Chaos At Christmas – Episode 30
Chaos At Christmas by Ewan Smith
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- 1. Chaos At Christmas – Episode 30
“There’s the she-devil who seeks to rip the very soul from my body!”
All eyes in the room turned to Ferelith with outrage. She felt herself blushing and stammering, “No…but…it wasn’t…I didn’t…”
However, Myrmalette didn’t have the slightest interest in what Ferelith had to say. There was only one star in this drama. Striding over to the desk, she fixed Ferelith with a fearful glare. Waiting for a moment to let the cameras catch up, she then let rip. “This woman, this fiend in a human form, has taken my tiny precious heart in her hands and has shredded it to pieces before the entire world” she began and she took it from there.
If it wasn’t for the fact that the torrent of fury was directed at her, Ferelith would have been impressed. Myrmalette C. Mee wasn’t the most subtle of actresses but she knew how to deliver a line. As her voice rose and fell, surged and whirled, the hall seemed to overflow with the crashing waves of her emotions. It occurred to Ferelith at some point that the words had clearly been written for her and they were certainly well rehearsed. However, the performance was none the less powerful for that.
Has there ever existed such a demon?
Myrmalette cried out in anguish to the ceiling. “This monstrous horror who would rend apart two innocent souls and destroy their whole lives with her vile wiles?” It went on and on with no one in the hall daring to interrupt. Ferelith was left feeling like some disgusting bug which had just been discovered in a picnic hamper, spoiling everyone’s fun. Then she caught sight of Geraint. He was transfixed by Myrmalette’s words, his face pale with shock. To her horror, Ferelith realised that he had been taken in by her. He believed in what she was saying.
“NOOOOOO!!!!” she wanted to cry to him across the hall (perhaps clutching her heart pitifully with both hands as Myrmalette might do.)
It’s all nonsense, Geraint. Nothing happened!
But she couldn’t manage it. Like everyone else, she was stunned into awed silence by the sheer power of Myrmalette’s presence.
Then, all at once, there was a kerfuffle at the other side of the hall. DJ Klaws had appeared surrounded by his own cameras. Turning and spotting him, Myrmalette uttered a shriek which made everyone in the hall wince. Clutching a hand to her forehead, she cried out “Betrayed!” in a despairing voice and sank elegantly to the floor.
Ferelith was beginning to understand how things worked in the world of reality TV so she wasn’t entirely surprised when DJ Klaws then uttered his own cry of despair. He rushed over to Myrmalette and threw himself to his knees beside her. He took her in his arms in a way that kept her lovely profile visible and proceeded with his own speech. He cried out tearfully to the heavens that he should be given one last chance and promised that, if she forgave him, he would be faithful to her for ever.
As the speech came to an end, Myrmalette slowly woke from her faint. “Where is this place?” she called, looking around in unconvincing confusion. She produced a tiny lace handkerchief from somewhere to dab gracefully at her dry eyes and DJ Klaws kissed the back of her hand fervently and raised her to her feet.
But then he sank dramatically back down to his knees and produced from his pocket the chunkiest diamond ring Ferelith had ever seen. Her immediate thought was that washing the dishes would be tricky with something like that on your finger, though it occurred to her that possibly Myrmalette didn’t do the dishes very often. DJ Klaws threw his arms into the air, holding on tightly to the ring.
“Myrmalette, will you do me the greatest honour in my life and become my wife?” he said. Myrmalette uttered another, even louder, shriek and fainted again but not before DJ Klaws had caught her in her arms as she had cried out, “Yes, my darling, yes!” And as it turned out, she recovered quickly enough to watch in satisfaction as the ring was being put on her finger and to give her eyes a few more unnecessary dabs.
The rest passed in a blur. Encouraged by one of Myrmalette’s minions, the watching guests burst into enthusiastic applause as the engaged couple made their way outside. They were met by a tornado of exploding fireworks and popping champagne corks before leaving in a huge helicopter trailing vast plumes of pink and blue smoke.
Ferelith gazed after it, her mouth sagging. “What just happened?” she muttered. It felt as if she was waking up out of some mad dream. Then a thought came rushing into her head. “Geraint!” she gasped. She hurriedly turned. But he was walking off across the lawn, his shoulders slumped in misery.
The music stopped suddenly. Wild cheers of excitement rose up as the two women raced across the ballroom. One made a desperate dive but slipped and fell spread-eagled across the chair. The other plumped down on top of her and raised her hands in victory.
Ferelith looked on in disbelief as the two of them in their elegant party dresses began to wrestle. She had never seen a game of Musical Chairs like it. They were shrieking with laughter, arms and legs going everywhere like a mad, writhing octopus as they struggled to gain control of the chair. A look of panic had fallen over the Party-Meister’s face.
He rushed forward, microphone in hand, and hurriedly inserted himself between the battling contestants.
I think we have TWO winners, folks,
he announced to the cheering crowd. “Let’s have a huge round of applause as we give star prizes to both Sheila and Charmaine!”
The cheers redoubled as two bottles of champagne were produced from somewhere. Untangling themselves, the contestants returned to their tables arm-in-arm, walking rather unsteadily but both well pleased with the result of the game.
The Party-Meister held up a hand and the noise lessened a little. “Now, if my hard-working helpers could clear the chairs from the floor, we’ll have a Christmas Hokey-Cokey in just a minute.” Ferelith and two other members of staff hurriedly moved forward and got to work. “Remember, children, our Pin-The-Tail-On-The-Reindeer competition is still under way.
There’s a delicious Christmas dainty for every entrant and a state-of-the-art game console for the winner. And gentlemen, we’re also looking for more contestants for our Guess-The-Christmas-Knobbly-Knees contest later to be compered by our wonderful host, Mr Lyle Cranford!”
A deafening round of applause reverberated round the room and Lyle stood up for a moment, waving his hands and smiling.
It had been a brilliant Christmas Eve party, Ferelith had to admit that. Not that she had been in a mood for it. All she wanted was to be able to explain to Geraint that nothing had happened between her and DJ Klaws. But his imagination had clearly got to work after he saw the two of them on the balcony. Then Myrmalette’s mad accusations about her had only made the situation worse.
