(NOT EDITED) A non-winnable battle has ended with a truce, two slices of Christmas Pudding, and a rowdy, drunken version of, 'Heilige Nacht, Stille Nacht'. The peace treaty was signed by both parties after things turned nasty, and a plethora of nerve-gas rose over the battlefield once again.
Both battling parties have flown their white flags, acknowledging the battles could never lead to ultimate surrender. One party has promised never to piss up his enemies tree again, and never enter the jungle where his once-enemy sits like Marlon Brando, overseeing apocalyptic procedures.
The other party, has promised to leave his quite insane, abstract, extrovert, ageing, enemy Nutter in peace. This peace treaty was signed in an In-Seine trench, and will never be broken until Manchester United and Hull City play each other in the Premier League; in other words, never.
Witnesses were invited to witness the signing. However, they were too busy counting votes in Georgia, again and again, until Trump is declared the winner.
Both warring parties have returned to their fox-holes, pissed as newts, and have vowed to abide by the treaty, enjoy a slice of perennial, stodgy Christmas pudding, read Dickens, Oliver Twist, and never ask for more.
A happy end to this conflict, and we rise a glass to Auld Lang Syne, raising our kilts on the way!
