A Very Nigel Farage Christmas Story!

Here is an incredible and heartwarming Christmas tale I first wrote for the Alternative Comedy Memorial Society Christmas gig but one that still holds resonance nearly 10 days later. Proof of the power of good writing! Get excited, get reading, get emotional!


Nigel Farage the leader of UKIP looked down into the toilet basin for a moment’s reflection. Through the bathroom door came the muted sounds of daytime television; a loveless couple looking to buy a property with “a bit more space” so they didn’t have to look at each other as much as they currently did. The prices were from 2013 but the sentiment felt all too current. He shook his head and breathed a leader’s sigh. Going toilet always made him somber. Last night he had dreamt he had tamed a mighty grey horse and together they had ridden across every continent in the world spreading British values to those less fortunate. But here he was, waiting for the cistern to refill with water so he could flush away a poo.

As he refastened his sensible trousers he noticed he’d splashed a little warm piss on them. He shook his head sadly “bloody Immigrants” he moaned bravely. He gave the toilet handle an aggressive flush and strode manfully towards his front door. Outside the cold hit him like a sad punch. So cold these days he thought and shook his head once more, “bloody Immigrants.” He looked down at the shopping list in his hand. It simply read “Christmas meat, (British obvs!)” It was a fun joke from his wife but Nigel Farage wasn’t in the mood for laughter. What even is Britain any more? He thought to himself and sneered as he trudged towards the butcher’s shop.

The queue for meat stretched out of the door, poor Nigel Farage, it seemed everyone had the same idea. Looking closer now at the people lined up Nigel Farage let out a yelp of British indignation. There in front of him, in the queue, was a Muslim, a black gay and a paedophile! He turned away, puked hard into a bin and slumped defeated to the wet cold floor. “They’re not British” he squawked to the darkening sky, “They don’t share our values!” But, just as he shut his eyes, came a comforting, surprising voice:

“Looks like you could do with a lift…”


Confused but excited at the fancy car in front of him, Nigel Farage peered through the window and was amazed at who was in the driver’s seat! Well let me tell you, it was James Bond, 007, the iconic British Super Spy and Nigel Farage’s all time hero! Looking closer now Nigel could see James Bond, 007 was made up of all the actors to have played the role! There were Sean Connery’s eyes, Roger Moore’s lovely mouth, the arms unmistakably Brosnan’s, the ears, classic Daniel Craig and those legs! How had he not spotted sooner he wondered? It was so obvious to him now, one of them Timothy Dalton’s, the other, Bob Holness the former Blockbusters TV host who famously played Bond in a 1956 South African adaptation of Moonraker. “You have left me shaken AND stirred” Joked Nigel Farage which was very well received by James Bond 007. Ice firmly broken, they soon fell about laughing together as men are want to do when women are safely out of sight. They began to wrestle and put things in each other’s ears. Nigel Farage hummed the theme song to the A Team and they took turns at making explosion noises. They swapped recipe tips for roast dinners and drew pictures of boobs from memory. It was really great.

Sweaty from the fun, James Bond 007 drove Nigel Farage towards a large country estate. “I think you will like it here Nigel.” He chirped “we’ve set up a perfect British Christmas just for you!” As the door to the friendly home swung open, there to greet him stood Harry Potter! The boy wizard gave him a mince pie and led him inside, but if Nigel Farage was feeling overwhelmed already, his head span fully in amazement at the scene that was coming into focus around him:

A Grandma asleep in front of Wallace and Gromit! A bad Christmas cracker joke eliciting forced chuckles from a tired family! A gathering of grubby Victorian orphans singing about Jesus! A young couple being jokingly but firmly pressured to provide Grandkids! Some ham! Bucks Fizz spilt on the new sofa! A War veteran sat in a corner saying “Pigs in Blankets” to himself! Noddy Holder scooping at brandy butter with a cupped hand! An aunt insisting, “goose is actually more traditional!” A robin asleep on a baby’s warm head! And there, underneath a Christmas Tree, heaving with tinsel, choccies and proper, British hope, was a present labeled “to Nigel Farage”…

Not waiting for an invitation he fell to his knees and tore greedily at the paper, which flew sharp through the air, cutting the faces of the orphans around him. Nigel Farage didn’t care, it was Christmas Day in Britain and he had a present to bloody open! Beneath the glitzy wrapping was a sight to melt the heart of anyone who looked upon it, a basket of mewing puppies, dozily opening their eyes after a lovely puppy snooze, glittery Christmas bows tied cutely around their necks. The few orphans still conscious shared a collective “aww” as Nigel Farage looked on at this most perplexing, most welcome of gifts.

He looked up at James Bond 007, Harry Potter and 8th Doctor Who Paul McGann (who had turned up late) a dusty, confusing tear threatening to salt Nigel Farage’s life long dry eyes, but the gifts were not yet over. The 8th Doctor Who Paul McGann, who should have been in The Day of the Doctor instead of John Hurt, passed Nigel Farage one final present. Mute from the kindness thrust upon him, Nigel Farage slowly unpeeled the wrapping. Inside glistened a brand new revolver loaded with bullets. Nigel Farage nodded. How well they knew him and his desire to allow gun ownership in the UK.
Looks like we all have guns now! Laughed James Bond 007 even though Harry Potter and Paul McGann didn’t have one. From the corner of the room the sound of Christmas crackers firing and a family huddled around an iPad to watch a video of a relative playing a flute badly. This was the best Christmas Nigel Farage had ever known.


“Of course, Those puppies aren’t British Nigel” Came the voice from James Bond 007. Nigel Farage froze dead. “They don’t share your values.” Said Harry Potter, coldly. “I’m a Doctor,” said Paul McGann “But probably not the one you were expecting!” Before adding “We want you to kill the puppies with your new Christmas gun.”

Nigel Farage looked down again at the playful puppies. “How can you tell they aren’t British?” He pleaded?
Look again said his three new friends and they pointed menacingly at the basket. On returning his gaze he was aghast to see, one of the puppies was now in a burkha, one was a black gay and the other a paedophile!

Nigel Farage felt his world collapse around him in an instant, he lurched, dazed at the figures in the room, trying to clutch desperately at Britain, but it wasn’t to be found. A Christmas cracker failed to make a pop sound when pulled, “Bloody immigrants again!” moaned a blotch-faced Aunt and everyone laughed as turkey bits dropped from their callous mouths. Nigel could see now, Noddy Holder was crying to himself, the ham was overcooked and the War Veteran was actually a Nazi one; and the pigs in blankets were all disabled people! The nazis’s laughing face seemed almost to pass through Nigel’s own as he reached out to wrap bacon around anyone he didn’t like the look of.

Nigel Farage collapsed into a heap or wrapping paper and regret, tears finally arriving to his tired, terrified frame. “I was wrong!” He belched into the darkness “I was wrong James Bond 007! Harry Potter! 8th Doctor Who Paul McGann! I was wrong and I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
The world around him went cold in an instant, as if the very life was being sucked from him, but still he could not stop crying, did not dare to look up. When finally his sobs had collapsed into empty heaving he became aware he was no longer in the Christmas house. Rubbing the tears from his eyes he was amazed to see he was back in the butcher’s shop! A concerned mass huddled around him, offering mulled wine and mixed meats. The butcher’s shop! Of course! Thought Nigel Farage and his face sprang into a wide Christmas smile.

“You boy! He yelped at a nearby child. What country is this?”
“Why sir” Said the boy, in a Christmas sort of a way I guess “this is Great Britain of course!”
Nigel Farage hugged the boy, not even noticing that the boy was both black and gay! He hi-5ed a Muslim and gave his own Christmas scarf to the paedophile. All this time he had been trying to bring back British values, he hadn’t stopped to notice, they were already here!

Everyone in the shop started laughing as you can imagine and quickly tumbled onto the street outside to throw sausages and minced beef at each other. The police joined in and also The Queen! The cast of EastEnders started a kick about and Tom Daley did a dive! It was really great. God it was great.

As the snow and mince stung his grateful ears and eyes Nigel Farage looked up laughing and saw, smiling back at him from a distance, James Bond 007. They both nodded like at the end of a movie and James Bond 007 turned to leave.
“There’s one thing I need to ask you still”, cried out Nigel Farage, emboldened now by all the meat throwing. “Which part of you is George Lazenby the actor who played you in On Her Majesty’s Secret Service? “
James Bond, 007 turned back round, smiled a Sean Connery smile “let me show you.”

They fucked greedily as outside, Christmas happened.