Sir Guy of Gisborne's Diary

Entry 11

Am I glad to see the back of 1194, an annus horribilis if ever there was. We lost far too many guards, many of them famous, and the sheriff took great delight in saying 'Torture means Torture' on an almost daily basis, which really got on my wick.

After the awful pre-Christmas party (one of the reasons for the spate of guards' deaths), I had no reason to think that my Christmas Day would be any better. However, I am a man who lives in hope, so, after drying myself thoroughly after the apple bobbing game and drinking half a mug of brandy to warm my cockles, I retired to bed hoping to dream happy dreams of wedding Marian and confident that Father Christmas would come calling (I'd dampened down the fire to be on the safe side).

I dreamed that I got the first of the items on my Christmas wish list, namely a look-alike King Richard arriving on my doorstep enabling me to marry Marian. Unfortunately, my dream then morphed into something far less satisfactory – as dreams are wont to do – and the look-alike turned out to be nothing more than a paper mache moulding. As I was walking towards the church, Marian resplendent in black waiting for me inside, it began to pour with rain. By the time the king had been manoeuvred into place to give Marian away he had gone rather soggy and bits of his face and hands started dropping off. Marian pulled off the wedding ring I'd just handed her, knocked the paper mache king's head off and punched me, once on the nose and once lower down. Then she fled the church, throwing her funereal veil away and jumped onto a waiting horse, ridden by Robin Hood and his entire gang (it was a very big horse). Needless to say, I awoke in a less than happy frame of mind, and after that the day got progressively worse.

For starters, in anticipation of waking to find lots of presents at the bottom of my bed, I realised I'd woken up just gone midnight, after which I couldn't get back to sleep (mostly on account of lamenting my failed dream marriage to Marian).

When the sun finally rose and my bedchamber lightened, a servant knocked and handed me a sack. My mood improved. Here were my presents. As I sat on my bed, struggling to untie the rope securing the sack, I thought of the list I'd sent Father Christmas.

What I Want for Christmas

A look-alike King Richard, so I can trick Marian into marrying me as soon as

Voodoo Robin Hood doll, including extra long pins to stick it with

Leather tooling gear

Bag of oranges (not one measly one like last year)

Bag of coal (not one measly piece like last year)

Leather bed sheets (for wet slip-ups)

A teddy bear

Leather man-bag (with plenty of pockets for hidden daggers and emergency eyeliner)

To get inside Marian's knickers (this is a wish rather than an actual item)

A pair of Marian's knickers (next best thing to above), preferably ones that have been worn but not washed

More guards (not really for me specifically, but after the party this evening we're terribly short)

Socks

Here's what I actually got

Embroidered picture of King Richard

Doll (not Robin Hood voodoo doll)*

One blunt scalpel

1 orange

1 piece of coal

A leather pillow

A teddy bear knitting kit (needles and wool provided)