How Paul Schiernecker Ruined Christmas

The following is taken from my reading at Old Trunk’s Winter Tales & Ales event, and it is mostly factual:

Twas Christmas day in the Schiernecker home
But Paul was busy texting on his mobile phone
You see while the turkey was to be roasting
He wanted to be in the pub raising a toasting
There was a girl going he wanted to impress
In the hopes he could crawl inside of her dress
Mother Schiernecker agreed he could go until three
But then he was to return to the family
Because that’s what Christmas is really for
Not spilling your beans up inside some whore
“Mother please” he yelled from the door
Throwing a coat over his shoulders, shuffling on the floor
And heading out into the snow
At last to the pub he could go
Now I should take a moment to explain
This pub was a link in a national chain
But for legal reasons I cannot say
It was a Wetherspoons anyway
So eventually Paul Schiernecker got to the bar
To find his share of takings in the tip jar
He’d been working there sporadically
When he was home from Uni and needed the money
But it didn’t matter how much time he put in
His wages always ended up behind the bar again
So he had a double whiskey to get things going
Followed by several pints to keep himself flowing
And he thought he was being entertaining
Regaling the punters with tales of his flailing
And slurring false promises into the ear
Of the girl he lusted for who amazingly still stayed quite near
And didn’t run for the fire exit although it must be stated
They were exceedingly well illuminated
It was only when covered in Tequila, lemon and salt
He realised his own time keeping fault
Because while he had been trying to woo
It had already struck half past two
And he had a thirty minute walk to find
And that was if he could make it in a straight line
Which isn’t an easy task you see
When you’re up to your eyeballs in whiskey
When he made it home Mummy could really tell
Because his eyes were lit up like the fires of hell
And he couldn’t really articulate
How he could possibly be late on such an important date
So he attempted to sit at the dining table
Instantly regretting the Johnny Walker Black Label
He had imbibed trying to seem sophisticated
And to convince the girl they should have dated
A starter was presented that made him feel pale
Avocado halves drenched in prawn cocktail
Because even with so many options of food
It’s fun to have a first course from 1972
But of course the last thing Paul really needed
Was the pink and green he was about to be feeded
So he abandoned the festivities to kneel
In front of the porcelain and to God he appealed
“Oh what was I thinking, I was showing off
Thinking I could handle the mixed drinks that I coiffed”
So he abandoned Christmas dinner and headed to his room
To nuzzle in blankets and find a pillow to spoon
Mother Schiernecker was really pissed off
“Paul Schiernecker ruined Christmas” she scoffed
Before sitting with her unusually well behaved offspring
Who couldn’t compete with the madness Paul was offering
Despite their abilities to break hearts and bone
They were perfectly docile, they were far too stoned
Several hours later with a bad head
Paul awoke in the glow of TV on his bed
Still dressed in his jeans and Christmas jumper
He said “Jesus, this headache is a thumper”
But of course Jesus could not call
Partly because it was his birthday but mostly because he’s fictional
So Paul looked up at the television
Feeling more cut up than a circumcision
To see Pauline Fowler collapse in the snow
“First Arthur now this, how low can they go
Mark drove off into the sunset on his bike made of AIDS
And Martin smashed in Sonia’s barricades
I give up on soap operas, I live my life for me”
And he went downstairs to apologise to Mummy