The McHallmark Christmas Movie

 

This is Christmas right here!

Everybody seems to be getting their Christmas panic in early. Nobody knows what’s going on. Nobody knows what’s happening at Christmas.  The world is now aware of the word omnicron. 

And worst of all there’s going to be a national crisp shortage. 

Not these, which are chips.

                                          

I’m talking about these, which are crisps.

                                                    

But that festive gentle sense of silliness is in the air. I think most people are hoping for some kind of lockdown over Christmas so that they can avoid the relatives that they can’t stand. It was quite a success last year.  

What were the rules back then ? I think it was six people  from two households that shared 75% of their DNA,  no more than three surnames  in one room with the windows open. Anybody over 70 had to be 2 metres away from everybody else. People under 3 feet high didn’t count. And anybody who enjoyed a Brussel Sprout were deemed to have lost their sense of taste and was immediately referred for a PCR test.

There’s usually some madness at work at this time of year.  As patients come and go, sometimes the same conversation  weaves  its way through the day; Abba's new release, those pesky non mask wearers, Prince Harry are three good conversational subjects.  But hugely popular is  the 'write your own Christmas Hallmark script' game as per the subject of last weeks blog.

I haven't seen the  film at all but it's very funny,  rather heart warming and the world could do with a bit of that. And more Abba music.

The versions we make up vary of course, most of them unprintable  in this blog but  nakedness seems to play a large part, as does  Nationalism and Harry Potter. 

So here goes with the most middle of the road version, you can add your own variations as we go.

So the script starts with a beautiful American multi millionaire supermodel/writer/stripper ( depending on genre we are going for )  flying across the Atlantic to appear at some big  fashion show/ book event/ Soho club in London. She's leaving behind the trauma of a  nasty stepmother/ writers block/ broken fingernail.  Her private jet is diverted due to storm Arwen and she crash lands on Loch Ness, right on top of the water.

Five  minutes later she's under the water. 

The trauma of this gives her total amnesia  but her makeup, her hair and her Christian Loubootains, Lebotains, ( her fancy shoes!!)  are  still perfectly intact. 

She escapes with a tiny scratch on her cheek, which is a miracle as the plane and the pilot are smashed to bits- totally splatteroonied as would say. To get financial backing there has to be something about  climate change in the movie so let's have more rain than usual ( I don't know if this is possible but it is Hallmark) . I know it's hard to imagine but bear with me.  

It's  obviously a few days before Santa time  but there's very little snow due to global warming. The loch is warmer that it should be  and Nessie pops up for a wee sun tan. She  sees the  aforementioned supermodel/novelist/stripper … and this is where the various versions come apart. 

In the slash horror version our heroine  barely has any clothes on, ( Raquel Welch in 1 million years BC) Nessie takes the part of Godzilla and the story ends up on the top of Ben Nevis in a King Kong kind of way. Army, big action scene at the end but Nessie and the supermodel have counselling, go vegan and end up living as haggis farmers on the shores of Inversneckie. 

                                             

However the Hallmark version, Nessie nudges the inert body of the supermodel to the side of the loch to lie amongst the stones, the discarded syringes and the  dead fish ... only to be  discovered by a handsome woodsman in a kilt and a simmit, looking like he’s just stepped off the front of a box of Porridge Oats after his screen test for Highlander and Outlander. 

                                                                   

                                                                         a scotsman in a simmit.

He scoops her up in his manly arms, carries her off to his croft in the woods where he tends to her injuries - the tiny  cut  that requires her head to be bandaged. Her  make up remains perfect. She  still can’t remember who she is, but she has an instinct to make  award winning gingerbread cookies and explain the rules of Baseball.  She  decides to sell the cookies in the glen and raises a lot of money   for the local orphanage, full of red headed, freckled  children  who each have a  small brown eyed puppy and nobody has a snottery noses. The puppies are all totally housetrained to the snow stays white.  

All this is set in a scene of Highland Lovelyness with tame fourteen point stags coming to drink at the lochside. Domestic haggis are running around the croft being cute and there's snow capped mountains in the distance.  The sleigh bell soundtrack is underpinned by the sound of a faint bagpipe, far enough away that it's not, in any way, annoying.

Then a search party came out looking for the supermodel to drag her back to her former life. But she’s enjoying her life away from Social media and the lack of Internet access. She hides behind a tree ( yes she is that thin)  until all the searchers go away.  She lives happily ever after with Mr McBiceps to the sound of Paul McCartney doing Mull of Kintyre.

Again.

                                             

                                                            Part of the rescue team!

In the version where she’s a writer, her estrangement from Social Media means she writes the definitive literary novel and becomes the first non-celebrity novel to reach number 1  in the charts for about 15 years.

I think if I work on this, I might have something.

Delusion maybe.

Caro