We three kings of orient are a lovely slowly roasted dinner due to a translation error

I have been asking Napoleon Beelzebub about Santa and Satan looking rather similar and how both are into red in a big way and Mr Beelzebub said HO HO HO LITTLE BOY AND what would you like for Christmas before both him and the dog fell about on the floor in hysterics. Yes mum did say IDIOTS.

Anyway Christmas Eve is a time of Christmas carols and interesting stories so Captain Flint the Parrot who is very very very old, and I mean very old at least five or six hundred years, has been telling us about a tribe in his native South American forest and how their ancestral song ended up as a Christmas carol.

It appears the tribe were cannibals, I know not nice, but these things happened back in the old days, and Captain Flint said the tribe would attack other tribes and run off with the juicy ones and eat them in a big festival with roast chestnuts and hang their clothes above the open fire as they slowly roasted their dinner (OK YUK). As time passed European Missionaries arrived and said hang on this is not nice you cant do that so they (the tribe) tried eating the missionaries, but they tasted really YUK to the tribe. It was the high wheat diet of the Europeans, all that bread and hard ships biscuits, and it turned out the tribe was allergic to wheat, what with there being none in the jungle.

Then on this very night hundreds of years ago three kings from the east arrived who had followed a star, and they came bearing gifts having travelled over field and fountain, moor and mountain, following yonder star until they arrived in the deep forest. The tribe who now realized eating Europeans was a bad move said Hello who are you then and the three Kings said We’re three kings of Orient are but due to a terrible error in translation it was translated into Wheat Free Kings of Orient are, and so on Christmas day all those hundreds of years ago the tribe had a delicious meal of three kings. The ornate stockings that the kings were wearing hanging in the branches above the fire filled with the gifts that they brought with them.  

The tribe wrote a song in celebration and as the kings were from the orient the song became a victim of Chinese Whispers and the rest as Captain Flint the Parrot said is History.

And so with Captain Flints Christmas tale (the story not his tail) we all wish you a happy Christmas, unless you are watching the rerun of the block buster movie in August ……… mum just said IDIOT now. HO HO HO.  

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