Christmas Dinner (WARNING EXPLETIVES USED).
There’s panic in the kitchen
From the cook comes plenty a bitchin’
Fricken bird won’t fit in the cooker
Frantic hands push, ‘get in you bastard fucker’
It’s like a reverse birth
Bloody turkey has too much girth.
Finally it concedes defeat
Minus drumsticks, breast and feet.
Now to relax with a glass of sherry
To Enjoy family and to be merry.
Oh no! Yet to do the sprouts, gravy and sauce
Never mind the first course
Frantic knife work, one pint of blood lost
Can’t believe how much this has cost
Less Band-Aid on radio, more on hand
The kitchen is by far under-manned.
Sprouts now done, cooked to a green pulp
Another glass of sherry, another deep gulp.
Chef is now a little red in the face
Looking like he’s been sprayed with mace
Still, the gravy looks good, one lump or two?
Starting to think Christmas dinner will be stew.
All the vegetables are now well done
Where’s the sherry – give me some?
Family arrive with plenty a colourful smile
Trouping to the tree in single file
A percussion of clattering comes from the food area
Chef is looking funny, has he got malaria?
Presents opened, socks, hats and Susan Boyle are exchanged
Guests unknowing that Christmas dinner has been rearranged
Chef stumbles from the kitchen completely drunk,‘Cappy Histmas all, I’m pissed, turkey’s fucked, anybody for skunk?