Doing Something More Interesting

This picture is my idea of doing something more interesting. I think it would be very interesting to have invented something like the 'cyclorama' which was actually invented in the 1700s. There was no TV or DVD then and people were a bit bored. So they could go to this building where you could experience events like, a battle without being killed or a parliamentary debate without having to stay very long. Today you could experience, the moon landings or Buzz Aldrin's spacewalk which would be buzztastic.

So Mum pipes up.
'It's so good of that nice Mr Parkin to be Father Christmas again-especially after last year.' She says this to dad in a whisper as though I won't hear it.
I decide to do something more interesting. 'Just going to look over there!'
'Put that back, Wilfred!' calls my mum as I pull one of the staples out of the green stuff around the entrance to the tent grotto. I make an outrageous discovery. 'This is plastic holly!' I shout. 'It's not even real!' This just about sums up the whole of Christmas for me. Fake and made up.
And the whole queue has a good look.
'Leave it alone!' Mum starts pointing frantically. 'Look, look! There's Dexter, near the tree, why don't you hello. We'll keep your place!'
But Dexter has seen me first. He sprints over and nearly slips on the ice. 'Like them?' he asks and switches the flashing Rudolph antlers on and off.
I'm impressed though I don't say so.
'I've got the nose too,' he says, putting that on as well.
I am jealous now.
'Quite good,' I say, 'But I bet I can light up my entire body like that Christmas tree.'
'Go on then,' says Dexter.
'Follow me.'
So we walk quite boldly up to the Christmas tree and then creep around the back of Santa's tent grotto. It is quite interesting round here because there is a great long line of twinkling cable leading to a large plug just inside the open post office door.
'Watch,' I say.
And I grab the spare lines of fairy lights and wrap them around me like an enormous scarf. I am looped and swirled all round with lights. 'Ta-da!' I say and stretch out my arms.
'Wow!' says Dexter.
Then the carol singers start up again over the loud speakers and Dexter starts to prance like Ruddolph and I start to dance like dad. And we laugh and laugh until...
FIZZLE! POP! It all goes black.
The carol singers go all silent night.
And there is a lot of screaming.
'I think I've pulled the plug out,' I say, unwrapping myself really quickly.
'Now you've done it,' says Dexter. 'I'm off.'

Nightmare.
Wilf