An Alice in Wonderland Christmas story – for free
Category Archives: fantasy story
Fantastic Beasts and where to find them,
That’s the aim and conundrum,
For they are keen and magical too,
And if not careful they will get you.
So when you set off with wand in hand,
Make sure it’s primed with magical rhymes,
For as sure as night follows each day,
You will need that magic to get your way.
And if you do, if you kill those beasts,
And make the world safe from gruesome deeds,
Don’t you forget how many there are,
Waiting, just waiting to strike from afar.
There once was a slug called Reilly,
Who was incredibly slimy,
He thought he was smart,
Going out in the dark,
Until he fell down in a hole, did Reilly.
While stuck in that dark place,
Reilly thought about his life and his fate,
About the jerk he had been,
To everyone he had seen,
So he promised to be good, did Reilly.
Suddenly, a stick falling into the hole,
Presented a way to escape from it all,
Freed from that space,
Reilly forgot his promise, though great.
And returned to his bad ways, did Reilly.
One day when Reilly was alone,
He forgot to cover up his dank home,
It was an incredibly hot day,
The sun shone brightly away,
Drying him up, that slug, old Reilly,
The moral of my story is this,
Treat everyone you meet with a wish,
That their life is just fine,
Untroubled by lying and slime,
Don’t end up like silly old Reilly.
Aliens landed in Ballykilduff,
Aliens landed; that is a fact,
In the dark of the night it happened, it did,
At the end of my garden they landed, then hid.
Breda, dear Breda, wake up, will you please?
Something is happening; I am all in a tizz!
Leave me alone, she answered, I’m beat,
With those words on her lips she fell fast asleep.
Donning my gown and slippers I left,
Her sleeping soundly as into the kitchen I crept,
Taking hold of light; the torch, my best friend,
Into the garden I stealthily went.
Along the path, man and light progressed,
Over the fence, into the field with its guests,
Pointing my torch at some little green men,
I saw aliens a plenty around a spaceship broken.
What are they doing? I said far too loud,
Signalling my place, my location – and how,
Pointing their guns, the aliens zapped me with rays,
Blue, yellow and green, orange and grey.
Thinking my time was finished, all gone,
I fell to the ground, awaiting the anon,
Sorry about that, one of them said, helping me up
We thought you were a cow, wanting to eat us all up
What are you doing? I asked, with curious eyes,
Seeing them cutting the grass, taking it inside,
We are refuelling our spaceship, he told me quite proud,
We get one light year per armful, he said out aloud.
That’s amazing, I said, can I go see inside?
Sorry, he answered, it’s too small for your like,
Laughing, I asked if there was anything they need,
Yes, he told me forthrightly, can we have some tea?
Tea? I asked, you drink tea way up there,
In outer space, with its atmosphere rare?
No, silly, he replied, it’s to pour down our boots,
We never travel with them empty, forsooth.
You pour tea down your boots? I laughed out loud,
What does it do, make you fly like a bird?
It does, he told me, how did you know that?
Was your mother or father an alien, or even the cat?
Just then I heard something, someone calling to me,
Gerrard, wake up, its morning; here is your tea,
Opening my eyes, I saw Breda my wife,
Offering the cup of plenty, tea of my life.
Where are my boots? I asked, still half sleep,
I want them, I need them; oh where are they please?
They are under the bed, here, she said, offering them to me,
Why do you want them before drinking your tea?
Accepting my boots, I poured in the tea,
What on earth are you doing? she asked warily,
I don’t go anywhere, I told her, without filling them first,
Can I have another cup, I asked, because I sure have a thirst.
The moral of my story is this:
Don’t go anyway to Ballykilduff, give it a miss,
Things are happening in spaceships; it’s true,
Aliens aplenty are waiting for YOU.
Part One – The Fabled Crest
Sunday Morning Coming Down
My name is Slimy and, like my best friend Sluggy, I am a slug. Sluggy is older than I am by three full days. Moreover, he is famous. Everyone in the garden, including the lowly snails, knows Sluggy, and everyone one of us aspires to be just like him when we grow up.
With his twenty-first birthday fast approaching (twenty-one days, that is), Sluggy wanted a party, a big party. Because we like him so much, it was no problem, no problem at all to honour his wish. We set about organising it, the party of the week, the party to beat all others, the celebrity slug party that soon had the whole garden buzzing with excitement…
My story begins one sunny summer’s afternoon, with Croaky the fog sitting on his favourite lily pad, enjoying the sun while lying in wait for a dainty morsel to catch. Watching the flies buzzing to and fro across the pond, hoping that one of them landed nearby, or at least slowed down enough, to allow him an opportunity to secure his next meal, Croaky sat perfectly still. But there were so many flies flitting around, Croaky didn’t know which of them to watch let alone catch. Then he heard a sound, a low droning buzz, quite different to the usual insect sounds that he had become accustomed to hearing. This new one was an altogether more courser sound. Tilting his head over to one side, Croaky tried to hear it clearer. It was a fly, he was quite certain of that, but so different from any that he had up until then heard. The sound grew louder and louder, so loud Croaky imagined it must be the mother of all flies coming his way. His stomach growled in anticipation of the wonderful meal heading towards him…
Skulduggery’s afoot; did you hear him say,
Trouble’s abroad, that means TODAY.
It’s time to face the Faceless Ones,
Skulduggery and friend; his best number one.
Skulduggery is dead; he is only some bones,
Traipsing through of Dublin, appearing alone
And just as we think he is finished – again,
Valkyrie appears and saves her best friend.
Derek Landy, a cabbage farmer by trade,
Was inspired to create said detective and aid,
While tending his crops in the field one day,
He shouted, Eureka, I have it; I’m made!
I won’t have to tend cabbages anymore,
Working the fields until my back is so sore,
Skulduggery and partner will give me it all,
Money and fame; I will have such a ball!
It’s goodbye from Derek and adios from me,
He’s off to the bank and I’m off to a field,
Searching through cabbages for ideas of my own,
Like The Crazymad Detective with a sidekick called Bones.
Nah, that’s no good, it’s too corny; let me see…
Ah, I have it, Doctor Bones and his Travelling Palaces.
That certainly has a ring to it.
You want to know what Travelling Palace are?
Hah, that’s easy to explain.
No, I won’t tell you! Read Alice in Wonderland Christmas.
And when you have read it you will understand just what they are.