A little bit mad, a little bit anarchic, but hopefully unexpected and engaging…
(If you missed part four, click here)
Part Five: The Bit about the Bonfire
Jed and Yolanda crept into church while everyone was singing a hymn from 987 BC. It was the usual scene in the church. A few people were awake, using matchsticks to keep their eyelids open. One or two had used blue tack to pull their mouths up into fixed smiles. But a lot more folks were singing in their sleep. Their mouths opening and closing like goldfish. One or two had got the songs muddled and were singing Football’s Coming Home. Yolanda held up a fistful of fresh Fun Dust, made just that morning and accidentally and unexpectedly sneezed! A huge cloud of the stuff wafted up into the air and danced about like Mr Bean at the disco. Shooting here, there and everywhere. After a while it boogied towards the front of the church and did the Charlston, followed by the Mash Potato before it landed on the big church Bible.
There was a crack of thunder and a streak of lightning and a pile of firewood came shooting upwards out of the Bible, followed by a man with a big white beard. ‘It’s Father Christmas!’ one of the children shouted! The man who looked like Father Christmas grabbed the firewood sticks as he scrambled about in mid-air, then he hit the church floor with a crash, shouting ‘Prattling Prophets!’ He then stood up, dusted off his robe, which wasn’t anything like Father Christmas’s red tunic, and carried the wood to the centre aisle. Once there he piled it up on the carpet, grabbed a jug with some dead flowers in it and tipped the flowers and the stagnant water inside all over the wood. Then he said, ‘Stand back you lazy-lubbers! Things are going to get a little on the warm side.’
Everyone woke up and someone said, ‘Ooh is it bonfire night? I’ve got a sparkler from 1995 in my handbag.’
‘Hang on, you can’t do that, it’s against everything Health and Safety,’ said a man wearing a high viz jacket and a yellow hard hat.
‘Yes and it’s political correctness gone mad!’ yelled a five year old who had not actually heard of political correctness until it came out of his mouth.
But it was too late for Health and Safety or Political Correctness, the man who looked like Father Christmas threw his head to the sky, or rather to the ceiling covered in cobwebs and gargoyles, and called out, ‘Oh Living God, wake everyone up please, light a fire here that never goes out.’
And suddenly a fiery ball came crashing through the roof and landed on the pile of wood. There was a whoosh as the wood caught fire and bright yellow flames came dancing and congaing out. The man smiled and nodded. ‘See,’ he said, and he dusted his hands off.
A few folks came out of their seats to have a look, and one or two of the children toasted some marshmallows. Jed and Yolanda joined in as well. ‘Now that’s what I call bonkernuts,’ Jed said and Yolanda agreed, but just as everyone was smiling and getting sticky marshmallow bits stuck to their chin there was a roar from the Bible and a shout of, ‘Get that prophet!’ A bunch of nasty-looking soldiers came hurtling out of the big book and hurdling over the pews, knocking off hats, scarves, headphones and berets as they came. ‘Run!’ yelled the man who looked like Father Christmas… (to be continued)
For part six, click here.