The Big Fat Father Christmas Joke Book

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The Big Fat Father Christmas Joke Book Page 1

by Terry Deary




  Contents

  Introduction

  One Christmas Joke Book

  Two Christmas Carols

  Three Christmas Knockers

  Four Christmas Presents

  Five Christmas Crackers

  Six Panto Tickets

  Seven Greedy Gnomes

  Eight Stuffed Turkeys

  Nine Christmas Puzzles

  Ten Christmas Stories

  Eleven Christmas Jokes

  Twelve Father Christmases

  Copyright

  Introduction

  * * *

  Me name is Father Christmas,

  Some call me Santa Claus,

  I’m here to bring you joy, my friends,

  At Christmas time, because

  . . . it’s me job.

  I live up at the North Pole

  With all me little gnomes.

  They can be pests, but stay with me

  ’Cos they’ve no other homes

  . . . to go to.

  We spend the lovely summer days

  Just making lots of toys.

  Then Christmas Eve we dash around

  And give them to all boys

  . . . and girls.

  But winter nights we sit around

  A roaring, great log fire.

  We then tell jokes and stories

  Till our eyes and voices tire

  . . . and we go to bed.

  A happy time we have then,

  With jokes from all the gnomes,

  But best of all they like to hear

  The Father Christmas poems

  . . . like this one.

  One winter night Gnome Gnancy

  Cried, “Hey, Father Christmas, look!

  It’s time we all sat down and wrote

  These jokes up in a book

  . . . for kids.”

  “A great idea that!” I agreed.

  “Ho-ho! Ho-ho! Ho-ho!

  I’ll put in all me funny poems.”

  The gnomes all shouted “No!”

  . . . but I have anyway.

  So here’s a book of Monster Laughs

  And fun for Christmas time.

  (I’d say “For all the family”

  But can’t think of a rhyme

  . . . to go with family.)

  So all the best at Christmas

  Peace and goodwill to all.

  And don’t forget the mince pies

  And the sherry when I call

  . . . at your house to deliver all your presents.

  * * *

  ON THE FIRST DAY OF CHRISTMAS MY TRUE LOVE SENT TO ME

  ONE CHRISTMAS JOKE BOOK

  Hello!

  I’m a gnome and me name is Gnancy. Gnancy The Gnome.

  I’m one of Father Christmas’ helpers. There are seven of us who help him pack the presents and deliver them every Christmas.

  First of all there’s Gnorman The Gnome . . .

  I wouldn’t say Gnorman was small, but he used to be a lumberjack on a mushroom farm!

  In fact, he’s so small that he has to stand on a ladder to fasten his shoe laces!

  Then there’s Gnora The Gnome . . .

  I wouldn’t say Gnora was ugly, but if beauty’s skin deep then she was born inside out!

  I wouldn’t say Gnora was cross-eyed, but when she cries the tears run down her back!

  She’d make a terrible teacher – she has no control of her pupils!

  Of course you must know Gnigel The Gnome. He’s not too bright is Gnigel.

  TEACHER:

  Gnigel! Give me a sentence with the word gnome in it!

  GNIGEL:

  Er. . . the man’s house burnt down so . . . he hadn’t a gnome to go to!

  Then there’s Gnellie. She’s always poorly . . .

  GNELLIE:

  Doctor, doctor! I keep seeing pink and green spots in front of my eyes!

  DOCTOR:

  Good gracious! Have you seen an optician?

  GNELLIE:

  No . . . just pink and green spots!

  DOCTOR:

  I mean, have you ever had your eyes checked?

  GNELLIE:

  No. They’ve always been blue!

  Or Gneil. You wouldn’t be too keen on him! He’s so mean!

  FATHER

  CHRISTMAS:

  How do I stop Gneil being airsick on the sledge?

  GNANCY:

  Put a five pound note between his teeth and stick his head over the side of the sledge.

  And you must have met Gnocker! He’s always on the wrong side of the front door . . .

  Gnock! Gnock!

  Who’s there?

  You.

  You who?

  Yoo-hoo! Nice to see you!

  Father Christmas is a jolly old chap. We have lots of happy jokes around Christmas time. You can always tell we’re having a good time from the noise we make . . .

  What goes “Ho! Ho! Ho! Thump!”?

  Father Christmas laughing his head off!

  We live at the North Pole, of course. Very cold, the North Pole.

  “It’s so cold outside,” Gnora The Gnome said, “that I just watched a polar bear jump from one iceberg to another and it froze in mid-air!”

  “That’s impossible,” Father Christmas said. “The law of gravity won’t allow that!”

  “Oh, I know,” Gnora said, “but the law of gravity’s frozen too!”

  Only the reindeer can stand the cold . . .

  “Father Christmas has two reindeer,” Gnora the Gnome said. “He calls one Edward and the other one Edward! I bet you can’t tell me why he does that!”

  “Oh, yes I can,” Gnorman the Gnome said. “Because two ’Eds are better than one, of course!”

  And as the reindeer say before they tell you jokes . . .

  These jokes will sleigh you!

  So, be warned!!! Reading The Father Christmas Joke Book can damage your brain cells . . . if you have any. And laughing can split your side – but if that happens just go for a fast run. . . you’re sure to get a stitch in it!

  ON THE SECOND DAY OF CHRISTMAS MY TRUE LOVE SENT TO ME

  TWO CHRISTMAS CAROLS

  Everybody has their favourite song at Christmas. What’s yours? Here at the North Pole we have a favourite . . .

  What song do Father Christmas’ gnomes sing to him when he comes home cold on Christmas night?

  Freeze a jolly good fellow!

  But it’s not just at the North Pole where they like their Christmas songs. In Africa they have them too . . .

  GNORA:

  What’s Tarzan’s favourite Christmas song?

  GNORMAN:

  Jungle bells, of course.

  GNELLIE:

  But what about his chimp?

  GNEIL:

  King Kong merrily on high, of course!

  Not to mention the Sahara desert . . .

  GNANCY:

  So, what’s the top of the desert pops at Christmas?

  GNIGEL:

  No-well, No-well!

  GNORMAN:

  The three wise men crossed the desert, didn’t they? What did they sing?

  GNEIL:

  They sang, “Oh camel ye faithful!”

  GNELLIE:

  But what did the camels sing?

  GNORA:

  “All things bright and beautiful, All creatures grunt and smell!”

  G
NANCY:

  They didn’t have camels. They had cars and sang,

  “We three kings of Orient are Driving off in our old cars; One’s a Ford and one’s a Mini, And one is a Jaguar.”

  GNORA:

  Rubbish! What they really sang was . . .

  “We three Kings of Orient are Trying to smoke a rubber cigar, It was loaded with explosive . . . BANG!!

  Now we’re with yonder stars!”

  GNORMAN:

  So what did the shepherds sing, smarty pants?

  GNORA:

  Everybody knows that!

  “While shepherds washed their socks by night

  All seated by the tub

  An angel of the Lord flew down

  And gave them all a scrub!”

  Of course Gnocker had to stick his oar in . . .

  Gnock, Gnock!

  Who’s there?

  Our Wayne!

  Our Wayne who?

  Our Wayne in a manger!

  But Gnocker The Gnome isn’t so amused when people come knocking on his door at midnight.

  Gnock, Gnock!

  Who’s there?

  Carol singers!

  Carol singers! Do you know what flaming time of night it is?

  No. But if you hum it we’ll sing it!

  So do you know the favourite Christmas song of these people?

  What’s a hairdresser’s favourite Christmas song?

  “Oh comb all ye faithful”

  A football supporter?

  “Yule never walk alone”

  Bugs Bunny?

  “Lettuce with a gladsome mind”

  A talkative princess in a tower?

  “Silent knight!”

  Mind you, not everybody enjoys Christmas. Fairies sing this sad ditty at Christmas time . . .

  A fairy has a hard time,

  Up where the tinsel flickers;

  A wand of gold stuck in her hand,

  A fir tree up her knickers!

  And it isn’t just fairies who have a bad time at Christmas . . .

  Oh little town ’neath moonlit skies

  How still we see thee sleep.

  As through the streets and on the roofs

  A hooded figure creeps.

  He climbs down all your chimneys

  He carries a large sack . . .

  He fills it with your valuables

  Then quickly hurries back!

  Now Gnora The Gnome is an awful singer . . . but, alas, that doesn’t stop her trying.

  One night Gnora went carol singing. She knocked on the door of a house and began to sing. A man with a violin in his hand came to the door. Within half a minute tears were streaming down his face! Gnora went on singing for half an hour, every carol she knew – and some she didn’t. At last she stopped.

  “I understand,” she said softly. “You are remembering your happy childhood Christmas days. You’re a sentimentalist!”

  “No,” he snivelled. “I’m a musician!”

  But what is Father Christmas’ favourite carol?

  Father Christmas used to like “I’m dreaming of a quiet Christmas”, but since we got a television at the North Pole he has a new favourite . . .

  “Jingle Bells,

  Batman smells,

  Robin flew away.

  The Batmobile has lost its wheels

  Now it’s a bat–mo–sleigh!”

  ON THE THIRD DAY OF CHRISTMAS MY TRUE LOVE SENT TO ME

  THREE CHRISTMAS KNOCKERS

  Did you know that Father Christmas’ gnomes are afraid of Christmas?

  GNIGEL:

  What do Gnomes fear most about Christmas?

  GNOCKER:

  They’re afraid Father Christmas will give them the sack!

  Seriously, though, Father Christmas looks after us really well. It’s not a lot of fun being a gnome. Especially if you’re tiny like Gnorman.

  GNORMAN:

  When I went to school I was hopeless at sport. In fact I once got lapped in the long jump! Everyone else was captain of the cricket or captain of the netball, captain of the rugby, captain of the football or captain of the swimming team. Teacher made me captain of the embroidery team!

  And we all had a hard time finding a job . . .

  GNIGEL:

  Before Father Christmas gave me a job I was offered work as a clown in a flea circus.

  GNORA:

  Before Father Christmas gave me a job I was a novelist – but I was fed up with being called a “short” story writer.

  GNORMAN:

  Before Father Christmas gave me a job I was a judge – but I got fed up with crooks saying, “These little things are sent to try us”!

  GNELLIE:

  Before Father Christmas gave me a job I used to work as a body guard – to a dolls’ house.

  Gneil used to claim he was small but super-strong . . .

  GNEIL:

  I’m so strong I could lift a reindeer with one hand.

  GNORA:

  Yeah, but where are we going to find a one-handed reindeer?

  But we all have our pets to keep us company . . .

  GNIGEL:

  I have a dwarf elephant for a pet.

  GNORA:

  What do you call a dwarf elephant?

  GNIGEL:

  Trunk-ated!

  GNORMAN:

  What’s that thing on your shoulder, Gneil?

  GNEIL:

  That’s not a thing it’s a newt!

  GNORMAN:

  What do you call him?

  GNEIL:

  I call him Tiny.

  GNORMAN:

  Why do you call him Tiny?

  GNEIL:

  Because he’s my-newt!

  GNELLIE:

  Gnancy, what’s that on your head?

  GNANCY:

  A sausage.

  GNELLIE:

  Is it your pet?

  GNANCY:

  No.

  GNELLIE:

  Is it to make you look taller?

  GNANCY:

  No.

  GNELLIE:

  So what is it?

  GNANCY:

  Why don’t you ask it?

  GNELLIE:

  Sausage? What are you doing on Gnancy’s head?

  SAUSAGE:

  I’m a head banger, of course!

  GNOCKER:

  Have you seen Gnancy’s sausage? It looks like a Father Christmas or a hot dog.

  GNIGEL:

  A Father Christmas or a hot dog! What’s the difference between a Father Christmas and a hot dog?

  GNOCKER:

  One wears a red suit . . . the other just pants.

  And that reminds me. Gnocker knows all the worst jokes in the North Pole! Here are some of the best . . . you wouldn’t want to hear the worst!

  Gnock, Gnock!

  Who’s there?

  Police.

  Police who?

  Police let me in; it’s freezing out here!

  SLAM

  Gnock! Gnock!

  Who’s there?

  I’m just knocking to say your door-bell’s broken!

  I know – I want to be considered for a No-bel prize!

  Gnock! Gnock!

  Who’s there?

  Snow!

  Snow White?

  No. ’Snow place like home.

  You fooled me there. SLAM!

  Gnock! Gnock!

  Who’s there?

  Icy!

  Icy road?

  No, I–cy you’re still at home then.

  Curses! I’m covered in silver paper!

  Covered in silver paper?

  Yes! I’m foiled again!

  Gnock! Gnock!

  Who’s there?

  Wooden shoe.

  Wooden
shoe who?

  Wooden shoe like to know?

  Not really! SLAM!

  Gnock! Gnock!

  Who’s there?

  Carol!

  Christmas Carol?

  No. Carol be parked in the garage.

  They get worse. SLAM!

  Gnock! Gnock!

  Who’s there?

  Ken!

  Ken who?

  Ken I come in?

  Not if you tell awful jokes like that!

  You’ll let me in sooner or later.

  No I won’t. SLAM!

  Gnock! Gnock!

  Who’s there?

  Wendy.

  Don’t tell me . . . “Wendy red, red robin comes bob, bob bobbin’ along”?

  You’ve heard it.

  Heard it? I wrote it! SLAM!

  Gnock! Gnock!

  Who’s there?

  Cook!

  Cook who?

  A cuckoo? In December?

  SLAM!

  Gnock! Gnock!

  Who’s there?

  The famous Memory man!

  The famous Memory man who?

  Er . . . what was the question again?

  SLAM!

  Gnock! Gnock!

  Who’s there?

 

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