which was all very well
but it was now nearly six o'clock
and the shops were absolutely rammed
because it was Christmas Eve -
at least it would be in a few centuries
once the annual festival of Christmas had established itself -
and quite frankly, he was tired and fed up
having had one hell of a journey
just getting himself to Bethlehem
what with the saddle rash
and the traffic on the ring road outside Damascus,
and the neck ache from looking up at that star all the time,
and losing that ruby out of his best crown,
and that slightly superior air
Caspar and Melchior would always show towards him
which made him feel like a dullard,
and the fact it had taken him so long to park his camel
that most of the shops had started to close,
and that he kept on losing his bearings,
he'd walked down this street maybe three times already
yet he was still non the wiser,
and neither was he any closer to getting some myrrh
and talking of which,
wjat the hell even was stupid myrrh, anyway?
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