Bottom of the Xmas Foodchain
It’s Christmas Day on the sink estate, and one happy couple, their bellies full of rich, festive fare and fine wine, have temporarily stepped out from the warmth of their nearby apartment to enjoy a quick cigarette and in order for the young lady to have her festive footwear kissed by the local, public humble head. He, of course, is never off duty, and for him Christmas day is like any other day of the year – a working day. That’s because he’s just a slave.
Mind you, he does appear to be joining in with the festive mood as he has kindly been supplied with a soiled Santa hat courtesy of one of his regular customer-mistresses – Ms Mukta madam. It really is very kind of her as it should help to keep the slave’s humble head warm on such a bitterly cold day!
Note too how Ms Mukta has kindly left the slave a turkey wrap – though, somewhat thoughtlessly, she has left it just out of reach of the slave’s menial mouth! Perhaps the master-sir will kindly kick it over towards the slave’s forlorn face after the latter has finished kiss-respecting the man’s girlfriend’s red boots? Though, to be perfectly honest, the slave might do better not to eat the turkey wrap as it looks decidedly dirty and covered in germs. That’s because Ms Mukta, sweet and kind young woman that she is, had found it lying in a gutter by the side of the pavement on her way to see the public humble head, and had decided on the spare of the moment that he might like to taste some human food for a change as a special treat on Christmas Day!
That’s so typical of her – always thinking of others! Merry Christmas Ms Mukta, and God bless you! Indeed, may God bless all the slave’s customer masters and mistresses, since they are all better than the slave and therefore worthy of his respect and admiration.
As the couple turn to leave the slave and head back to their home, the Christmassy customer-mistress treads on his makeshift Christmas meal of soiled turkey-wrap like it is a piece of garbage – which, of course, it is! Mind you, the fact that it can now be considered proper ‘sole food’ (being sullied even further by the precious dirt from a customer-mistress’s bootsole) just makes the dirty slave want to eat it all the more! Haha! Too bad it’s out of reach, slave!
Eventually, the slave can only watch in envy as a passing pigeon avails itself of the footwear-soiled feast. And rightly so, for even its pigeon-sized brain knows that the public humble head is at the very bottom of the Christmas food chain!
