Madison: I’m about to pack J into a rusty Holden ute and send him into the bush after shoving bells he can jingle where the sun don’t shine.
Harlow: What’s he done now?
Madison: WHAT HASN’T HE DONE?
Madison: I had all the decorations ready to decorate the clubhouse for Boxing Day and he thought they were rubbish and THREW THEM AWAY.
Madison: I mean, he should know by now that I never throw Christmas decorations away.
Madison: I could strangle him. Like, for fucking real.
Velvet: Wait! He didn’t throw them away! He was talking to Nash and mentioned he was taking them to the tip and Nash said he might know someone who would take them. They’re at our place. I can bring them into the clubhouse today.
Madison: OMG this is the best news!!!! I knew I loved Nash for a reason.
Madison: I’m still shoving bells in places that will bring J pain.
Scarlett: How the hell did I make it into this text message gang?
Scarlett: Also, can we shove some bells somewhere bad in Wilder? I know you girls have magic powers. Make that shit happen for me.
Harlow: Scar, you know you secretly love us and have wanted to be in this text group for a long time.
Sophia: LOL, Scarlett, you can’t deny it any longer.
Scarlett: Just make it so Wilder jingles when I see him next. And not in a good way. That’s all I want for Christmas.
Scarlett: And take me out of this group. Group messages will be the fucking death of me.
Layla: I feel you on this, Scarlett. I can’t keep up with group messages.
Layla: Also, Harlow, Blade requested trifle for Boxing Day so that’s the dessert I’ve decided I’ll make. Hope that’s good with you.
Harlow: Perfect!
Madison: Abort! It’s J’s favourite. He doesn’t deserve his favourite this Christmas.
Velvet: What’s with these guys? It’s Nash’s fave too. It’s my least favourite dessert.
Harlow: I thought J loved Christmas pudding the most.
Madison: He did until he fell in love with your trifle last year. And I’m with you, Velvet, I’d rather eat almost anything else.
Chelsea: I love trifle, Layla! And Gunnar will eat anything.
Carla: Girls! Havoc and I will make it in time for Boxing Day at the clubhouse! What do you want us to bring, Harlow?
Velvet: This is the best news, Carla! Tell me you guys are staying for a few days.
Carla: LOL, yes. Nash will kill me if we don’t.
Velvet: Yes, he will, and I might too.
Scarlett: And Madison will put bells where they shouldn’t jingle.
Scarlett: Also, why am I still in this convo?
Harlow: Carla, does Havoc still have that friend who gets those prawns that are the best I’ve ever had?
Madison: OMG YES! We need those prawns!
Sophia: I agree. Bring those prawns!!!
Chelsea: I’ve not tried these prawns but they sound amazing.
Velvet: Honestly, if we have nothing but those prawns for this lunch, I don’t care. I’ve never tasted prawns so good.
Scarlett: Suddenly we only care if we see the prawns, Carla. You and Havoc can just hurl them into the clubhouse on your way through town.
Scarlett: Still waiting to be deleted from this convo.
Carla: LOL, prawns it is! I’ll get Havoc onto it.
Harlow: Right, so I think we’ve got all the food covered. And Madison will decorate. The only other thing we need to finalise are the games for the kids.
Madison: I know just the person for this. I’ll add him to the chat.
Scarlett: Him? Grabbing popcorn for this…
J: Popcorn for what? And why the fuck are you texting me, Scarlett?
Madison: Remember how you stole my Christmas decorations, J? I’ve figured out how you can atone for that and this is it.
J: I thought you wanted them thrown out. You put them where you always fucking put shit to be taken to the tip.
Madison: NEXT TO. I put them next to that pile, not IN THAT PILE. When have you ever known me to throw Christmas decorations away?
J: A man can fucking hope for new traditions. We have so many decorations that it made complete fucking sense to me.
Harlow: Okay guys, let’s focus here. Christmas games for the kids.
J: Christ, how many people are in this text?
Sophia: Hey, J.
Layla: Just a few of us, J.
Chelsea: Hi, J.
Velvet: LOL.
Carla: Me! Havoc and I will be in town for Christmas. See you then, J.
Scarlett: You’ve got no idea of the fun you’ve just stumbled into, J.
Madison: You’re in charge of organising the games for the kids at the clubhouse on Boxing Day, J.
J: What kind of fucking games?
Madison: You know, the ones where the kids all play and have fun.
J: And I get a fucking headache?
Madison: Yes, baby, those kinds of games.
Madison: Oh, I just got your private text, J. We don’t do that here. If you have something to say you can say it to the whole group, baby.
Harlow: I’d really appreciate it if you took charge of the games, J. We’re always flat out with the food so this will free up some of our time.
Velvet: Such a great idea to ask one of the guys to do it, Madison. Even if it came from a dark place where bells shouldn’t jingle.
Sophia: I’ll send you the list of games I had down for this year, J.
Scarlett: Where’d J go? Shit was just getting good here.
Nash: What the fuck is this?
J: Brother, if I have to be subjected to this shit, so the fuck do you.
Nash: What shit?
Scarlett: I see fun times ahead. Grabbing chips and chocolate to go with my popcorn.
Nash: J, why the fuck are we texting with Scarlett? Have you added me to some fucking group chat here?
Scarlett: Oh, no, it’s not just me, Nash. All the girls are here.
J: I’m gonna need those Christmas decorations back, brother.
Madison: Yes, we do need them back, but that doesn’t get you out of this, J.
Nash: Out of what?
Scarlett: It’s with great pleasure that I get to tell you, Nash, that it looks like J has decided you’re assistant team captain of the Kid’s Christmas Games this Boxing Day.
Nash: Can someone please fucking remove me from this group?
Carla: Nash, you could do Christmas Charades with the kids. You used to love charades.
Nash: Carla? Are you coming to this?
Carla: Yes :)
Nash: I vote Havoc to take my place on this games thing then.
Scarlett: Oh, Nash, you have so much to learn. It seems once you join this group, it’s fucking impossible to leave. Pull up a chair and get comf.
Harlow: Focus, people! I’m running out of time and I really wanna get this organised right now so I can move onto the next thing on my to-do list. J and Nash will organise the games, yes?
Havoc: Not sure why I just got your text, Harlow?
Nash: Because you and J are organising games for the kids on Boxing Day.
Havoc: What fucking games?
Carla: At the clubhouse Christmas get together.
Madison: We organise games every year for the kids.
Havoc: How the hell did I get roped into this?
Velvet: It’s your lucky day, Havoc ;)
Harlow: Right, that’s decided then. J, Nash, and Havoc will do games. Three is a good number to aim for. I wouldn’t do more than that. Sophia will send J the list of suggested games. Madison will decorate the clubhouse and organise the salads. Carla will bring prawns. Layla will bring trifle. Sophia’s bringing rum balls, rocky road, and gingerbread cookies. Velvet’s bringing pavlova. Chelsea’s bringing ham. Scarlett’s bringing potato bake. And I’m organising everything else. I think we’re sorted!
Scarlett: One small thing, Harlow. I’m not coming.
Velvet: Yeah, you are.
Scarlett: I don’t even know about it. I’m not part of your club. I just work for Master Wilder in your restaurants.
Madison: Consider this your invitation.
Harlow: I’ll catch you up on everything but you’re definitely coming.
Nash: Don’t feel special, Scarlett. They just want you to bring that potato bake the restaurant makes.
Velvet: Just ignore him, Scar. He’s grumbling because he’s gotta help with the games.
J: This isn’t a group chat where you fucking text all day long is it?
Madison: It wasn’t, but it is now, baby. Merry Christmas.
J: Fucking hell.
Madison: You’ll never try to throw my decorations out again, will you, J?
Nash: This all started because of those fucking decorations?
Scarlett: I’m getting a new number and never giving it to you guys again.
Nash: For once, I fucking agree with you, Scarlett.
Harlow: Okay, we’re done here, people.
Scott: Done with what?
Griff: What’s going on, Harlow?
Gunnar: The fuck?
Blade: I don’t think you meant to send that to me, Harlow.
J: She did. Merry Christmas, fuckers.
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