Nurse Ratched in festive spirits

Good morning. Everyone keeps telling me that it is the season to be jolly and thankful and I agree completely. It was only yesterday that I gleefully watched as an elderly person slipped over on some ice. It is ample punishment for wearing such unsuitable shoes and hopefully they will learn a lesson or two. The replacement hip might be a bit pricey, mind.

Dear Nurse Ratched

I bought the turkey, the vegetables, and the gravy stock for Xmas dinner, but my husband has refused to help with the cooking. He won’t even peel the carrots! What should I do?

Xmas is a time for families so this is the perfect opportunity to humiliate your feral beast of a husband. Swap his sherry for a mixture of lemon juice, vinegar, and battery acid. Then introduce him to Aunt Geraldine, the self-righteous and heavily religious relative you see twice a decade. When his inevitable gurning and spluttering starts she will be offended at what she believes to be an attempt at flirtation; she will be spraying mace in his face and setting off her rape alarm within seconds. The police will take approximately ten minutes to arrive which gives her ample time to slice his testicles into a dozen little strips of ham. If that doesn’t work you should kill yourself.

Dear Nurse Ratched

Every year I drop hints to my husband that I want something nice, cute, or fun for Xmas, yet he only ever buys me pots and pans. One year, he even bought me a Zippo lighter despite the fact that I don’t smoke. What should I do?

We need to teach this awful, awful man a lesson. On Xmas morning make him breakfast in bed and coat each one of his cornflakes with ex-lax and smother his toast with Night Nurse. Lead him out into the garden under the pretence that you have a nice surprise present for him and then leave him in the shed. Within a few minutes he will fall into a deep slumber from which he won’t awake for days and he will be swimming in a quagmire of his own selfish shit the entire time. If that doesn’t work you should kill yourself.

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