Plechazunga

Stave Four

But no sooner had one spastic Spirit left, than another took his place.

Slabberneezer had already noticed the new date – December 24, 2025. “Yes, yes,” he snapped, “You don’t need to tell me. You’re the Spirit of Christmas Yet to Come.”

“Also known as “The Spirit of Sincher’s Missus,” said the Spirit, “…but my real namez torres’_son4ManU0.36794, n im here 2 tell u bout t fucha.”

“Hang on, weirdo,” said Slabberneezer, “How come the Mods let you post that gibberish?”

“evry1 talx ths way now,” he splurged, “all t modz v gon. niall shot himsLf wen he saw wot hed cre8ed, gb axidently band himsLf, marchin died ov old age durin an argumNt wiv djs n borin, yaps got gund down by mcvitEz, wibz Bcame a priest, liz Bcame a nun, liv got nikd 4 stalkn ole, n bury got tragicly e10 alive by 1 of hiz longa postz."

Indeed, a quick look around revealed that all the old faces had gone too. The only regular he recognised was Davo, still making out he was too cool for the Caf, but nevertheless online, calling people spastics, whenever he had a free moment…to the despair of his wife, his fish Plechy, and his grown-up children, Newbie, Smilie and General.

“yeh all thm pEpl v lFt da 4m,” said the Spirit, “thy cudn take it no mo.”

Twenty years on, the entire site had now been subsumed by the Transfer Forum. There was little discussion of anything else, although there were a fair few threads about whether Fergie should’ve sorted out the midfield by now.

“And what became of Tainio Tim?”

Here the Spirit became melancholy, and maudlin, and let a single tear roll from his eye, by putting up a gay weepy smilie.

“im afr8…sob…t-t-tainio tim…wont b cumin home diss xmas.”
“Why not?
“he died.”
“How???”
“stung 2 death by Bz.”
“Bees??? Nothing to do with the Caf, then?”
“no…jus Bz Bin Bz.”
“I see.”

The clock struck three.

“rite, I gotta go,” said the Spirit of Christmas Yet to Come.
“l8ter, u g8ard,” replied Slaberneezer.

And with no amazement whatsoever, he found himself back in his flat, in front of his computer…where he’d been all the time, posting on the Caf. What a night it had been! Slabberneezer would never be the same again - and neither would Christmas. He had seen the Future, he had seen the text-speak, he had seen what a crime it is when life is frittered away on frivolities. Truly, Slabberneezer was a changed man.