It’s time for today’s second Song Title Challenge.
After my call last week for some Christmassy songs I got three suggestions. I decided that today, just because it’s almost Christmas, I’m going to treat you with all three. That’s right, three stories based on Christmas-related songs in one day. You’re welcome.
Write a short piece of fiction, around 300 words, using the song title as your story title but don’t listen to the song. You can pick your own genre or use the one suggested to me. Remember to link back to this post so I can find yours.
Today’s second song is Mr. Hankey, the Christmas Poo by South Park. The genre, as suggested by bumblepuppies, is historic fiction. I think he’s trying to bamboozle me, but with a bit of inspiration from the inestimable P.G. Wodehouse I think I managed to pull this off (though I will admit to exceeding the word count a little). Once again I managed to hit fairly close to home as far as concerns the contents of the song. I promise I didn’t listen to it before writing the story.
Oh, and I won’t be posting the hilarious but deeply disturbing song here – some of my relatives read this blog – but you’re welcome to go google it at own risk.
Mr. Hankey, the Christmas Poo
Roderick Algernon Pemberton the Third was distressed. The reason for his distress was Roderick Algernon Pemberton the Fourth, currently staring at him with wide eyes. The lad’s governess had brought him in for his daily presentation to his sire and had briefly stepped out. She was taking an awfully long time to return.
R.A.P. the Third did not have a problem spending time with his son, mind you, but that came later, didn’t it? When he could teach the lad to bowl a yorker, shoot pheasant and run with the hounds. But right now the blighter was good for little more than bouncing on the knee and patting on the head for a few minutes after his bath each evening.
R.A.P. the Third was getting uncomfortable with his heir’s unblinking gaze. Where was that blasted governess? He’d have to instruct the wife to take the woman to task for this gross dereliction of her duties.
He recalled a trick his grandfather, Roderick Algernon Pemberton the First, used to do with a handkerchief that had amused him thoroughly as a boy. Now, if he could only remember how it went…
After a moment’s reflection he pulled his handkerchief from his pocket, glad that he had taken a clean one when he’d dressed for tea earlier. He made a few deft knots and turned to his son.
“Algernon,” he said. “Allow me to introduce you to Mr. Hankey, the Christmas…”
The elder Roderick blinked.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Poo!” obliged the younger.
“And what do you mean by that, sir?”
“Poo!” responded what R.A.P. the Third was quickly coming to regard as a simpleton.
At that moment the governess returned. R.A.P. the Fourth reached for her and repeated the offending syllable.
“Very well done, Algernon,” said the governess with much too much enthusiasm, thought R.A.P. the Third. “Let’s go potty. Toilet training,” she added with a smile before they left.
Roderick Algernon Pemberton the Third sat in silence for a while.
Toilet training, he thought. Whatever will they think of next?
Copyright © 2013 Herman Kok
Check back in a few hours for today’s third and final Song Title Challenge, which will also be my first stab at fan fiction.