Wednesday, 24 December 2008

The Grouch. (A Christmas Tale)

High up in the Northumbrian hills in an Eyre on Bizzle Crag something moved amongst the bones and pile of furs, a wizened hairy face peered out into the morning gloom, it was the creature known as the Grouch.
He whirled his telescope, that had once been state of the art, on the tripod and focused it on the ripple of lights far in the distance on the village of LongWHOton. There he knew lived the Tuwhoos, a happy go lucky people who lived their lives simply, feeding the birds and caring for the animals.
Once he too had been a Tuwhoo, long ago when all the world was young, even Mclevy Tuwhoo oldest and wisest of all the Tuwhoo clan. The Grouch remembered a time when he was little and he too fed and watched over the birds before he had wandered off into the wilderness.
It was close to Christmas and The Grouch hated Christmas, every year he watched as the Tuwhoos had a great feast sat round a big table full of food provided by the mayor CadwallenWHO and the mayoress Lady MuWho.
Suddenly the Grouch heard a noise below his Eyre, he looked down into the misty moor and saw three figures approaching, three Whos. The Grouch looked through his lens and blinked, "it couldn't be" he thought, he blinked again.
He grabbed the scope and swung the zoom lens to 60x to look closer, sure enough it was SteWho from BWhoulmer with his wife and dog Buntwho. He watched green with envy as they took photos of the mosses and lichens and sat down to eat a Ploughman's whilst Stewho sketched a drumming Snipe with his left hand.
He remembered Stewho from Art Schwool, he had always made it look so easy, his birds so lifelike, his sketches sublime. The Grouch grew green with envy, so green he looked like his cousin The Grinch.
There and then he decided, enough was enough, he would make all those Tuwhoos pay this year, especially that uber-talented artmeister Tuwho Stewho.
The following night, Christmas Eve, he sneaked out from his eyrie and crept across the fields to LongWHoton. Just as he was about to enter the village hall from nowhere he heard a nasal twang "Mmmm seen anything?" the voice called out the traditional greeting of the Tuwhos.
The Grouch, coughed and replied "No" and hurried on.
He crept into the village hall where they had all being celebrating the start of Christmas. There as all the Tuwhoos lay asleep he began to collect the presents and place them inside a large bag. One by one he lifted all the copies of Whos Who into the bag, then the Swarvoskwho telescopes and finally the new leather bound notebWhooks.
Just as he was about to leave, he heard a growl, the Grouch turned slowly and facing him was BuntWho the little BWhorder terrier. The Grouch backed away and in doing so tripped over the outstretched leg of one of the sleeping Tuwhos, a strange looking plump one with a dirty T-shirt that proclaimed "Druridge PWHools Warden". As he fell back the bag flipped into the air and all the presents tumbled out, thankfully none of them broken. The noise woke the Tuwhoos, they all looked at The Grouch, he became afraid, "What would they say? what would they do?" his mind raced. It was SteWho that stepped forward and offered his hand,
"Welcome back TilmWhouth" he said offering an outstretched hand.
The Grouch looked around, and all the faces on the Tuwhoos were smiling, he too smiled, he felt at home.

1 comment:

st said...

Fact or fiction?
all the best.