Freakie was a little bit weird.
Dressed in a worn out vest, on his head there always was a red plume.

Lived in the dead heart of a mountain, he came down to the town sometimes for buying stuffs.

Children liked him and often asked him to play,
tough Freakie never did that with them.

Freakie didn’t think he was an adult.
Neither a child,he knew it.

In december, the whole town was decorated for the Christmas day.

And every year Freakie sat on the corner of the place, watching those splendid trees.

Listening to Paul McCartney’s ‘Simply Having A Wonderful Christmas Time’.
He played it for 3 times and then went back to the mountain. Every year he did the same.

He believed the synthesizer playing on that song was one of the happiest phrases.
Especially the later half, the short instrumental part always turned him on.

It was when Freakie came to the second interlude, drunk punks picked up a quarrel.

Freakie, after all walked up to where he belonged to.

He felt ashamed of himself
having had no doubt that he deserved the happiness divided at the very corner of the town.

Who could tell that he would ever play that song again…

God, Freakie’s got something.

Do you think I can do anything for that?
How could I give every single creature of mine a happy Christmas.

Oh can’t you…
Afraid not.

10 years have past…
One of the punks quarrelled with Freakie became a popular M.C. ,
and the hardihood in the past is now his favoured joke.

Fortunately or unfortunately,
Christmas comes to everyone.
Happy Christmas.

All the infrastructures should be fair to for people.