A timeless children's classic gets the Jesus Budda treatment for this jolly Christmas Season.
Ho ho ho!
As darkness descends over the old town, a young boy makes his way home from a long hard day slogging in the chimneys. Covered from head to foot in soot and dirt, he dances around gayly ( ye olde worlde meaning) and skips past puddles of filthy black sewerage.
I'm a silly little wanker
Look at me..", sings young Charlie Fuckit.
Ok, maybe he was prancing about 'gayly' as in the modern meaning of the word!
He stops to tie his worn brown boots and glances upwards as he realises he's standing in front of the great iron gates of the legendary Chocolate Shit Factory.
"Cor blimey! Oi quite fancies seein' wots inside that thar factory, I do!", he chips in a faux Cockney accent.
Thick brown smoke spews out from the penis-shaped towers. Flashing neon lights spell out the name "Willy Wanker".
"Ee's the best chocolate shit maker in the entire world, 'e is", says a voice in the distance.
Taken by surprise, Charlie glances around and sees an old man hobbling forward, pushing a wooden cart laden with shite of all descriptions (namely shite).
"Night and day the work continues in there, but never a soul is witnessed coming or going from the grand building", continues the haggard old toothless man.
"Oh why don't you just fuck off!", says Charlie as he is in no mood to listening to some dirty old fool try and chat him up.
"Ohhh, you cheeky boy. 'Asn't your mother ever told you it's rude to say bold words?"
"Suck my cock, Gary Glitter. You paedophile, fucking cack-jockey. I'm off 'ome, I am. Cheerio!", says Charlie as he skips away merrily.
The moon hangs over the fog-cloaked town. That's probably got to do with the fact that the moon is artificial and held by strings, this being a cheap-ass remake on a tight budget.
The door flings open and Charlie rushes inside the tattered shack that he calls home.
"'Ello, Muvver!", he shouts as he gives her a great big kiss and a hug.
"'Allo, Charlie. Oh, you are a dear boy.", she replies as she hugs him back and then pushes him away as he starts to get a bit too amorous with her breasts.
"'Allo, grandpa Joe and my other inbred relatives!", he continues as he greets the others in the room.
"Good evening, my boy!", Grandpa Joe responds as he pushes back the sheets on the double bed, revealing his naked boney body.
Both he, Grandpa Dave, Grandma Bertha and Grandma Janice are neatly tucked up beneath the sheets. Nobody comments on how fucking weird this is and instead carry on as if incest is something which all children's novels should accept as 'normal'.
"Oi passed by Willy Wanker's Factory today", says Charlie as he tucks into a marmalade sandwich.
"But, Charlie, you pass that factory ever day. It's on the route home. Why would you bother telling us such a banal story for? And quit feeling me tits!", says his mother.
"Oh, mother, how oi wish oi could make enough money so that oi could take care of you and all my incestuous relatives", sighs Charlie.
"Cheer up, Charlie… You are a miserable little prick…", his mother begins singing
"Oh, would you ever shut the fuck up, mother! Oi've been workin' all day and Oi don't wanna be listening to you warblin' on like a retarded canary!", he snaps.
"You know, Charlie, they say Willy Wonka is the greatest cholocalate shit ..", says Granpa Joe before Charlie interrupts:
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I've heard it already, pops. Blah, blah, blah. Who gives a shit! It's not gonna make my life any easier hearing about 'im!"
They settle down to eat their tea, which consists of more marmalade and stinking gruel.
Charlie switches on the black and white television (this being an equal-opportunities, non-racist kind of device)
"Fucking X-Factor's still on! Shite!", he curses as he flicks through the channels.
He stops at the news. A stuffy-looking reporter cuts in with some breaking news:
"We wish to report that Legendary Chocolate Shit Maker, Willy Wanker, is to open the gates to his magical factory and allow Five lucky children to see inside, and they also get a lifetimes supply of steaming chocolate shite.
Magical Shit-stained tickets will be hidden in certain packets of Wanker Chocolate Shit. Terms and conditions apply. Subject to availability. Offer not applicable to residents of Isle of Man and Jersey..."
Do you hear that, Charlie? Mr. Wanker is letting children inside his factory!", shouts Uncle Joe excitedly.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Keep your pants on, Uncle Joe. I'm not deaf, ya know!".
Uncle Joe falls silent and follows Charlie's demands: he puts his pants back on and covers his erection with his hands.
"You stand as good a chance as all the other boys and girls, Charlie", says his mother, "you just need to believe".
"What the fuck are you, mom? Obama? I have fuck all luck. I work in a chimney factory cleaning chimney's for a livin; I live with my incestuous relatives and I survive on daily rations of marmalade and gruel! Now how in fuck do you think I'm gonna win anything?!!
Hope is a dangerous thing, dear mother"
"Yes, Charlie my boy, but hope can set you free", she adds with a kindly smile.
"That's it! No more watching The Shawshank Redemption for you! I'm sick of you quoting all Morgan Freeman's sayings!".
His mother gets into bed with the others.
"Aren't you coming, Charlie?", she asks, as Grandpa Joe cocks an eyebrow and grins.
"No, mother, carry on without me. Oi shan't be long before I finish me marmalade".
He goes outside and sits on the steps and gazes up at the sky, just as a shooting star flickers past.
He sings a different verse to his shitty little tune:
I'm a poor, sad bastard
Won't somebody give me choccy..."