THE SCUM MAG ADVENT CALENDAR EXPERIENCE™
From December 1st until December 24th, Scum writers will be building onto this growing story. Check in every day to watch it unfold!
Twas the night before Christmas and all kinds of jive shit were going on.
Mel, in the corner, twas lighting Stacey’s bong.
In their flat far away, without curtains or doorman
far from mums, dads and nans sprawled our Christmas “orphans”.
When there fell a deep silence, their faces grew long.
Mel gave a deep sigh: “I miss Wollongong.”
Then Travis sprung up in his festive regalia, took a sip of his gin: “yeah nah, fuck Australia.”
Then all of them laughed and they threw back their heads.
Well, all, except one, you see Nathan was dead.
Yes Nathan was dead, he knew it right then.
He could tell this was hell by the smoke in the den.
His friends smoked for Christmas, no joy in their faces,
And that fucking ad on the tv put him through his paces.
No tree in the corner, no stockings hung’d the shelf,
Christmas was ruined by the devil himself.
“What happened to Christmas?” Nathan said, Mel replied:
“Oh shit man you’re back, we thought you had died.”
Nathan said nothing, the weed made him quiet,
But inside his head his mind was a’riot.
He struck down the beer tower, it fell with a clatter.
His friends stunned to silence, Trav asked: “What’s the matter?”
Could Christmas be saved? Nath’ fought with the thought,
As his gaze cast upon the destruction he wrought.
Nathan said: “Twas nothing, you may resume banter.”
But he thought: “I did die, once Nathan, now Santa.”