The twelve days of Christmas

Here are the text messages the lady sent to her true love.

The postman knocked at my door today with a partridge in a pear tree. What a wonderful and thoughtful gift.

A delivery van arrived this morning with not one but two Turtle doves. They are adorable.

Another day, another delivery – three French Hens. They are really lovely

This morning a new delivery driver brought four calling birds. They’re very cute but now I have 10 birds and the pear tree is getting a bit overcrowded what with the partridge, the Turtle Doves and the French hens. No more birds please.

Today, another lovely present. Five gold rings. But those birds – they make so much noise. I could do with some peace and quiet.

I heard a strange noise at my front door and there on the doorstep were six geese-a-laying. The eggs were cracked and I had to wash down the doorstep. The neighbours are concerned about bird flu and have threatened to report me to the RSPCA for keeping so many birds in one pear tree.

What’s this with birds? I could hardly see the delivery boy today behind seven swans, all swimming. They don’t stop cackling, and there’s the geese and the calling birds all fighting over the pears; and my living room is absolutely covered in bird droppings which is making a very unpleasant smell. My neighbour got the Environmental Health Department to check the drains. I managed to keep the swans indoors.

At least you didn’t send any more birds. But eight maids a-milking. And they brought their own cows. My patio is absolutely covered in cow pats and you know I have a milk allergy.

Nine ladies called round this morning. All dancing like they do on Strictly. I bet Bruce Forsythe and Tess Daly don’t have to waltz over six inches of bird poo and squashed fruit on the living room floor like they did. And the language when I complained – they’re no ladies I can tell you!

Now behind the maids-a-milking and ladies dancing I discover ten lords-a-leaping. Those birds were so knackered with calling and cooing and scratching they fell out of the pear tree and flopped on the floor. Now I have 23 dead birds killed by ten lords leaping on them. My bin is overflowing with dead birds. There is no more room in the green recycling box either as that is full of broken egg shells and cow dung. An official from the Ministry of Food and Agriculture wants to speak to me about import quotas and vaccination certificates. Property prices are beginning to crumble round here on the back of rumours about the smell coming from a sewer collapse.

I thought I got a little bit of peace and quiet now that the birds have gone but then you send me eleven pipers a-piping. They just don’t stop. Well only when they chase the maids-a-milking around the yard and of course that brings more cow dung into the living room. The man from DEFRA asked me to place a bucket of disinfectant on the doorstep as a precaution against foot and mouth. The Council Environmental Enforcement Officer has pinned a Noise Abatement Order on my door to stop the piping. The neighbours can’t watch X Factor in peace.

Dear Mr Truelove. Our client has asked that you refrain from sending her any more gifts. The twelve drummers-a-drumming was just too much. They couldn’t drum in tune and one was dressed in a gorilla suit. Our client is too distressed to ask you to desist herself. The cows have been sent to a local farm, the lords and ladies restored to the House of Lords, the maids-a-milking sent on a NVQ course at the local Agricultural College, the pipers will be at the Edinburgh Tattoo this Saturday and the drummers will be auditioning for Britains Got Talent. Our client is returning the five gold rings as she does not feel that there can be any future in continuing this relationship.

Yours sincerely

Sue, Grabbit and Runne, Solicitors.