‘Tis the season

“Silent night, holy night,” they sang sweetly. “All is calm, all is bright. Round yon v-” PLAPFFBBB! Suddenly a sleigh-load of manure was flung across the street by a catapult erected solely for that purpose, and this surprise seasonal offensive in the decades-old neighbourly feud was the most devastating yet, showering all the singers, the man at the door, his porch and a goodly portion of his hallway in admittedly high-quality animal cack.

A little treat

She opened the door on her advent calendar. Ah, a little chocolate. How lovely! She popped it out of the plastic and h- suddenly her entire body was smashed against the wall several metres away as a torrent of turds hit her with incredible force. Her bones shattered, her brain pulverised and her heart shocked, it was only a question of whether she’d suffocate before she died from the impact.

The last supper

Given that the six men had gone for a spicy banquet and then slept in a room barely big enough to hold a single bed and a wardrobe, it was no surprise that the concentration of guffs in the air had reached combustible levels, and as the flames ravaged their contorted bodies, an onlooker remarked that they were fortunate to have already died of asphyxiation.