Next person to put up an AI caricature is getting deported to Siberia…I have this power

New Year, New Me. This is on the advise of my accountant. Say hello to ‘Geoffrey Carcass’ and my new and totally legal bank account

I am reminded of a moment from the horror film YellowBrickRoad.

Melissa Barnes: Are you going to kill me now? Here?
Daryl Luger: Yes.
Melissa Barnes: Does there have to be so much pain?
Daryl Luger: Yes.

I held the sausage like a huge meaty claymore and brought it down on his head, sending him into a pile of plant pots. Out cold. As I disappeared into the crowd I realised the true monster here was cholesterol.

Always try to eat oily fish three times a week.

I discarded the bun by flinging it into the chops of a charity worker trying to get my bank account details. As I wielded it towards him, I could see he was entranced by the sheer size of the two-foot meat cylinder. His mouth began to drool uncontrollably and his eyes glazed over.

He drew closer, pushing over a group of office workers on a wellness walk. It was then that I saw the greatest word in English language, “brotwurst”. I lunged over the counter of the German sausage stand and grabbed the longest one I could find.

I ducked behind two fat people from Telford to try and catch a glimpse of my pursuer. As I forced my way through their thighs I saw the glint of a meat cleaver. It was Adrian Chiles. By his disheveled appearance I could tell he’d been camped out by the bins behind the New Street vape shop.

I decided to make my escape as their expressions implied they wanted their money back. I sought cover in the German Christmas Market, little did I know I had picked up a tail. Now I’m not referring to the collection of pig tails I keep to ward off guard dogs. This was a human tail.

Jaded Christmas Report 008

I awoke startled. I’d fallen asleep on the train again. Normally this wouldn’t have been much of aissue but I happened to be driving it. This explained the bemused look on my passengers' faces whose trip on the Eurostar to Disney World had somehow terminated in Birmingham

Nevertheless I escape, leaving behind a trail of bruised egos and bloody handkerchiefs.

Be warned. The same could happen to you.

This was definitely going to be the last time I try to buy tarpaulin… the bastards always seem to be waiting for me around the corner. Right behind inflatable reindeer.

Jaded Christmas Report 007:

‘Flags, flags, flags. I love them. Nom nom nom’, said the note which was thrust into my hand during my third kidnapping of the month. I think it said that—difficult to judge someone’s grammar when it’s written in green crayon.

If you don’t have a possessed elf then I’m probably just following you because I’m bored

Jaded Christmas Report 006

In these dark and frosty evenings you may find me following you. Don’t worry. I’m just trying to catch the elf on the shelf which has latched onto your neck. So far all I can tell is that their ultimate goal is shred all your VAT receipts.

All evidence pointed towards me spectacularly falling over into the dinosaur exhibit at the Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery and passing out.

This was fine. I am at my most dangerous when shrouded in the darkness amongst the bones of dead monsters.

I steadied myself on the floor and felt something strange. My eyes began to adjust to the darkness and I realised I had spent the night asleep on a pile of bones.

Fear not, they weren’t human or from any animal I could identify.

The gunk in my lungs began to move and I promptly heaved up a long sticky stream of bile which I could feel collecting into a small mound at my feet.

As the thick liquid escaped my mouth I could hear it echo in the cavernous interior of wherever the fuck I was.

Jaded Christmas Report 005

Darkness. That was all I could see, but I thought it prudent to check my eyes were open. Darkness.

I felt terrible, as if I had spent the evening inhaling exhaust fumes. I recalled being in Birmingham so that was probably the case.

In an age of chaos, they offer a level of drunken, patronising security which is hitherto unknown.

I must go now. I'm looking at my own reflection and it isn't me.

The important thing is I survived.

So if you were to put a gun to my head—like Gaby did—I would say I am most grateful for large groups of middle-aged businessmen this time of year.

Now that I think about it, it was the person who I was tied up to during that unfortunate situation at Gaby Logan's house asking me five times. I assumed he was saying that, but it was difficult to hear through the gag.

Actually, no I haven't... it's 5.

Jaded Christmas Report 004

I've lost count of the number of people who ask me what I'm grateful for at Christmas.

I see him now, skulking through the hedgerows by the river with his meat cleaver. I've waved to him but he's pretending he hasn't seen me. I'll keep at it and see what happens, but I think I'll find somewhere to hide behind. 😬

He'd had it in for me ever since my brief time co-hosting ITV sport with him, where I pointed out his lack of coaster use. Some say this was the moment which led to his downfall.

Fear not, it wasn't me who did the deed. This bore all the expert hallmarks of my arch enemy, Adrian Chiles.

Jaded Christmas Report 003

The axe in my bank manager's back suggested to me that my negotiations for some extra Christmas present money weren't going to proceed much further.

Sadly, that was as far as our conversation went. Without warning, he plunged his face into the fork.

As his remains fell to the floor, I wondered what it was about the short-haired national treasure that made him feel this way. What even was he feeling? I would never know.

I waited for my panini.

I could sense danger. Humphrey had recently joined Reform, and he had been issued with their standard-issue pitchfork which I could see he was clutching tightly. His knuckles white against the shiny red backdrop of his greasy hands.

His eyes were murderous and then suddenly deeply sad, like some terrible and tragic drama was being played through what was left of his booze-ruined mind.

I finally realised the problem.

It was Judi Dench. She was on the television again.