've got 296 T-shirts left over, what do I do with them?" Pete asked inquisitively.

• Easy one, do what we always do, get Donald to remove the logo and give them to the staff --pretend their for Unitary Status or something!" came JP's reply.

The line went dead.

John rose from his desk and entered the typing pool.

Amelia England sat at her desk speaking into the handset,

" Yes Mr Stokes only four turned up , apparently, there was a misprint on the poster printed in Rotaprint, it gave the impression that the Roman Run started in Brecon and ended in the Eternal City!!!"

 What happened to the runners then?" asked Stokes.

"Mark Price was last spotted in Calais on Wednesday morning!" she replied.

• There's no chance of a couple of T-shirts for my local church is there? .... there's one or two dyslexics who'd quite fancy a Mormon Run T-shirt .... by the way , I'm a medium!"

********

The scene changes to the Typing pool office where John Price is flanked by the regular inhabitants--Susan , Kay, Donna, Michelle, Heidi, Louise, Ashley, Margaret and a visiting Lynne Rees.

• Well John, what do you think of the decorations then?" asks Lynne Rees.

 Their a bit early aren't they?" he replied

. • Where've you been John, it's Friday the 13th of December today! answers Susan

. "Of course, the lighting ceremony is tonight.... the year has just flown!" he sighs.

"John, you look a bit of a ram.." said Jayne looking up from her 'Bella'...

."I bet you're an Aries!".

"How did you know that?" he asked nervously.

"I'm from Aberdare--- we're all descended from Romany gypsies over there

it says here that Pluto is nearing Uranus... .you keep dogs don't you John? .... it also says to heed a message from the grave.. .or you're in for a black day!"

"That's a load of old waffle, what star-sign am I then?" interrupted Lynne Rees.

"Gemini - the twins!" Jayne replied.

"Why do you say that?" Lynne enquired.

"Well, two reasons spring to mind" said Ashley cheekily.

"Who wrote those horoscopes anyway, some clairvoyant was it? asks Kay.

• No it wasn't her, it was Russell Grunt actually!" Jayne replied defensively

. "Hey, Ash I've got the perfect present for you, how do you fancy a nice black Roman Run T-.Shirt in return for an errand? It will go nicely with your black trousers, black belt and black eye? cajoles John

. • Is the Roman Run still going then..." asks Margaret (Glenda) Morgan...I remember it when it was called the Greek Run, they even named a chocolate bar after the place.. .what was it called now Susan?".

Susan pretends not to remember.

Michelle pipes up laughingly "Snickers?"

"Ah Yes that's right" she sighed in a Shirley Valentine voice. John leaves the office and heads for Barbara's room.

"John..." shouts Amelia... these T-shirts are going like hot cakes , I've had orders so far for 35 large, 40 small, and one with a gut expansion facility for Phil Evans....and are there any left over from the Junior Fun Run as Gareth, Lyn, John and Andrew are interested too...."

John is too engrossed in his own world to reply entering Barbara's Office he strode to the window.... strange he thought where's the Christmas Tree, it was normally up by now.... swinging his head to the right he could see that there was a shoal of migrating tinsel wrapped Tesco trolleys in the Taff...bloody 'ell the Guvnor will blow a fuse he thought.

The buzzing of the Selectacom startled him.

• John it's Amelia---I've got Stokes on the line, ringing from Cemeteries , a medium....’

John’s mind ran back to his horoscope, his mouth started to dry….'

"Is there anybody there?" came the voice.... I've got a message for John, it's from the cemeteries, if you're not careful you will have a problem with you lights tonight .................... " the line went suddenly dead, then Mair Shepherd's voice chirps up.

.. "Sorry John but Val cut you off. . .John are you okay?"

"Yes ................. he replied " I must still be a bit hung-over from last night..

He replaced the receiver.

I can't tell anyone he thought, they think he'd gone mad....

He opened the door and headed for his own office.

Opening the door he was confronted by an anxious Barwood.

"John we've got a problem, I'll come straight to the point we haven't got a Christmas Tree for tonight's lighting ceremony!"

"How come?" asks John still dazed.

"Well it's a classic cock-up, Mrs Beetroot ordered a tree from Douglas Firs of Abercynon.... the trouble is that the order was placed on an old order form with our Town Hall address."

Barwood continued...." and the new owner of the Chambers Nightclub, one Mr Fag-in, took 'receivership' of the delivery and erected it in the main foyer of the building and the Contractors will not budge , they are demanding payment claiming that they have carried out their contractual obligations and are threatening to sue ........

"So just go across and rip the tree down!!" said John slipping back into his Peugeot-man psyche.

"We can't --your planners have put paid to that , apparently somebody called Inkin says that any tree within the confines of a Listed Building or in close proximity to the Thomastown Conservation Area cannot be touched without the consent of the full Council and that will take SIX BLOODY WEEKS!!!!!

• What about Fag-in , won't he listen to reason? .... surely he knows it's not his tree?" queried John.

"No chance, he's hired some hot-shot solicitor Mr Vigours, who has a reputation for putting the 'boot' into the Council... .he claims that his client was told he would be eligible for a Brittas CIA Grant-a Christmas Illuminations Grant or so he presumed.... and to make matters worse the Planning Department upset Mr Fag-in by complaining about an un-authorised production of 'Fiddler on the Roof!"'

“Does the Guvnor know yet?" asked John anxiously.

• Yes, and he's in a foul mood , to make matters worse he lost on a play-off to Bob Shopland in the final of the Mount Open Golf Tournament last night!!!!" Barwood declared.

"What about the Contractor, has he any spare trees left?" John questioned.

"They did have a load, but Cynon Valley Borough Council must have got wind of our predicament, as we had a fax that they've bought up the remaining stock with their 1995 budget, oh yes and the fax had a one finger 'Unitary' salute!" moaned Barwood.

"Yes I'm aware of that gesture" John proclaimed.

"In fairness, the Leisure boys have been scouring the Yellow Pages for suppliers, but it's almost Christmas ....they can get a copy of 'Fly fishing' by JRR Hartley but no bloody Christmas trees!

"There's no other alternative then.... said John.... I'll have to call an emergency meeting of the 'Taffia'...what's the code for Swansea Road ....is it still 999?"

Picking up the hot-line he dialled a series of numbers. "Hello, Councillor Les, I've got a problem can you send the boys round?"

*~********~*~********~********************~~***~*****************

Peter the Mayor's Chaffeur smiled to himself, he was parked outside the Beverley Hills part of Merthyr ---- Dowlais Flats, his master had been visiting a constituent about a possible new 'contender' for a 'Boxing Day'Promotion, apparently the lad had shown great potential in the 'Charlotte' the night before. Returning to the limo Peter told the 'Mayor--

“Sorry to bother you Sir but I had a message from Elliott earlier ----ET phone home!!!!"

****

Healy sat bolt upright in bed.... something was wrong.... there was something warm and clammy in bed with him and it didn't feel like his woman.

Hesitantly, he slowly pulled back the sheets.... He screamed suddenly, it was the severed head of an sheep, bloodied, with an Asda home-brand and a post-it note stapled to it's ear.... it read --Merry Christmas Bill, it's for the Dowlais Pensioners! ....................... Emergency meeting Today 1.OOpm at Taffia HQ.

~***~r*~*****~~****~r****~****~r~~r*~~*************************~*****


The Chamber was packed , all the Heads of the 'Ward' families were present the Kay Twins, Jack 'the Hat' Handley, Alan 'Sonny' Jones, Dave 'Santa' James, Cath' Bonnie & Clyde' Rogers, Rod 'the Rod' Barrar.... to name but a few...

They all sat around waiting expectantly for the Don to arrive

Almost in 'Unison', they stood up silently greeting the arrival of the Dowlais Godfather.

Flanked by his henchmen, he strode to the rostrum, his piercing blue eyes twinkling at the assembled mass before him.

He was pleased with the attendance and the obvious level of respect that he commanded.

"Please Sit!" he declared.

The Chamber was so silent you could hear Stuart Jones eating his lunch.

Don 'Veto' Thomas stood up.

"Today is a black day... he announced. .. . Today someone has refused to show us respect, and I donnalikea-it... thata Fag-in he goes-a- too far, after all we done for him , we turned a blinda -eye to his HMO nubers racket because it helpa the street people ...but that notta nuff, we give heem permission for a UB40 concert atta de old place but he still want more .... he say I no give back your tree, he even give me the birda gesture .... he go a too far it's time I made him an offer he can't refuse!!!!!

"Let me pay himma little visit Boss!" pleads Kitty Go-lightly. "It's Just like the old days!"
declares Scarface Jarrett.

"No mercy Boss, Let's Smash the Brute!" declares Bill 'Wheels' Smith.

"Did someone say Brut, Yeh, Yeh, Yeh... Smash it all over... says 'Golden Gloves' Thomas in a Henry Cooper-type voice.

"All in favour of 'untouchable' Elliott Les giving him the 'Swansea Road kiss' say Aye!"

1tMotion carried unanimously!" declares John Price.

It's going to be a black day for Fag-in he thought--I wonder if he's Aries too!

******************************************************

Councillor Healy pushed his head around the door of the Typing Pool.

"I'm sorry to bother you but I'm supposed to see a chap at 1.OOpm here but I can't remember his name ...it's awful embarrassing.... his name sounds like a catalogue ...................................

"Freeman?" asked Louise helpfully.

"Brian Mills?" asked Heidi sarcastically.

"No no it's coming back to me now.... Asda price!!!.... apparently
he bagged a brace of pheasants over the Llanover Estate the other day on a site visit and has curried them and kindly donated them to me... sorry I mean the Dowlais Pensioners....

"Yes, said Michelle... take them, their hanging up in Stuart's room opposite"

"Thank You" he replied closing the door.

"I thought the room smelt better!" Donna proclaimed.

*****~*****~r****~r***~r*************~r~*********************~*********

The Leisure boys sat nervously at their desks.

In through the door comes Gibbsy proudly smiling like a Cheshire Cat

"Listen boys, when you want a job done properly come to old Gibbsy here, I've not only got us ONE Tree ----I've got us TWO!!!!

Barnett: "How did you manage that then?"

Gibbsy: "I managed to wangle out of Morrissey of Chesterfields the two plastic palm trees from the old Tiffanys. I spotted them in the storeroom in Argos, and I just got in before Chris Edwards bought his 'bran tub' present.

Williams:" I met my wife under one of them", he sighed.

Barnett: "It was this one I can see where she cocked her leg!! A barrage of plastic coconuts thundered off Barnett's barnet.

Mehegan: "Barwood will never buy those bloody things!"

Gibbs; "Stop moaning Mehegan, I've got it all worked out , we'll tell him that the Terence Higgins Trust have sponsored a 'Gay Christmas in Merthyr.... besides he's always moaning about things not being authentic... .so I've arranged with the Dowlais male Voice Choir to don the Nativity Costumes that we ordered by mistake for the August Show, to give it a different period feel....see there were no fir trees in Nazareth...!!!!"

ALL: Tony, you're a genius.

Gibbs: "I know!"

Griffiths: "Who won the illuminations contract this year?..' cos I saw Ray' Sparks' in the Lantern earlier and he looked awful dejected.

Williams: "Some French guy, apparently he submitted the lowest tender

Gibbsy: "Since we became 'Europeans' on January 1st 1993, the Economic Development and Tourism lot decided that our Clichy Brethren should be allowed to compete for all contracts.

The Guy's name is Berni Ampere and he's done quite a bit of work locally at Charbonniers, Baverstocks and Mountain Ash School. His references are positively 'glowing' , some gog called Meibion Glyndwr so it seems!"

Williams: "Won't Santa look out of place or is he arriving by camel this year?

Gibbsy: "Actually I've booked that local comedian , you know the one who resides in Neath, but spends his money in Greece Costus Money!

Griffiths: "What about reindeer?"

Gibbsy: "I've borrowed the impounding truck, you and Barnett pop up to Asda Car Park and round a few sheep , John Price is supplying the antlers

ALL: "Tony you're brilliant!"

Gibbsy: "I Know!!!!"

*~*******~*************~r~*******~***********~r***~~r~r~****************

Costus Money was running late, I'll be glad when they dual this stretch of the road as he dashed into the car, he had to be in Merthyr in ten minutes, for the lighting Ceremony.

Reaching speed of 130mph in his Jaguar XJS he tore up the Glynneath bank.

Frantically steering with his left foot, he attempted to get the Santa costume on.

Just like a True Company Rep he ignored the chevrons at the Swansea Road turning, swerving around the bend, he wasn't sure that he'd taken the correct exit .... the car left the road, landing in another area recently landscaped by the Groundwork Trust.

Fortunately, although the car was a 'Write-off' he was unharmed. It's okay he thought I'll report it stolen later.

Flagging down a passing 'Faster-than-Clayton's' Bustler, he sat down in the empty bus to gather his thoughts. He was lucky that the Bustler driver was kind, giving him a freebie in exchange for a promise to call at his house on Christmas Eve.

The Bus dropped him off in Bethesda Street , right next to the 'Jurassic Park' Nursing Home.
Ideal he thought, I'll just make a few adjustments to my make-up.

As he stood at the front door one of the warders grabbed him thinking he was one of the inmates with senile dementia.

As he was dragged up to reception by his beard, he thought I wonder if this is the one my mothers.

***

The dragging stopped momentarily.

"Picking up or dropping off?" said a masculine feminine voice.

" I thought this might be one of yours from C Wing" said the warder.

"He looks too well nourished to be ours!" came the reply, "Give him his customary Sherry and send him on his way ....................................................................................................................

.. Hang on a minute .... aren't you that minor television celebrity from the Welsh Quiz-shows...What's your name now... .Richard Bale isn't it?"

"Certainly not... squeaked Costus...I've got some pride!" "Forget the sherry then Butch ,
just sling him out!"

Costus landed with a bump back on Bethesda Street. He picked himself up, dusted himself down and started across the bustling Abermorlais car park.


~~*~****~**~***~********~******~~r~r*************~r~********~**~****

Mike Thomas stood outside the entrance to the Civic Centre, he was absolutely roasting, despite the fact it was a below freezing December night.

The reason that he was so hot was the thick donkey costume he'd been coaxed into wearing.

He felt an ass in this attire, he thought. Why did he draw the short straw, he wondered, something stinks...besides this costume. . .he grumbled under his breath How come Bill got to play one of the Magi. . .surely he wasn't typecast .... besides he didn't believe the boys claims that he'd signed up for the Dowlais Mule Voice Choir ..........................

Still, he thought it could be worse... I could be the hind end... "Are you alright back there Del?"
brayed Mike.

"Well the view could be better!" Del whispered back..."I could do with a pee, after all that sherry in the Mayors parlour...."

"Remember to Cock your leg again in character, I'll do the whistling...." Mike suggested.

The whole choir looked splendid dressed in their Nativity outfits, they even had a wooden crib to give it that authentic feel.

"Eugh, there's an ugly baby Jesus!" said Phil Jones leaning over the side of the crib.

"Sod off Phil .... said a swaddling-wrapped Andrew Owen...or you'll have one a knuckle sandwich!"

"Come on Phil, leave Baby Herman alone, you know these artiste's are temperamental..." laughed Hindley.

The square was filling up.... wide-eyed children sported scarves, mittens and makeshift carboard reindeer hats.... adults reliving their childhood and the resplendant Tiffany Palm Trees swaying in the gentle breeze.

Everything is turning out to plan mused Gibbsy, standing by his tinselled 'reindeer' stall.


“They don't look like reindeer to me dad" said Adam, towering over his father Robert

. "They're Scottish reindeer .... from Lapland... interrupted Gibbsy

"They're an endangered species!" "

Why's that Bambi, got an Asda brand on his bum then Dad?" the inquisitive child continued

. "That's where we quarantined 'em son!" replied the quick-fire Leisure man. "

So why's he not eating his carrots then?" said the boy , genetically smelling a rat.

f° He went to a stag night last night ....now why don't you go and see Santa little boy!" snarled Gibbsy through gritted teeth.

Excitement filled the air as the Mayor's balcony door opened.

Peter the Mayor's secretary in true game show tradition announced "And now the first person, you've all be waiting for .................................................. herrrrrrrre's EDDIE!.... the theme from Rocky plays loudly in the background ....................................


Inside the parlour, Costus helped himself to his eighth sherry, passing through the happy stage, he dribbled in a drunken stupor.

He could vaguely hear in the background his cue.... staggering to the balcony.... he reached the handrail.. . .looking down at the assembled mass, he could contain himself no longer.... he vomitted over the side of the handrail... .the diced carrot concoction poured onto the sleeping face of 'Baby Jesus' Owen.... who promptly leaped up and slugged the Donkey.

Costus, so disgusted at the brawl that ensued ran out of the parlour in tears.

John Price's heart sank.... surely things could not possibly any worse but they were about to...

"Quick.. said Barwood...

The engineer that had lost the cut of the cards dressed hurriedly, he had hoped that he would not be needed.... Trudging through the milling crowd , he selected one child from the throng to sit on his knee.

"What do you want for Christmas then LLoyd Prosser-Rees?"

"I want a Mountain bike, Meccano, a Nintendo, and a chainsaw please Santa!" said the angelic 4 yearold.

"Here's some Tiger Tokens, go to the garage at the bottom of town, you know the one surrounded by the traffic cones!"

"Yes, Graham.... said LLoyd politely.

"How did you know it was me ..?" Worthington asked. "You're shirt is hanging out...."
came the innocent reply.

"Look!" came a voice from the crowd "Up on the roof! .... it's the real Father Christmas

Costas had decided that life was no longer worth living, he was going to end it all.... as he balanced along the ridge tiles his melancholy sherry stage had taken over .... as he reached the Golden weathervane he belched loudly... .

“this time he said that's it... I'm going to do it!"

*****

John Price could not believe it.... it was then that Peugeot man tookover.... °1Quick, Burrows and tj?ek.=ber, come with me …..Mrs Beetroot call the fire brigade now!!"

The three men rushed to the stairs that led to the roof.

"I can't go.... said Burrows.... I'm altophobic!"

"And I'm scared of heights ....anything above the height of a great Dane I am struggling “ barked Webber.

Peugeot-man Price knew what he had to do, grabbing his silver parker pen for balance, he walked the trapeze of ridge tiles to the drunken Costus.

"Don't come any closer or I'll jump nobody finds me funny any more " sobbed Costus.

"What do you mean any more.... asked John .... we think you're very funny, that's why we always book you.... the fact you're the cheapest is purely incidental!"

"Yes, c°mon on down.. .said Burrows in a Leslie Crowthervoice....the Price is right!!!!"

t1You're just saying that, to get me down! Hysterically Costus wailed

"Yes , we are --shouts Webber bluntly can I have his remains for my dogs Paul?" he whispers to Paul.
Costas leaves go of the weather-vane with one hand ..........................

"I must warn you that if you've damaged the Town's Clerk cock , we will take legal action “ decrees Burrows.

"That's it goodbye ................................................... cruel world...!" proclaims Costas taking one small step off the roof .......................................................

John Price makes a frantic dive to catch him, in doing so, losing his grip on the ridge tiles fortunately, Ken being used to wrestling Rottweilers grips Price and Costus stopping them hurtling to the floor .................................................................

The sound of Fire engines sirens drawing nearing alerts Express reporter 'Stray cat' wild.... peering out of the Glebeland Street office he could just make out some figures scrabbling about on the roof of the Civic Centre... . grabbing his Polaroid Camera he dashed to yet another exclusive scoop....

****

"Okay, who's toaster this time?" asks Fireman Overbury.

"No-- up on the roof , it's a jumper!" cried Hefina with glee....

The situation on the roof had not improved, Costus was now hanging over the parapet, Ken and John had exchanged positions, and Burrows had fainted...

"John I'm going to try to climb up, using your clothes for support-okay, said Ken.

What a bloody day John thought... I'll never mock a horoscope again.. I promise... surely things can't get any worse...

But they did... the leather belt made from a dodo John had shot on Mauritius, suddenly snapped and Ken, Costas and John's trousers and pants disappeared from view


Fortunately for Ken and Costus their fall was broken by Bill Thomas below. Unfortunately, for Bill he broke both his arms , his left leg and hairline fractured his money-belt...

But what hurt Bill most was the cheer that resounded from the gathered Revenue Staff

"Quick... said Peter Davies.., do something to distract the children... put the lights on....!" motioning to Berni Ampere to flick the switch ..

*****

Alone on the roof, with the exception of the slumped body of Burrows, clung John Price.

That horoscope was right .... he thought... even down to the Pluto nearing Uranus bit.... he was indeed having a black d

"Zut alors!" declared Berni ," You have trois points... never mind he said as he plunged his plug into the socket .............................................................................................................................

The ensuing bang could be heard in Dowlais Top...

"Switch to emergency power,.... a Big Muck was it Sir, with large fries? declared the Mack Donald's Manager.

The whole of Merthyr Tydfil had been plunged into total darkness, all except the Golden M at Dowlais that is....

In the ensuing chaos that prevailed many silent hands made busy....

When the light was finally restored the twenty or thirty people left that had not gone to Mack Donalds were awe-struck .... a fifty feet Christmas Tree had appeared almost by magic .... the only clue was the discarded 'Gren’s 1' trolley parked outside the Law Courts.

"There's a Hunter's moon tonight then!" declared 'Stray cat' Wild to the Town Clerk, as he took rapid shots of the roof of the Civic Centre.

Looking up the Town Clerk could see why hanging from the roof top was a bare-bottomed John Price....

~***~**~~~**~r*****************************~~********************~**

Standing next to the 'reindeer' stall Gibbsy didn't bat an eyelid, .... the emergence of the Christmas Tree didn't surprise him one bit

Barnett looked up at the tree with a puzzled expression on his face.

"Tell me Tony .... who's the fairy at the top of the tree?" "I've got an idea.... muttered Tony...

that whoever it is.... was made an offer he couldn’t refuse!!!!!