'We three kings of Orient aaaaargh' the men sung as they cavorted through the valley like carol singing pirates. Who would have thought that Nana's green salad would have a hallucinogenic weed in it? They'd helped themselves first, of course, leaving none for the rest of the guests. Men didn't need manners when they had tolerant woman around them that failed to slap the serving tongs out of their hands.

'Bearing gifts we travel - traipse - TRAVERSE afaaaarggggh'. None of them could remember all the lyrics all that well, but primary school Christmas songs had left them with ear worms of the tune for the last forty years, reinforced by their kids doing bad renditions of it on the recorder. For what was the recorder for, they wondered, but for torturing adults with Christmas songs?

'Field and fountain, moor and mountaiiiiiin, following yonder staaaaaaaaaarrrgh'. The song carried back up to the house where the woman were putting the children to bed and tidying up the piles of Christmas wrapping. It was a relief that the three had decided to leave the party to follow yonder stttarrraaggggggggggggh, as they had so eloquently put it, Ben shoving things from the decimated Christmas table into his sack a.k.a one of the children's stockings that had been left out the night before for Santa.

There was a whacking big star, the men agreed. The woman had looked up into the sky and saw nothing. They had made themselves coffee and brandy and settled into deck chairs to watch the men dance around the front garden half playing cricket, as was the tradition. Most years the men had behaved themselves, but this year they were acting decidedly strange. Mel blamed Ben, as Ben always tried to sneak something into any party, even if it was Christmas and he was meant to behave. Davo swore to his missus there was something in Nana's salad, but he couldn't stop giggling and all she got was 'shalad ahahahaha'.

The star was leading them through the valley. It was just to the left of a hilarious moon that winked and sung with the men. A singing moon seemed strange at first but once they sung with it for a while they got used to it.

'It's the second coming! We're the ducking Kings!' Davo shouted, and the declaration echoed off the valley walls. 'Ucking, ucking, ucking' shouted the rocks. 'Ing, ing, ing'. Will used both hands to hold onto his paper crown as he slid and tripped on the rocky and muddy path down to the sea, urging the others to do the same with theirs. Their crowns must be preserved at all costs! They could not be Kings without them!

'Presents! Did you bring the ducking presents!' Davo shouted at Ben, who was giggling and pointing at the star ahead.

'Myrrh is mine... gathering gloom...sorrowing, sighing, bleeding, dying...sealed in the stone-cold tomb.' Will went quiet for a moment, half in awe at his half remembered lyrics and half in suprise that they could be so darn depressing.

'Yesh!' giggled Ben. He had no idea why Davo kept shouting about ducks but he did remember the three gifts they had meant to bring. 'Boys, grab my sack!'. That was enough to send them into peels of hysterical laughter. The stocking was emptied out onto the path. One bag of chocolate covered coffee beans, a bottle of whiskey and a pack of Ritz crackers.

'Well duck me' Davo said quietly. It wasn't frankincense and myrrh, but it was 2022 and they'd had a hell of a year. There was, however, a little gold on the label of the bottle.

And so it was that they reached the sea with mouthfuls of whiskey burning their mouths, because the newborn king was surely too young to drink let alone appreciate a bottle of Aldi's finest. The guiding star and the singing moon cast their shimmering light over the dark waters as the three friends stumbled and found a place on the cool sand to see the sunrise.

'O star of wonder, star of light, star with royal beauty bright, westward leading, still proceeding, guide us to thy perfect light.' Truly it was beautiful, a cracking night of nights, and would be to someone who hadn't accidentally eaten a hallucinogenic weed that looked a lot like spinach, but wasn't. Nana had missed the supermarket recall news, clearly, and thus, the friends were utterly ducked.

The waves crashed quietly on the shore and the warm summer night wrapped around them like a hug. 'Coffee bean, then?' Davo asked, passing around the foil package.

'Well Christ ain't here to eat 'em' Ben laughed, tipping a giant's handful down his throat. The coffee would keep them up for hours, even if the whiskey threatened to send them comatose.

Another Christmas was nearly over, and next year Nana wouldn't be around to make her spinach salad. The accidental dish would become legendary amongst them all, and they'd talk about it for all their days, and be Kings of Christmas with their paper hats in her honour, eating chocolate coffee beans by the handful in lieu of Christmas pudding.

One had to get into the spirit properly, after all.

^{Collage by me with images via Unsplash}