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17 Dec 24 - 11:16 AM (#4213649) Subject: Lyr Add: The night before Christmas From: Monologue John The Night Before Christmas By Simon Law Adapted by Simon Law from a Richard Stilgoe Original Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the flat Not a creature was stirring, not even a rat. The light has gone off on the silent TV (We’d seen ‘Back to the Future’ and ‘Jaws 2 and 3’) I’d had three Peperami, a litre of Fanta And now I was ready and waiting for Santa I knew he was coming – I knew I was right For Mummy and Daddy had kissed me goodnight And Mum had said “That noise – I heard it again, dear”. “I’ll close all the windows, in case of the rain, dear! “ I tried to ignore my digestion’s loud rattle (For three Peperami put up quite a battle) And that’s when I heard them – the sleigh bells a-jingling. They shouted instructions that set my scalp tingling - “Come Rudolph, come Harry, come Hermoine, keep prancing Come Craig and Alesha, come Brucie, come dancing. Come Lampard, come Crouch, Wayne Rooney, don’t slack And please Graham Norton – keep up at the back!” I heard their hooves clatter and scrabble for grip (For our roof is quite steep and it’s easy to slip). I heard Santa alight and I heard my heart beating For then I remembered – we have central heating! The flue–pipe is tiny – he hasn’t a hope But surely he’s magic – of course – he can cope. He’ll squeeze down the chimney – he has – that’s the noise Of a very small man with a small sack of toys. He’s got to the boiler – I heard a small cough Poor Santa, I hope that the gas is turned off. Go back, Santa Claus – it’s not too late to jump Oh no! I can hear him – he’s caught in the pump. He’s off on the circuit, through all of the rads The hall, then Sam’s bedroom and then Mum and Dad’s. He’s going through mine now – I heard a small clank! It’s the towel rail next, and then the hot water tank. Then back to the boiler –now gasping for breath He can’t have survived. What a horrible death. Hush, listen! – Exactly, there isn’t a sound Poor Father Christmas has definitely drowned. How shocking! No stockings, no gifts anymore No presents for me, or for Kevin next door. The kids of the world will be simply appalled And blame us, for having the heating installed. My brain in a fury, I had a small weep And, pale and confused, must have fallen asleep. I woke to the sound of the pipe’s early knocking Remembered the horrors, then noticed my stocking. The varicose sides and the end-of-toe tumour That speaks of the Rolos, the Twix, the satsuma! I cried “Santa lives – it was only a dream!” (The heating cheered too with a small hiss of steam!) What a nightmare – but my fault. I must have been barmy, Last thing at night to eat three Peperami. |