A Christmas Turnip for the Book, Stanza Three

The clock chimed three and The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come appeared.

“Won’t be a moment,” Mariagarita said, “I’m just sorting out a few customer complaints about my pizzas.”

Mariagarita finished copying and pasting the 500 email addresses of the complainants and then typed her well composed and diplomatic reply: “FOOK OFF YOU PAUPERS OR I’LL SHOOT YOU WITH MY 12 BORE!”

She pressed the send button, pleased with her night’s work. Threatening to shoot people with her 12 bore was a well-used tactic by Mariagarita. It made her feel powerful, like the Dominos Matrix she was. Feared and revered because of her big gun.

“Ready!” she said, standing up. The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come winced. Mariagarita was still wearing her polyester flight socks but had now hoisted them up and attached them to her suspender belt. Her 15 inch high heels and Hello Kitty handbag completed her killer look.

Taking her hand, The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come flew Mariagarita out the window. Together, they soared high above the village.

“Where are we going this time?” Mariagarita asked. “Can we call in at Whinny Mouse’s? She might have got me an expensive Christmas present.”

The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come nodded. “Yes,” Mariagarita, “we will go there now,” and with that, The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come swooped down to land outside Whinny Mouse’s coven.

The door was open. The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come and Mariagarita entered. Descending the staircase was Whinny Mouse dressed in a wedding dress and veil. An old wedding dress and veil, yellowing and decaying. She only wore one shoe.

The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come pointed out the various clocks to Mariagarita. “Look,” he whispered, they have all stopped at exactly the same time, twenty minutes to nine.”

Mariagarita peered at the clocks. “Why?” she asked.

“Because that is the time that Whinny Mouse was jilted,” explained The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come.

“Jilted? By who?” asked Mariagarita.

“By her imaginary boyfriend,” explained The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come. “He sent her a letter on their wedding day and said he couldn’t go through with it.”

“Come,” said The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come, “I have something to show you.”

The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come led Mariagarita into Whinny Mouse’s large dining room. There, on a huge banqueting table was laid out a huge feast. It was mouldy and rotten but MerryManOfPots was in his element. He stuffed large amounts of wedding cake into his mouth. A mouse ran out of the cake just in time to stop itself from being eaten.

Whinny Mouse stood on the middle stair, looked upwards, stretched out her arms and began to sing:

“Near, Far,
wherever you are,
I believe that the heart does go OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON!”

Mariagarita and The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come left hurriedly as Whinny Mouse reached an ear shattering crescendo.

As they flew high above the snow topped roofs, Mariagarita spied a light on in a small, knitted cottage.

Visible through a white, net curtain was the silhouette of an elderly lady knitting and rocking manically back and forth in her trusty chair. The cackle of a hideous, demonic laugh could be heard and which echoed loudly throughout the universe.

“What is that?” Mariagarita asked?

“It’s Annette Curtain, Mariagarita,” explained The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come.

“Why is she laughing like that?” Mariagarita asked.

“Come,” said The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come, “I will show you.”

As they entered Annette’s abode, there in front of them was an horrendous sight! It was Tin Dice. Kneeling upon the floor, his head was secured fast in a wooden block. His Burger King Crown lay uneasy upon his head. High above him was a sharp, metal blade that, even in the dark of Annette’s lounge, glinted menacingly.

“A guillotine!” exclaimed Mariagarita.

“Yes,” said The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come, “Annette’s mother knitted by the guillotine as the King of France had his head chopped off. The King of JC will face the same fate unless he mends his ways.”

Mariagarita was horrified! Not her Tin Man! Then she quickly checked the JC F3 Boards.

“When will the blade fall?” Mariagarita asked The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come.

“In two hours,” replied The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come. “Why do you ask?”

“Because Annette hasn’t flounced today,” Mariagarita explained. “She will be sure to flounce , vowing never to return, long before the axe is due to fall.”

They left as Tin Dice tried to explain to Annette Curtain that it was all banter. Annette wasn’t listening. She was laughing too much as she knitted a basket for the severed head.

“Come, Mariagarita,” replied The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come, “we have two more stops to go.”

They were flying again. They left the village and headed towards a field behind Mariagarita’s Dominos Pizza Factory. In the field was an ancient caravan with no wheels, no roof and no door.

Inside, on a urine stained mattress, lay Bob Scratchitt his old, twisted body shivering in the cold.

“It’s Bob!” Mariagarita exclaimed! “Why is he here in this field? What happened to his bedsit?”
“Bob downsized when he became alone and unemployed, Mariagarita,” explained The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come.

“Alone?” Mariagarita asked.

“Yes, Tiny Neil died and Pandaora left,” explained The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come.

“What took Tiny Neil?” Mariagarita asked.

“Obesity and inflation,” replied The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come.

“And Pandaora, his Chai bride?”

“She left to go to Edinburgh. She now has a successful cage career,” replied The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come.

“Why hasn’t Bob got a job anymore?” Mariagarita asked. “Did I sack him?”

The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come shook his head. “No, Mariagarita, you didn’t. Come I will show you on our final stop tonight.”

And once more, they were flying again. They flew towards the village Church landing at the entrance to the graveyard.

“Why are we here?” Mariagarita asked.

The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come slowly raised his hand and pointed. Mariagarita looked in the direction of where he had pointed and walked towards a large Dominos pizza box, sticking up haphazardly from the ground. Mariagarita read the scrawled, partially handwritten inscription out loud:

“Here lies Mariagarita Pizza.
The Ultimate Dominos Matrix.
Delivered Hot and on Time
Or Your Money Back!
R.I.P”

Livid, Mariagarita stepped forward and taking a pen from her back she crossed out the “Or Your Money Back!” part of the inscription.

Still not satisfied, she amended it once again so it now read:

“Here lies Mariagarita Pizza.
The Ultimate Dominos Matrix.
Delivered Hot and on Time
R.I.P. E”

“Mariagarita,” explained The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come, “you must change your ways. Now come, I will take you home. The Christmas morn will soon dawn.”
And with that, The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come flew Mariagarita back to her mansion.