"All ready to go to the nursing home tomorrow?" his grandma called out to him as she bathed her cats. "They want to hear you sing Christmas carols like an cherub, so you’d better drink up all of the orange juice I got you!"

"But you’ve given me pineapple juice, grandma!" Percy called back. "I thought you wanted me to drink this!"

His grandma dunked another cat into the bathtub and under the water. "No, that’s for the cats Percy! The orange juice is in the kitchen!" She laughed. "Percy, your teacher was right! You are a failure!"

Percy put back the pineapple juice packets into the cupboard and went outside for a walk in the cold, Christmas air. Which was rather strange, as it was summer.

What distressed Percy as he walked was that he could see Man. Man is a guy who Percy had seen everywhere. Percy didn’t know his name, so he simply called him "Man". Now that that’s over and done with, I’ll explain about this "Man" man, who distresses Percy so very much. It all began years and years ago, when Percy lived with his uncle at the other side of Australia. He was in the car, and it had stopped at a red light. The pedestrians all walked in front of the car as they crossed the road. One of them, Percy noticed, was wearing glasses, a silly fringe for a hairstyle, and was carrying a fridge door, one covered in various fridge magnets. Percy mentioned this to his uncle, who quickly dropped him off at his grandmother’s house and never came back.

Now, after quickly being dropped off on the other side of the country, Percy had to live with his grandma, and he still does. Where does this story go from here? Well, listen up. Although Percy was living on the other side of the country, he saw that man again. That… "Man" man.

And he was still holding a refrigerator door.

And Percy saw him holding the refrigerator door at a fruit shop, as he was buying onions.

Now Percy was only eight years old at this stage, but he knew that something funny was going on. Potentially silly, but then…potentially dangerous.

And so the years went on. Percy lived with his grandma, and he saw ‘Man’ at all sorts of different locations. And he was always carrying that fridge door! At train stations, dentists, furniture stores, and even worse, dry cleaners. Percy saw him a lot at dry cleaners, because he always had to wash his grandma’s cats for her.

Percy saw Man a lot, but who was he? It was all well and good for the first seven years, but Percy was now fifteen years old. He had had enough! He saw him everyday with that bloody fridge door! And ‘Man’ never noticed him though, oh no! He just always passed him by! It was…silly!

But enough about that. Percy was upset because as he walked on the street on this cold, summer’s Christmas eve, that…Man walked past again!

That’s all that happened, but Percy was going insane. He couldn’t take this any more! Something had to be done!

But…what?

The following day was Christmas day! Percy looked under the Christmas tree and opened up his present, which was inside a shoebox.

It was a kitten!

"I thought that you’d like it," his grandma said. "I know that you’ve wanted a cat for a while."

"Thanks grandma," Percy told her, and let the kitten loose in the house with the other nineteen cats. "Aren’t you going to open up your present?" he asked her. Percy had bought her an expensive bangle, for one hundred and thirty eight dollars, which he’d saved from working at the shoe shop. He’d recently been fired after he was sorting shoes and accidentally put a slipper in the sports section, an action that angered customers, who decided to burn the shop down.

"Pardon?" asked his grandma.

"There’s a present for you under the tree grandma," Percy smiled.

"Pardon?" she asked again. "There’s rubbish under the tree? Can’t you pick it up, Percy?"

"No," Percy explained again, "See that small box there? That’s your present."

She quickly took the box and waddled outside.

"Grandma?" Percy asked. What was she doing?

She came back a few minutes later.

"It’s gone now, Percy! I know that you were too shy to do it, so I did it for you."

"Pardon?" Percy asked, anxiously.

"Why, I hid it! I’m not telling you where it is, either."

Percy sighed. Last time he got her a present, neither of them saw it ever again.

It was nearly ten o’clock and we all know what that means don’t we! Percy had to go carolling at the nursing home! For some reason, he was the only fifteen-year-old singing. Actually, he was the only person singing at all. That’s right, he had to perform solo in front of all those old people.

Well, soon enough, Percy was at the nursing home, and was singing like a cherub. Soon however, someone threw a box of sultanas at him.

"Boo!" yelled an old man. "We don’t need your Christmas optimism this year, Percy! Be gone, you are a failure!"

"Bah!" spat another old man. "Humbug!"

Percy stopped singing Christmas carols and stood in silence. Why didn’t these old people appreciate his vocalised noise?

"You’re probably wandering why we don’t appreciate your vocalised noise, young man," an elderly woman croaked. "But you must understand…we can’t listen to you, on Christmas Day, when more important matters press on."

"Such as?" Percy asked.

"Pianos," they all replied at once.

Great, Percy thought. Pianos are troubling them.

"Horrible things, they are!" an old man complained as he rolled into the room in his wheelchair.

"You were listening in!" an old lady shrieked.

"And why shouldn’t I? Pianos could fall on any one of us! They’re waiting around every corner, every crack, every cranny!"

"Excuse me, can I go now?" Percy asked them.

"My buddy!" laughed the man I the wheelchair. "Welcome back, Phil!

"No, I believe that you are mistaken," Percy said. "Why, I am Percy!"

"I’m old Harry, but everyone here calls me Harry. Phil, stand beside me and tell me tales. Tales that are interesting!"

Percy walked towards the old man, Harry. It was either stay here with Harry, or look after cats with his grandmother. And she usually got violent at this time of year.

"Hello, uh, Harry," Percy said. The other nursing home inmates stared at Percy in hatred, it seemed. But ‘Harry’ smiled at him in absolute joy, so hey. Hey, hey, hey.

"Tell me a tale, Phil!"

"Well, I don’t know what to say," Percy told him.

"How’d you get that crooked face?" Harry asked.

Percy said nothing.

"It’s okay, Phil, I know that you’re a good bloke deep down. I’ll tell you something that I hate, then you tell me something you hate. It’s the only way to pass the time here," he laughed.

"Bah! Humbug!" huffed a group of old men.

"Phil, never trust pianos. Never! They are the tools of the devil, and I won’t have a small boy like you being corrupted by the likes of them. Stay away from them! Say that you’ll stay away from them, Phil my pal!"

"Okay," Percy shrugged.

"Phil, I’d better explain to you about this piano business. Here at this home of ours, pianos can cause all sorts of damage. Imagine, Phil, that you were sleeping, and a piano fell through the roof and on top of you! You’d be flattened!"

"Okay," said little Percy. He looked out the window, and looked at the hot, Christmas day. He imagined Santa and his elves, all wrapping presents. Oh, what fun! What joy! For a second, Percy thought that he was experiencing the true meaning of Christmas.

"Flattened!" Harry yelled, whacking Percy in the back. "You’d be no more, my boy!"

Percy knew that there was only one thing that he hated. That ‘Man’. "There’s this ‘Man’, Harry, who I see everywhere," Percy started.

"Oh, I see," Harry sighed. "You have to do something before it’s too late. I’m telling you!"

"He carries this refrigerator door everywhere," Percy continued.

The old ‘Harry" gasped. "Then it really is getting serious! Phil, you’re coming with me. Together, we’ll put an end to this ‘Man’.

Percy wasn’t sure about this. It was Christmas, why would he do something so villainous? But then Percy thought. If he didn’t do something, who would? This ‘Man’ would continue to torture any one he could walk past, with that blasted fridge door! No, Percy had had enough. It was time to do something about it.

"Come on, Phil, come on," Harry grinned, and left the room in his wheelchair. Percy followed.

The nurse asked Harry where he was going, and he told her that young Phil would be taking him for a walk.

"Merry Christmas," she added as Percy pushed Harry and the wheelchair outside.

"Up yours!" Harry laughed, sticking up his naughty finger at her. Percy continued to wheel Harry down the street.

"Come on! If this ‘Man’ is as apparent as you say he is, he should be waiting in every bush, every crack, every cranny!" Harry screamed.

"What are we doing, anyway?" Percy asked.

"It’s okay, Phil. You just go along with me." Harry reached his hand behind him and hit Percy in the face.

"Stop, Phil! Now tip me over!"

"No, I couldn’t do that!" Percy smiled joyfully.

"Do it immediately, Phil! Go along with my plan, for heaven’s sake!"

And so, Percy carefully tipped the wheelchair over, with Harry in it. Harry looked quite silly, on his side on the pavement.

"Now, just wait…and watch, Phil!" Harry snarled. Percy stood aside.

And he watched. He watched the toppled old man, who was on his side. And who should come in the distance, but Man. He was carrying a fridge door. Percy’s blood was boiling in anger. How dare he pass Percy by!

Well, the naughty Man man walked towards the old Harryman, and his heart was filled with compassion.

"Excuse me, old man," Man asked. "But you seem to be sideways."

"Please, tot, help me!" Harry asked of him.

And sure enough, Man lifted up Harry and his wheelchair, so that he was upright on the pavement. Harry thanked him by spitting on Man.

"What do you think you’re doing?" asked Man in disgust and just a touch of madness.

"Wouldn’t you like to know?" smiled Harry slyly.

But he did know. Man sniffed, and looked towards a tree. That Percy was hiding behind.

"You again?" Man yelled. "You’re that weirdo who stalks me everywhere!"

"Me? Stalking you! You’re the bloody monkey grandma that stalks me everywhere, you complete and utter bumhug!" Percy yelled in extreme hate.

"Phil, you didn’t tell me that you were stalking Man!" Harry said, shaking his head.

Man frowned at Percy. "Why? Why do you stalk me like this? Why can’t you just leave me and my fridge door alone? Why, if I didn’t know better, I’d say…you were a failure!"

Percy dropped his head in shame. All this time, he thought he’d been the one being stalked. When all along, it was he who was stalking Man! What had he done?

"What have you done?" Harry asked. "Poor Man here is having to go through life being stalked by you. Tsk, tsk. Come on, let’s go Phil."

Man walked past both of them with his fridge door. Percy wheeled Harry back to the nursing home.

"Well, I never!" Harry complained to the rest of the old folks. "It turns out that our caroller here, Phil, is a serial stalker!"

"Ho, ho, ho, Merry Christmas," an old bearded man said quietly. The old man was indeed Santa Clause.

"Phil, this is Santa Clause," Harry smiled. "The pride and joy of our nursing home. He gives us lots of presents every year!"

"Wow," Percy gasped. "The real Santa! Do I get a present?" he asked.

Santa Clause was startled. "Who on Earth are you?"
"I’m Percy," he said. "I thought you knew every child."
But by now, Santa was dead. He was so shocked by seeing Percy’s face that he died immediately.

"Phil, what have you done now?" Harry cried. The rest of the oldsters were crying. Three of them died while crying, actually.

"What’s happening?" Percy cried as well.

"Get out of here, you bally boy!" an old lady yelled. "We’ve all had enough of you! No one here likes you! We all hate you! You’ve ruined Christmas! You-you are a failure!"

Percy dropped his head in shame. He was a failure. How could he make it up to everyone he’d hurt?

"Look, let me make it up to you," Percy stuttered. Percy was an eager young lad and refused to fully appreciate that he was a failure. He still hadn’t learnt his lesson.

"You can all come to my house, and I’ll feed you, and sing for you. And my grandma can wash your feet. And I’ve got lots of cats, that’ll enjoy you!" Percy smiled. He hoped that he could save Christmas. Maybe he could? You never know.

"Well," said a remaining oldster, "I do like cats. Young man, we’ll go."
"Will the nurse let you?" Percy asked.

"She won’t know, she has to take all those dead bodies away."

"Phil, you have one last chance. Who knows, you may save the Christmas that you’ve almost ruined," Harry smiled as he adjusted his wheelchair tyres.

"Help me up young lad," a sweet old lady asked from her chair. Percy lifted her up, and let go. She fell down on the floor and died.

"Percy, you’d better have a nice meal for us. Killing her was not a good move," Harry grinned, shaking his head.

Well, the old people followed Percy back to his grandma’s house. It was quicker than you would think.

"Who’s there?" asked Percy’s grandma from behind the door. Sounds of meowing cats could be heard.

"Grandma, I have some people from the nursing home here, and I’m trying to save their Christmas," Percy told her.

"But don’t let them in the bathroom, Percy. Because that could mean serious trouble," his grandma warned.

"Okay, sure," Percy said. He and four oldsters followed him inside. They all sat around the fireplace, especially Harry. Especially Harry.

"I think I’ll open up a nursery," he said.

"Would you like any food yet?" Percy asked them. "I have porridge and peas."

"Oh, lovely," all of the oldsters generally said.

"I should like to wash my hands," an old lady smiled.

"So would I," said another.

"So would I," an old man said.

"Bah! Humbug!" Harry yelled. "I ain’t washing my frigging hands!"

"It’s just in there," Percy told the three oldsters, and pointed to the bathroom.

Percy thought that he was really beginning to save Christmas. These old people were experiencing the outside world, inside his house! Percy had now felt the true spirit of Christmas. Helping others, and giving them a good Christmas. And by helping others, Percy felt good inside. He didn’t need anything else, just helping these old people was a good enough Christmas present for him. Oh, he felt great.

But there was a scream, like "Aaggh!"

And another "Ooohh!"

And a "Eughhh!" from the bathroom. Percy ran to the bathroom. There were another three oldsters dead.

"You’d think they’d never seen a cat having an enema before!" Percy’s grandma laughed. She had a filter sticking out of a cat with dilated pupils and varicose veins in its paws. Next to her was a bottle of methylated spirits.

"Oh, no!" Percy cried. "They’re dead!"

"I told you not to bring them in here, Percy," his grandma scolded. "Who’s next to die, me?"

"I really have ruined Christmas," Percy cried. His grandma hugged him.

"There, there!" she smiled. "You haven’t ruined my Christmas!"

Percy puffed up his chest. He hadn’t completely ruined Christmas yet. Harry was still in his wheelchair, next to the fireplace.

"You’ve killed them, haven’t you," Harry smiled as Percy walked in. "Oh, Phil, you’re really going to have to work hard to save Christmas. I’m the only one left!"

"I’ll make it up to you," Percy replied. "I will."

But then, the doorbell rang. Percy opened the door and who should be there but Men! It was…Man, but there were six of them! They all looked identical, but this time they weren’t holding fridges. They were holding pianos. Small ones.

"What’s going on?" Percy asked them. "Do you want to come in for dinner?"

"You’re the little scratchy boy who’s been stalking us, aren’t you!" one of them snarled. They charged inside.

"Oh my apricot!" Harry howled as he saw the pianos. "Phil! You led them here! How could you?"

He tried to run but he couldn’t; he was in a wheelchair. Man, Man, Man, Man, Man and Man took their pianos, and in a complicated ordeal, managed to tie Percy to the pianos, all of which were explosive. Then, Man, Man, Man, Man, Man and Man left. The pianos were ticking.

"Now you’ve done it," Harry grumbled as he lay sideways on the ground, in his wheelchair. "Phil, I came here expecting a saved Christmas. But so far, you’ve done nothing but fail."

Percy was pretty frightened though, in fact frozen. He was going to explode! Good riddance, Harry thought.

"Grandma!" Percy yelled. "Help!"

"Merry Christmas," she yelled back from the bathroom. Percy looked at the piano. Then he wet his pants.

It exploded! And lucky for Percy, it was a fart bomb.

"You disgusting little twerp!" Harry groaned.

The fart bomb liquid oozed through the ropes and let Percy free. It was all pretty stupid actually, and Percy still hadn’t saved Christmas.

"Wow," Percy smiled. "I didn’t blow up!"

"You’ve got three minutes before you ruin Christmas, Phil," Harry yelled.

Well, Percy wasn’t exactly Einstein, but he knew that a good Cheesecake could fix up any Christmas, no matter how big or small.

And with that thought, the little rascal ran to the kitchen to give Harry a nice slice of cheesecake. When he came back, he lifted Harry’s wheelchair back up and gave him the cheesecake.

"Well, this tastes nice enough," Harry said quietly. He looked up at Percy’s innocent face. "What is it?"

"It’s cheesecake," Percy smiled.

Harry’s eyes opened wide in shock. "I’m allergic to cheese, you fool!" he gasped, and his face went red.

Percy felt very guilty. What had he done?

"Come here, Phil…" Harry croaked. "Phil, come close to me. Have something to tell you before…before I drop off…"

"What is it, Harry?" Percy asked him, with at tears flowing from his eyes.

"Firstly, you’ve ruined Christmas…secondly, I am going to give you a new name, Phil. One that only a failure could have. You are now called Percy. It means failure."

"What are you saying?" Percy cried.

Harry lifted up his head with one last ounce of strength.

"Percy…you…are…a…failure…" And with that, Harry let his head drop. He too, was dead.

And that, my friends, is how Percy ruined Christmas.