Skit Comp 21 - 31.12.16

Cool has-beans so congratulations to FRANKIE for winking. Your prize is to PM me with a subject for next wank please. I am generous.

Hence:

Votes - Points - Name
2 - 10 - Frankie
1 - 5 - Gappy

Your next subject is CHRISTMAS (chosen by PLAYFULL).
Rules:
One entry/vote per person. Anyone can enter regardless of colour, sexual preferences or inside leg measurement, except Italo-US mongeese.
Can be a sketch, joke, lyric or anything else as long as it's yours and vaguely linked to the topic. Please try to post just your entry/vote.
You can edit your entry as much as you want, up until the closing time.

Competition closes: 31.12.16

Scoreboard is now:
Position - Points - Name
1 - 25 - Gappy, Frankie Rage
2 - 10 - Playfull, Otterfox
3 - 5 - me

INT. SANTA'S FACTORY.

SANTA:
It's just not the same anymore.. listen to this.. <READS FROM LETTER> 'What I want for Christmas is a woman with a big fat ass.." ..I mean, what does he think I can do about that? And he's only six!

HELPER:
<GIGGLES> Well, there's always Mrs Claus..

SANTA:
Eh? Oh, true.. true.. anyway, let's get finalised and get this show on the road.. I mean, in the sky.. and let's get it over with for another year..

HELPER:
<GIGGLES> Ok, Santa..

SANTA:
Can't you ever speak without that damned giggle?

HELPER:
<NERVOUS GIGGLE> Yes, of course Santa..

SANTA:
Sorry, not got my jolly hat on today..

HELPER:
<GIGGLES> Why do you keep going Santa, they say no one believes in you anymore and kids know it's all just made up..

SANTA:
Yes, it's a drag alright but I'm under doctors orders..

HELPER:
Really, Santa..

SANTA:
Yes, I have to keep doing it for my elf!

HELPER:
<GIGGLES>

Why are Birmingham prison guards rubbish at cooking Turkey? They always let the wings burn.

INTERNAL - LOCAL SATURDAY MARKET AND CAR BOOT SALE, AROUND CHRISTMAS TIME.

DAVE AND SANDRA ARE STROLLING ALONG WHEN SANDRA NOTICES A STALL SELLING CHRISTMAS TREES.

THERE IS A SIGN THAT READS "FREE RANGE CHRISTMAS TREES"

SANDRA: Oh look at that love, free range Christmas trees, what a good idea.

DAVE: Don't be so daft, there's no such thing as a free range Christmas tree.

SANDRA: How do you know? You can't even tell the difference between a real one and a fake one.

DAVE: I was only joking earlier with your mother. I knew it was a real tree, I just like winding her up.

SANDRA: Well you should have just kept your mouth shut.

DAVE: I only said, "at least this year you won't have to hoover up the pine needles every day."

SANDRA: Well you better behave on Christmas day otherwise she'll put a few of them needles in your dinner and choke you.

DAVE: Now there's an idea, I might slip in a few myself, that would really piss her off if I find a bit of Christmas tree in her precious gravy.

SANDRA: Behave.

SANDRA PULLS DAVE TOWARDS THE CHRISTMAS TREE STALL.

SHE WALKS AROUND AS DAVE IS LEFT STANDING NEXT TO THE FREE RANGE CHRISTMAS TREE SELLER.

DAVE: So how come they are free range then?

SELLER: They are all organically grown on a local farm.

DAVE: I understand that bit. But what makes them free range?

SELLER: They are given plenty of natural daylight, and are allowed to roam around freely.

DAVE: But trees can't move they are stuck in the ground.

SELLER: I wouldn't be so sure, have you ever been to the farm on a windy day? You should see them swaying back and forth.

DAVE: Well of course they move in the wind, but they can't get up and walk.

SELLER: They could if they wanted to, it's all about giving them the choice.

DAVE: So giving a Christmas tree the choice to be able to get up and walk around makes them free range?

SELLER: Yeah that's right.

DAVE: So that would mean every Christmas tree is free range then?

SELLER: No course not, don't you know the difference between a real Christmas tree and a fake one?

AS THEY ARE TALKING SANDRA OVER HEARS THE SELLER TALKING TO DAVE AND WALKS OVER.

SANDRA: Is he talking about Hoover's again?

SELLER: No love, I was just explaining to your husband about our free range Christmas trees.

SANDRA: I think they are lovely, and it's a great idea. How much are they?

SELLER: £200 for a dozen love.

END

Geri Halliwell offered me a present. She said, So tell me what you want, what you really really want...
Baby Christ had his first poo. Holy shit!
Good times for beef, lettuce and tomato. They're on a roll... Bad times for gherkins. They're in a pickle.
Santa puts sweets down his trousers. Smartie pants.
What did the cannibal say at Christmas? Eat me under the mistletoe.
Why doesn't Santa wear underpants? Because he's really Nicholas.
What's Cliff Richard's favourite herb? Christmas thyme.
Santa won't use a private car. He's nothing to show-fer-it.
Heard about Santa's helper uprooting a rose? Elf raising flower.
Dr Who's so excited about this Christmas, he's having a party last year.
How did the depressed angel feel? Lo!
What did Adele say to the angel? Halo... I had an argument with Charlie Puth. We don't talk any more.
My fish sleeps all through Christmas. Must be a kipper... My other fish balances on a stool. Must be a perch.
Andrew Dice Clay spent so much on Christmas presents he's in debt. Owe!
Santa, do you remember the first time all that brandy made you drunk? - No. All that brandy had made me drunk.
I spend so much on Christmas shopping I get into debt three times. I owe, I owe, I owe.
Why doesn't Santa bring the bride and groom presents Thurs to Tues? It said, Just Wed.
I'd hate to be a lemon at Christmas. All bitter and twisted.
What tense is useful at Christmas? Present, pefect, continuous.
Which villain eats a lot of vegetables at Christmas? Green gobblin'.
Which python relaxes at Christmas? Eric Idle.
My computer must be hungry at Christmas dinner. It has 128 megabites.
What does my wife give my credit card at Christmas? Her best swishes.
How did Diana Ross order seafood for Christmas dinner? 'I want mussels.'.. What did Jamie Lawson say when he got a surprise gift? Wasn't execting that... How does Sam Smith tell Santa what he wants? Writes it on the wall.
Only half my students turn up at Christmas. But it's okay. I'm a class half-full, not class half-empty kinda guy.
Santa loves making Christmas pudding... He does it with such a-plumb.
Why did the elf cross the funfair? To get to the other slide.
Why did Santa's helper buy a camera? To take an elfie.
Joe Cocker's Christmas dessert is locked away. He says, 'Unchain my tart.'
Why is Christmas for ladies only? Because it's snow man time.
What's Steve Jobs' favourite Christmas dish? Yule blog.
Why is Santa never pecked by geese? Because he's impeccable.
And then I woke up and realised... It'd all just been a terrible routine.

TARQUIN: Are we all here, comrades?

ALEXA: Yes.

RALPH: Yup.

TARQUIN: Good. Though I thought there would be more of us.

ALEXA: Nope. We're the liberal elite.

RALPH: Yup. Oh, Zoe's not here, she couldn't get a baby sitter.

TARQUIN: That's pretty bad form, we have whole nations to run. Shall we expel her from the liberal elite?

RALPH: That probably wouldn't be very liberal.

TARQUIN: No, good point, well made. So, agenda item 1: banning Christmas. How's that been going?

ALEXA: I wrote an editorial about festive food waste.

RALPH: I funded an urban dance troupe expressing disdain for cis-culture.

TARQUIN: And I retweeted both. I'd say there's not more we could have done. Well done, everybody, Christmas is a thing of the past.

ALEXA: Yes. It's just that...well, there's does seem to be a lot of Christmas about still. Considering it's banned.

RALPH: Yes, I was thinking that. On my way over, I saw a lot of decorations, and numerous Christmas trees, and myriad office parties packed with the potential for hideous romantic regret.

TARQUIN: Hmm. I saw stuff like that, too, but I assumed I must have been hallucinating because of too many artisanal Tia Marias.

ALEXA: 'Fraid not, Tarquin. And, can I just check, why were we banning Christmas, again?

TARQUIN: Because Muslims.

RALPH: Yup, because Muslims and lesbian kabuki theatre.

ALEXA: Oh, yes, that's right. Although...although I almost never see those things - even when it's not Christmas. Should we, perhaps, have been...more...elite?

RALPH: Yup, I've always had an inkling that, as an elite, we could definitely be a bit eliter.

TARQUIN: Well, this is my concern, you see: elitism doesn't exactly go with liberalism, does it? They sort of cancel each other out. So that's probably why Christmas still exists. I'll have to redouble my efforts, I shall march on Greenland tomorrow, see if we can't nip this Christmas thing in the bud.

ALEXA: After the bud.

TARQUIN: After the bud, ALexa, well done. Let's see if we can't nip this thing seventeen hundred years after the bud. Right, I'm off to start my march. Coming, Ralph?

RALPH: Yup, I'd like to but...it won't work.

TARQUIN: Why not?

ALEXA: Because, as a straight white male, you're a voiceless minority, nobody will listen to you.

TARQUIN: Oh, rats, you're right. Oh well, at least we managed last year's objective, then!

RALPH: Ha ha! Happy Christma- only joking!

[UPROARIOUS LAUGHTER]

TARQUIN: Oh, you!

NARRATOR:
There was trouble at the Cassidy's - Christmas trouble. The turkey turned out to be a very large crow, the tree was awash with sap and squirrel droppings and the mulled wine had far too little wine to the vast quantities of mull. Mistakes had been made, errors of judgments had happened. Christmas was broken.

Even the chimney had become much narrower in recent years and for a man of Santa Claus' girth there was serious trouble a-brewing. Little Stephen was weeping into the Christmas cards, Amy was attempting to ease the trauma by drawing pictures of snowmen dancing with ferrets while Mam and Dad had agreed to a boxing match to establish whose fault it all was.

Just as the first blows were being thrown in anger a bright flash illuminated the room. Out of the light stepped an individual wearing striped shorts pulled halfway up his spherical torso. This clashed dramatically with his brown flavoured suit jacket, shirt and tie. He topped off the astoundingly miss-matched ensemble with a green festive hat. His name was...well I'll let him take it away from here...

GOOSEFAT (dramatic & a little camp):
Goosefat Ricardo's the name and I hear we've gone a bit askew for Christmas..hmmm?

BEAT.

GOOSEFAT:
I said...hmmm?

BEAT.

FAMILY ARE STUNNED.

GOOSEFAT:
Alrighty, let me elaborate. I work right up to Christmas Eve putting right what is currently going wrong. Just think of me as a tubby, Christmas version of Quantum Leap. Tadaa!

DAD:
I've been watching Quantum Leap since I were a lad and you're no Sam Beckett.

GOOSEFAT:
Well of course I'm not Sam Beckett. I've already told you that I'm Goosefat Ricardo!

DAD:
Maybe you should lay off the goosefat. Youre as plump as me prize pig abroad.

GOOSEFAT:
Now, now no need to be cheeky.

PLAYFULLY SMACKS DAD ON THE CHEEKS AND HITS HIM ON THE NOSE WITH A DUSTER.

DAD:
Hey, hey get that out of me face. I'm allergic to the blighters.

GOOSEFAT:
Not to worry we'll keep you well away from that naughty little dust.

MAM:
No, he's allergic to hands.

GOOSEFAT: (EARNESTLY)
Wow, that's weird.

BEAT.

GOOSEFAT:
Anyway, no time to loose, 'tis Christmas Eve! (SINGING TO THE AIR OF A SPOONFUL OF SUGAR FROM MARY POPPINS).

When you have a turkey that's a crow
There is something you must know
You messed up, you are fools
You are two proper tools
A gun with a bullet helps the turkey fall down
Turkey fall down,
Turkey fall down,
A gun with a bullet helps the turkey fall down
In the most delightful way.

With mulled wine another mistake
I should throw you in a lake
You are-

DAD:
Hold on now laddie sonny jim. You come in 'ere with your portly belly and your insults, all the while making an absolute mockery of one of the greatest Sci-Fi shows of the nineties. I won't stand for much more of it. Now can you help us or not?

GOOSEFAT: (SINGING)
I'll put right what went wrong
But I must do it through song-

DAD:
You'd better hurry up cos we're fairly far into it and you haven't even said 'oh boy' yet.

GOOSEFAT: (SINGING)
I've got something up my sleeve
On this bitter Christmas Eve.

DAD:
Out with lad, out with it!

GOOSEFAT: (SINGING)
As you are a total git
You can clean up the squirrel shit.

DAD:
Hold your horses, you said you'd fix Christmas you fat twat! If you're as Quantum Leap as you say you are you can only leap if you put right what's gone wrong so fix the bloomin' tree, fix the bloody wine and the give us a turkey!!

GOOSEFAT (TAKEN ABACK):
Well now...well I never. T-that's thrown me right off kilter altogether. S-sure I'll fix it for you. I've a tree out in the car; there's a couple of bottles of wine in that bag and I have a turkey here in my pants.

MAM:
Thank you Goosefat you have saved our Christmas after all!

KIDS:
God bless us everyone.

DAD:
What are you still doing here? You're not spending Christmas with us. Flash away out of it or are you too fat to flash. Too heavy for physics are ya? (CHUCKLES)

GOOSEFAT:
I just can't understand it. Your crow is gone, your mulled wine would floor a horse and your tree is free of squirrel shit.

DAD.
As the old saying goes; Christmas is for family not fat bastard strangers. Now if you're not going to flash you can just leave through the front door.

MAM:
But the weather outside is frightful and the fire is so delightful.

DAD:
I don't care about any of that.

DAD OPENS THE DOOR TO HOWLING WINDS AND BLIZZARD.

DAD:
Now, off you f**k.

GOOSEFAT (dejected):
I understand.

JUST AS GOOSEFAT TRUDGES OUT THE DOOR HE TURNS AND HITS DAD RAPIDLY AND CONTINUOUSLY ACROSS THE FACE.

DAD (BEING HIT):
Hey, hey, hey, hey!!! I'm allergic!!!

DAD SWINGS AT GOOSEFAT BUT HE DISAPPEARS IN A FLASH OF LIGHT BEFORE DAD CAN MAKE CONTACT.

DAD IS LEFT RED-FACED AND SEETHING.

END.

PHONE RINGS

MAN: Hello, we buy any car .com how can I help you?

SANTA: I was wondering if you could give me a price on my Sleigh tonight?

MAN: Sleigh? I'm sorry but we deal in used cars not...hang on didn't you ring about this time last year?

SANTA: No I don't think I ...

MAN: Yes, I remember it was a clapped out old red sleigh, with really, really high mileage.

SANTA: Ho, Ho, Ho.

MAN: Sorry mate you can't laugh off high mileage. It's a killer to any resale value.

SANTA: Bugger. It won't help that I've just put another six million miles on the clock then.

MAN: Fraid not.

SANTA: The bells all work.

MAN: Not really a big selling point I'm afraid. How fast does it go?

SANTA: Well it doesn't really have a top speed. It sort of bends space time to allow any journey to fit into the time allocated to it.

MAN: Ah, German is it? What are the emission's like?

SANTA: Well from where I sit they can be pretty awful.

MAN: Can I ask you why you are looking to sell your vehicle?

SANTA: Well it's Mrs Claus, she hates taking the Sleigh on errands.

MAN: Not much good for short journeys?

SANTA: No, she popped out to Iceland this morning.

MAN: The country?

SANTA: No, the shop. But she completely overshot Iceland.

MAN: The Shop?

SANTA: No, the country.

MAN: Look you don't want to sell your Sleigh do you?

SANTA: Not really no.

MAN: So how about I put it in writing that there is just no re sale market for Sleighs, that might get Mrs Claus off your back for another year?

SANTA: That sounds just perfect!

MAN: No problem, after all I do want to stay on your nice list.

SANTA: Thank you! I'll keep an eye out for your list young man. And by the way Colin there is no y in Gimp suit.

First blood in 2017 goes to Playfull, a really nice sketch with a good concept, a fart gag, and a proper-arse punchline: perfect.

My vote goes to Playfull, a nice gag and a great ending.

Yeah Playfull takes that one.

Silly, Christmas cracker-y, but definitely in the Christmas spirit. It's Mr. Monkhouse for me.

Playfull again.

Happy New Year all!

Wow, very different offerings making it hard to choose. Frankie's traditional cracker punch line or Patrick's topical joke, Michaels marathon cracker fest or Gappy's high concept idea. Then there is Otterfox's wonderful madcap steam-driven lunacy.
But my vote goes to Carlos just for the original idea of free range 'Xmas trees'.