Sorry I've not been round for a bit, but I do like to enter these Christmas competitions. I hope it's not too long, boring, unseasonal, and has a little humour in it...
Dennis awoke with the familiar weight upon his ankles, bulky but not very heavy. The fort was silent apart from a quiet shuffling sound that was coming from the study down the hall.
“Father Christmas..!” He said, in an urgent whisper. He shot out of his bed quicker than he had ever got up before, glancing only at the clock on the wall as he raced out of his room. 5.30am.
Quietly, he tiptoed into the study, which was ablaze with colour due to the amazing decorations that had been put up this year. In the fireplace a huge log fire roared. And, standing, or rather, leaning, by the Christmas Tree in the corner was a familiar figure in red.
Father Christmas turned around to face Dennis.
“Ho! Ho! Ho!” he bellowed, surprising Dennis who quickly brought his fingers to his lips and shushed Father Christmas before he even realised what he was doing.
Dennis waved quickly and pretended he had sneezed.
“Hello, Father Christmas,” Dennis was very excited now. “Have you brought me my bicycle this year?”
“Ho! Ho! Ho!” laughed Father Christmas, and he held out his hand, gesturing Dennis to come closer to him. Dennis noticed with awe a small square parcel, festively decorated in red and green magically appear in the palm of Father Christmas’ mitten.
Dennis trotted over gleefully and snatched the parcel out of Father Christmas’ hand, although he was thinking “This doesn’t look much like a bicycle to me.”
“Ho! Ho! Ho!” boomed Father Christmas, this time inside Dennis’ head. “Open it and see”
Dennis flipped the lid on the parcel and he was sprayed full in the face with a strange silver and gold powder. He blinked to remove the glitter from his eyes, and noticed the room around him had become sepia in colour. In front of him, where Father Christmas had been stood, was now a bicycle. A Penny-farthing in fact...
Luckily for Dennis, there were also stabilisers on the small back wheel, and it took him six attempts to get onto the seat. Once he managed this, he wobbled out of the study, along the corridor, out through the door, and outside, into the street (which was also sepia coloured, but also covered in snow).
“That’s odd...” thought Dennis, but he continued riding never-the-less. This side of the fort had been transformed into a Dickensian street, with people who were dressed as though they had just stepped out of an olde worlde greeting card. They’d walk by and nod at Dennis, or say a cheery “Merry Christmas!” A choir was singing the Twelve Days of Christmas at the end of the road. No, Dennis realised. It wasn’t a choir. It was only the biggest rock band of all time, the group he’d been saving for years to see. Po Beep and the Fortunes.
Dennis was on his Penny-farthing and beside himself at the same time!
Suddenly, the lead singer of the group spotted him, and called him over.
“Dennis!” waved Po. “Come and join us! We need another member to join our merry band!”
“Me” trilled Dennis. He noticed the crowds all gathering around. He noticed them all cheering, waving, and seemingly coming in from miles around. Beaming, he Penny-farthed over to the band and wobbled. He fell. He landed on top of the drummer, Noge. Noge was a beast of a drummer, but he looked very small beneath Dennis. Noge was also stuck inside his drum, and couldn’t move.
“Sorry” Dennis said sheepishly. As he stood up, he found he’d had his arm caught up in a cable. He tugged firmly, and heard a crackle, followed by a yell. He followed the cable to the electric guitar, and the smoking figure of its strummer, General Esk-Ah Go. The General’s face blackened with the electric shock, and reddened with anger, was not a good look.
“Oops” Dennis realised he was making a hash of the whole thing. He looked up, and saw the fourth member of the band, Sane Pierre, running off over the hills in the distance, taking his triangle with him.
“Ah” Dennis was now flustered. His Penny-farthing was buckled. The band was broken, and the crowd were now baying.
“Dennis!” Shouted Po Beep. “You must now sing with us, before things get any uglier!”
“I can’t sing” Dennis moaned.
“Sing!” shouted Po.
“Sing!” shouted Esk-Ah Go.
“Sing” ordered a voice from the crowd. Dennis looked over and saw a vision of beauty before his eyes. A certain someone of the Seven Veils...
He grabbed the microphone, and warbled a sound that words would never describe.
The crowd went wild. Foaming at the mouths, they picked up whatever they could find to throw at the band. Missiles were everywhere. Dennis looked around to see that the band had disappeared, and left him all alone. He kicked his leg out to run away himself.
A Brussels Sprout hit him squarely on the forehead.
He blinked.
He was in his room. The gift that Beau had left at the foot of his bed was now all over the room, scattered by the force of Dennis’ kick. Brussels Sprouts were all around his head, on the pillow, over the floor and even in the bed.
He saw Beau standing in the doorway.
“Merry Christmas, Dennis!” He boomed with all the festive spirit he could muster. “Come to the canteen... there’s a parcel waiting for you!”
“No, thanks,” Grumbled Dennis, “I’ve gone off the idea of owning a bike now” He turned over, and drifted back to sleep.
