The other day, after spending three hours organising the vegetables in my fridge by colour, and then realising that I only, in fact, had one capsicum, which was green coincidentally, I came to the conclusion that I was bored.

Thus, in an effort to relieve this boredom, and also to escape the smell produced by leaving the refrigerator door open for three hours, I decided to go for a walk in the woods near my house.

The woods were dark and foreboding as I set out, whistling a happy tune, with a brightly coloured animated bluebird hovering inexplicably over my left shoulder. Nobody had ever come out of these woods alive, but then again, I had never really liked anybody that had gone in, so I wasn't particularly worried by that. A few minutes later, after stopping to have a chat with the headless horseman, and of course Trixie, Pixiebell and their faery friends, it occured to me that something strange was happening.

Looking up, I realised that I had strayed from the path, and stumbled into a part of the woods which was unfamiliar to me. The bluebird had turned a rather duller shade of blue, and was hovering a few feet behind me, reluctant to advance. All of a sudden, I noticed the light floating through the trees towards me. Drawing closer, it resolved itself into a nearly humanoid form. I say nearly, because it seemed human in every respect, but lacked even the shadow of a personality. Rather like Leonardo Di Caprio. The apparition opened its mouth and spoke.
'I am the ghost of Christmas present.'

'I have four things to say,' I said. 'I'm Jewish. It's July. Where's my present? And: Give me my present.'
'I bring you a chilling vision of the present,' he said.
'What present? Gimme, gimme!' Soon we were running and dodging through the trees.
Me yelling: 'I want my present.'
And him: 'Get away from me, you freak!' Shortly, I had him cornered.
'How do you like them apples?' I yelled, throwing said apples at him. Five weeks later, I managed to finally wear down his resistance, which was lucky, because I was down to a pear and a few grapes.
'I give up!' he yelled. 'I give up! My chilling vision of the present is, in fact, a super frosty new refigerator.'
'Excellent!' I said. 'I need a new fridge. When can I get it?'
'It will be delivered next Thursday.'
'During working hours?'
'Whenever it suits you.'
'Excellent.'

The next Thursday, sometime between 12:32:28 pm and 12:32:29 pm, my new fridge arrived, and there was much rejoicing.
It was only then that I realised the only thing I had to put in it was a single green capsicum.