By Darryl Mason
What are you doing here? Seriously. What the fuck? It's Christmas Day. You should be drunk and in front the TV. Or at least smiling at relatives as you quietly hum a familiar tune you don't even like, but like a lot right now.
Yeah, I forget that some of you have those phones that are the internet, but smaller, and you're probably in front of the TV right now, drunk as hell.
But surely there's got to be something more fulfilling to do with these precious Christmas Day minutes than to read this stuff?
No?
Okay, well all I got is this series of twoots collected from Twitter last night, about a shocking gun-related early Christmas morning incident.
Heard something on the roof. Sounds like hooves or something. I'm loading the shotgun. I'm going to have a look. Shoot first, questions later.
Oh God, I think I just did something terrible. In the dark, the bell the old fat white-bearded bloke was holding looked just like a pistol.
The old bloke fell off the roof when I shot him. He's flopping around on the lawn. He's wearing red, so I can't tell if he's bleeding.
There's a whole load of frigging reindeer on my roof. I'm reloading. One of them looks pissed. His nose is glowing bright red. Taking aim.
Took out two of the reindeer on my roof with one shell. Good eating. After butchering I can fit maybe five carcasses in the deep freeze.
If I'd known they were flying reindeer I wouldn't have shot 'em so fast. They'd be damn handy, better than a jetpack. Killed 4, rest flew away.
The old bloke I blew off my roof just croaked "R...uuudolph!" and that rednose deer crawled over to him. I thought it was dead. Tough deer.
If I am right, I can do em both with one cartridge. Seems to be a lot of crying, shrieking, screaming kids here now. Sirens coming closer.
Yeah, bit of a bad scene. Kids and parents are hysterical. They all seem to know who this white bearded dying bloke is. I can't finish him now. Dammit.
I've had to barricade myself inside my house. Screaming kids are trying to smash the windows. I left the deer carcasses on the lawn. Dammit.
Jeez, they got a cop on a speaker. They're saying this is a siege, and "You Shot Santo Claws, You Fuck!". I was defending my property.
That Santo Claws bloke wasn't as bad off as I thought. He just tried to kick in the front door. Cops told him to stop. He didn't. He got tasered
Police negotiator says he understands my plight, says I was in my right to blow that old fuck off my roof, but he still has to arrest me.
I said yes to a lawyer who offered representation after winching down from a TV news helicopter. Seven figure TV, book & movie deal on the cards. Coming out now.
Lawyer said I might have to do two months, then I'd be out and set. That Santo Claws fucker who landed reindeer on my roof is okay.
Apparently, I am "The Stupid Fuck Who Ruined Christmas!" according to the newspaper front pages around the world today.
I don't remember ever hearing about this Santo Claws bloke, and his very hard to believe story of delivering presents to kids, worldwide.
Lawyer says his name is actually 'Santa Claus' and is beloved by children across the world. Says I have to start saying "Merry Christmas." It's part of the plea deal. So ditto that. I still don't get it.
Mel Gibson's playing me in the movie. It's called I Shot Santa. Jack Thompson is playing the old fat bloke in red I blew off my roof. They got cool robot deer.
This Santa Claus fucker is suing the studio making our movie. He says the title, I Shot Santa, violates his trademark. I don't get paid until 1st day of production.
I may have to shoot him again.
Merry Christmas.
.
