Peter the Rude Christmas Pudding

Peter was not a very nice Christmas pudding.

Throughout Christmas morning he was rude to all of his friends in the kitchen.

He laughed as Charles, Chester, Charlotte and Carly the carrots were sliced and diced and skinned and thinned.

He chuckled childishly as Sally, Sean, Susan, Sid, Simon and Samantha the sprouts were forked and sheared and frazzled and shrivelled.

He shouted “see ya later, tater!” as Peter, Paul, Penny, Patrick and Pippa the potatoes were prodded and peeled and boiled and burnt.

He cackled with delight as Terry the turkey was roughed and stuffed and cooked and cut.

And he giggled with glee as Gwyneth the gravy was mixed and whisked with piping hot water and thrown over all of the food.

Once all of the food was placed on plates and taken through to the humans in the dining room, Peter’s eyes went wide with excitement.

“I wouldn’t get too excited,” warned Wendy the wine. “It’ll be your turn ne-”

“Sssssh!” said Peter. “I want to hear them get gobbled!”

Wendy tutted and watched Peter dance about to the sound of their friends being eaten.

“Right then,” said the mother human, carrying the now empty plates to the kitchen. “Time to prepare the pudding for when our dinner’s gone down!”

Peter looked at Wendy. “What…what’s for pudding?” he gulped before the mother human scooped him up, slammed him in a pan and then shoved him on the hob to be steamed for two hours!

Peter began to sweat in the heat and worried about his future.

Before he knew it, he was spluttering and spitting as funny smelling liquid was poured all over him.

He looked at Wendy with tears in his eyes and then the mother human lit a match and set Peter on fire!

Once the flames had fizzled away, Peter was chopped in to lots and lots of slices and given to every human.

The father human had the biggest slice and started chewing him up with his munching molars.

Peter began to scream as he slid through the father’s mouth and down his throat.

“Help me Wendy!” he squealed and then PLOP; he landed in the father human’s belly.

It was a dark and strange place, the father human’s belly. It growled and moaned and wobbled and bobbled.

Peter didn’t like it.

He just sat in a particularly smelly corner and cried and cried. He thought about how he didn’t like to be alone and wished he could see his friends again.

All of a sudden he heard a cough from the other side of the belly and then a soft voice said: “Peter, is that you?”

Peter stayed quiet, scared of what creature may be inside the scary place.

And then a different voice said: “Peter, it’s us!”

To Peter’s delight he realised the voices were coming from pieces of all of his friends!

There was chunks of Charles, Chester, Charlotte and Carly the carrots, sections of Sally, Sean, Susan, Sid, Simon and Samantha the sprouts, parts of Peter, Paul, Penny, Patrick and Pippa the potatoes, thin bits of Terry the turkey and globs of Gwyneth the gravy.

Each one ran over to Peter and gave him a humongous hug. “It’s so good to see you!” said Penny the potato.

“Yeah, we missed you,” smiled Gwyneth the gravy.

Peter wiped a tear from his eye. “But, I was so mean to you,” he said.

“You’re part of the family,” said Terry the turkey. “And Christmas is all about being with the ones you love.”

Peter smiled and told his friends he was sorry and that he loved them so much.

Then all of a sudden Wendy the wine came sloshing down and splashed all over them!

They laughed as they heard the father human burp and then spent the rest of Christmas day being best friends again.

© Carl Burkitt 2013

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