Fluffy Ratbag’s Guide To Christmas
Greetings fellow felines and welcome to this, the Fluffy Ratbag Guide To Christmas. As a Worl’ Famous literary cat I have received many questions from my fan askin’ about the traditions and customs of this strange human festival. So, after working my paws to the bone, doin’ research on Wikipawdia and Gurgle, I have found answers which I hope will enlighten and entertain and help you to make the most of this festive season.
Christmas
Is held in the middle of the winter unless you are an upside-down cat from the other side of the worl’ in which case everything is back to front and it is held on the beach.
Wherever you are, Christmas is held to celebrate the birth of the baby cheeses a long time ago that were born in a manger whatever one of them is. It seems that there was no room at the Inn so the baby cheeses were born in a stable along with donkeys, sheep, an oxen, various random shepherds, some passin’ wise men and a lady called Mary-Anne Joseph.
Which all sounds a bit bloody unsanitary if you ask me. Anyway, once all this lot had managed to cram themselves into said stable then the baby cheeses was born to Mary-Anne Joseph seemingly in full view of this lot gawpin’ away, honestly is there no privacy these days? At which point there was great rejoicin’ apparently and peas on earth.
From the above it seems that Christmas is thus a time for vegetarians and agoraphobic voyeurs with a cheddar fixation. Takes all sorts I s’pose.
Christmas Decorations
Is the most extreme form of cruelty to cats that there is. No, really. They have a big box which lives in the hole in the ceiling at the top of the stairs and the Skinny Man will go up and bang his head and swear a lot to go and get it. In this box there are all sorts of dangly, spangly things. Honestly, it’s like Liberace’s underwear drawer. And what do they do with all this glittery stuff? Do they let you play with it? Do they ellaslike. They put it up all around the house pinned to the ceiling and then laugh as you go demented trying to get at it. It all hangs from the ceiling and stuff and it swings and sways and glitters and you just can’t get it no matter how you jump.
Evil gits.
Still, you will get your own back when the tree appears. Revenge is a dish best eaten cold.
From the top of a Christmas tree.
Santa Claws
Is a fat man with a beard who climbs down chimneys into people’s houses in the middle of the night, drinks a glass of sherry and leaves presents.
Yeah right. ‘Course he does. From where I’m sat that just sounds like the case for the defence m’lud and the main reason said beardy bloke has a sack full of DVD players to give away is on account of he’s already turned over the rest of the street beforehand.
Anyway, in addition to the beard and belly, Santa wears a red suit and goes ho-ho-ho a lot which frankly sounds unlikely. Personally, I reckon he only comes out at Christmas because he spends eleven months of the year in the nick wearin’ a prison boiler suit and playing hunt the present with his cellmate if you catch my drift. You mark my words, if there’s ever a Christmas when you don’t get any pressies then I bet it’s because the parole board turned Santa down for early release.
Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer
Has been ‘dashing through the snow’ a bit too much to get himself a schnoz like that if you take my meanin’. No bloody wonder he flies.
The Christmas Tree
It is at this time of year that the Skinny Man will huff and puff and generally get a bit narky as he struggles indoors with a 75-foot pine tree which he will stick into a bucket and shove in a corner of the room in such a way that he and the Noisy Woman have to squeeze round it to get to the tellphone, the door, the settee – pretty much anywhere in fact.
Leaving aside the total stupidity of bringing the outdoors indoors in this fashion, they then proceed to decorate ol’ Treebeard with all the shiny stuff from Liberace’s undies drawer that they couldn’t fit on the walls. The crowning moment is when they shove the top of the tree up some poor fairy’s backside which must bring tears to her eyes I can tell you. Them pine needles is sharp.
Anyway, the end result of all this palaver is meant to look like the pictures on the Christmas cards of rosy cheeked children gasping in astonishment at the sight of an elegant Christmas tree whose boughs are laden down with gifts and novelties and tinsel and such.
Instead of which, my two humans end up with a big pile of pine needles on the floor beneath a sad-looking stick that’s been covered in glitter and baubles and shoved lopsided into a bucket with a cross-eyed fairy on the top.
Anyway, once this is done then the tree officially becomes Fluffy Ratbag’s Stairway To The Stars. Or Glitter, or Streamer or whatever other dangly thing can be reached from its top branches. Ideally, the Climbing of the Tree is an activity best done at night when the Skinny Man and Noisy Woman are in bed and the house is quiet. Revenge, as I mentioned before, is a dish best eaten cold.
Just after they’ve fallen asleep.
Turkey
Is proof if it was needed of how cruel humans can be. I mean, Tommy the Turkey wasn’t exactly at the front of the queue when the good looks were handed out and most of them look like they’ve had a couple of good hard whacks with the ugly stick anyway. Honestly, it has to be hard enough going through life with a head and neck that looks like the thing that lives in the Skinny Man’s pants but that’s nothing to what they do with the poor bugger next. I’m not normally squeamish but when I saw where the Noisy Woman put the sage and onion I nearly called the authorities.
Christmas Dinner
Is what they end up with when the Noisy Woman has finished the autopsy on the Turkey, disembowelled the Brussels sprouts, smashed the spuds to bits, retrieved the stuffing from the Last Place You’d Think To Look For Something To Eat (viz a turkey’s backside) and generally caused the kitchen to look like it’s been rented for a fortnight by the Hordes of Genghis Wotsisname.
It is entertaining to wait until the table has been set and their attention is distracted by a calamity in the kitchen of some sort and then jump up on the table to give everything a good sniff. Their reaction when they spot you there will be brilliant and is almost worth being chucked outside for. The good thing is knowing that all the while they are eating their dinner they are wonderin’ whether all you did was sniff at it or whether they are eatin’ somethin’ that Fluffy Ratbag has dribbled on.
They can never know for sure.
Christmas Crackers
It is traditional to have crackers with Christmas Dinner which are like the insides of toilet rolls with little bangy things inside that the humans tug at till they pop and come in bits. Inside each cracker is a paper hat which it is traditional to put on Fluffy Ratbag’s head and take pictures of and laugh at.
Twats.
A suitable response is to wait till bedtime and then vomit in the Skinny Man’s new slippers. Let’s see him laugh with a foot full of cold sick. Serves him right for chopping my wossnames off. Not that I am bitter or anything.
Mulled Wine
Is hot red stuff in a glass that is a bugger to get out of the carpet, as it turns out. It is not a good idea to knock the Skinny Man’s off the coffee table unless you really want to go outside in the pouring rain. Look, it was an accident, okay?
Christmas Carols
Are songs which are only played at Christmas and which, come January, you know why ‘cos they drive you up the bloody wall quite frankly. Especially ‘Away In A Manger’ which is rank as it is the only song ever written specifically for Recorder and Five-Year Old Nephew in the Key of Ouch.
Christmas Presents
These are things that the Noisy Woman and Skinny Man buy and then wrap up in shiny paper which crackles and rustles when you jump on it. The Noisy Woman particularly likes it when I help her to wrap the presents although she can be a bit free with the sellotape which can lead to hair loss if you’re not careful.
Once wrapped, said presents are put by the stick-in-a-bucket and can then be played with and hidden amongst. I am guessing that the big present that smells of catnip is for me so I have had to nip out at the last minute to get the Noisy Woman and Skinny Man a present in return. It is half a mouse and I hope they like it.
Carol Singers
Are two fourteen-year old youths who bang on the door and demand money in return for one chorus and half a verse of ‘Once In Royal David’s City’ before collapsing in giggles and getting all shy.
It is never said outright but these being the scrot-bags who run the Trick or Treat protection racket at Halloween, there is a direct link between the amount of money the Skinny Man gives them to go away and the chances of someone subsequently weeing through the letter box.
The Christmas Spirit
Is what the Skinny Man and Noisy Woman drink too much of over the festive season and which always leads to them bouncing on each other in a frankly disturbing fashion.
I wish they would get a bloody room.
Gold, Frankincense and Myrrh
Are what the Three Wise Men (who travelled together and spent ages following a Star – a bit like early paparazzi from the sound of it) gave to the baby cheeses as presents. I have no idea what Gold, Frankincense and Myrrh is but it sounds a bit of a naff present. You have to hope that they kept hold of the receipt. From my perspective, if you can’t eat it, shag it or sleep on it then you might as well take it back and change it for 'nip.
So that is it for this festive edition of the Fluffy Ratbag Guide For Cats. I hope that it helps you understand that this is a difficult and stressful time for humans and as such it is only right that we help them as much as possible with those million and one little jobs that need doin’. And remember, when they discover you sat in the wreckage of a fallen-over stick-in-a-bucket or with your head inside the turkey trying to find out what happened to the sage and onion, that a loud purr and grovelling displays of affection can do much to turn aside anger and stop you spending Christmas outside on a cold window sill peering in at the festivities inside.
I wish you all – and your humans – a very Merry Christmas and may you have health, happiness and catnip for the coming year.
Your Friend, Fluffy Ratbag
