For the past five nights Jonathan, B.B. and Jonathan's Chinese pen pal Fu, had been following rumours of a UFO travelling across the bleak moors of the Pennine Hills.
Setting off from Huddersfield they followed the calculated path of the Unidentified Flying Object which just so happened to run parallel with the M62 and appeared to be heading towards Liverpool.
Wearing their regulation tin foil hats (every Ufologist worth his salt knew that tin foil hats were the Achilles heel of any alien that wanted to read human brain waves) they trekked across the moors by night, getting a crick in their necks from looking up too much into the clear evening skies.
Fu had been tasked with the job of getting supplies for the group and carried everything in his back pack, whilst Jonathan and B.B. walked in front discussing the pro and cons of who would win a fight to the death between a Dalek and Cylon.
On the fifth evening they stopped.
The weather reports had guaranteed clear evenings for the whole of the week but right before them stood the big black cloud that hung over the imaginary town called Stockdale.
"Well that's odd." Said Jonathan.
B.B. nodded in agreement.
Fu was too far behind to hear them. Instead he huffed and puffed as the pack continued to weigh him down.
"Come on," Said Jonathan. "Let's get our bearings." And together, they entered the town itself.
Winter festival lights adorned the streets in colours of green and red and white and the citizens of the town ran in and out of the bars and pubs trying their best to find a glass of muled wine that neither cost a small fortune or tasted of warm dog piss.
Being strangers to Stockdale, these three Yorkshireman were immediately ignored by all who bumped into, pushed past and attempted to pick pocket them.
Stockdale was not the sort of place for visitors.
The other downside to not being local was the fact that none of them knew their way around.
They past the tenement flats, known locally as the Seven Sorrows, and the Hat museum (closed 'til Easter). They paid no attention to Mabels Cafe nor to Arnolds Corner shop, both of which were closed at this time of night.
The trio continued walking through the streets until they heard a low scream.
Jonathan, B.B. and Fu ran around the corner and found a tall thin man wearing denims stood over a rather large lady who saw sat on the ground leaning against the wall of bike shed.
"Um..." Said Jonathan who was not entirely confident of the words about to come out of his mouth. ".. Is everything okay?"
B.B spoke up. "Did you hit her?" he gasped. If any of them had known the first thing about Stockdale and those that lived there, they would have known that the women folk of this particular northern town were born punching the crap of people and babies first words were more likely to be "Do you want some?" rather than "Da-da".
A new figure entered the scene at this point, having also heard the scream.
"What's going on? Who are you people?" Demanded the newest character of this tale.
"Um..." said Jonathan, B.B. and Fu in unison.
"A-ha, I don't know what you guys are upto, but if you think you are going to steal my bike, you have another thing coming. I had three bikes stolen this year alone and I won't have it anymore. Or my name isn't Henry Hut!" the stranger declared.
"Wait.. YOU are Henry Hut?" Said Jonathan.
Henry puffed out his chest in pride. Finally, somebody knew his name - it must be from his blog!
"Henry Hut - Truth Wizard!" Henry announced.
"WOW!" said the trio. "I've read all your posts and comments on the conspiracy sites! You're a legend" said Fu (but in a really strong Chinese accent).
Henry tried his best to hide the rising sense of smugness and pride. It's not often you get to meet fans when your audience mostly live in their mums garage and spend most of their days eating whole Pringle tubes in one sitting whilst remaining unemployable due to suspect hygiene routines or lack thereof.
"Thanks." Said Henry.
"Hello?!" came a voice from the floor... "I'm having a Fookin' bay-be 'ere!" it was the woman sat on the floor.
"You gotta help us... I don't know what to do!" Said the thin man in denims stood over her.
Henry asked the man what was going on and he explained that he (Joe Carpenter - for full disclosure) and his girlfriend Maria were on the run for jumping out of a hire van without paying and all the excitement had caused his girlfriend to go into labour behind the bike sheds.
"I don't believe it!" exclaimed Henry.
"Gosh!" Whispered the Ufologist "I can't believe we actually heard Henry Huts catchphrase!" (Nerds are easily pleased that way)
"It's all true.. honest" said the denim clad boyfriend.
"No, not that" said Henry. "THIS!"
Henry had taken the time it took to tell the titillating tale to theorise a brand new truth of the current unfolding events (which was a lot more 't's than anybody was expecting).
"Can't you see what's happening?" Said Henry.
Everybody shook their heads as one.
"Jonathan, B.B. and Fu have come from Huddersfield trying to catch a UFO while Joe and Maria are having a baby behind some bike sheds... at CHRISTMAS!"
Silence fell upon the group.
Henry sighed and spelt it out for them.
"Three kings from the East.... you are all wearing silver crowns and are called Jonathan (king) B.B. (king) and Fu..."
".........oooh!"....." said everybody.
"You were following a bright light in the sky - a UFO that brought you here to Stockdale."
".......aaah....." came next as the penny slowly began to drop.
"Jo and Maria - the English version on Mary - have not paid their taxi's"
This statement was met with ignorant silence.
"Joseph and Mary went to Bethlehem to pay their TAXES!" educated Henry.
"And here we are behind the bike sheds. Bikes being the modern day version of horses which would have been kept in a stable. Plus Joe and Maria have only been going for three weeks - there is no way that he is the father. THIS IS THE SECOND COMING OF JESUS PEOPLE!!!!"
"bugger me!" said somebody although nobody would admit to swearing in front of the unborn king of the Jews at a time like this.
"Wait" Said B.B. feeling he hadn't really been given a part to play in the story so far other than a forced name gag. "What about the gifts for the baby Jesus? We don't have gifts!"
Fu dropped his rucksack and pulled out random items that he threw to his friends.
"What have you got?" asked Henry.
Jonathan spoke first. "I've a jar of coffee.......GOLD blend! yes!" he smiled, fulfilling his part of the prophesy.
B.B. lifted up his item and with as much sense of purpose said. "I have some...... Frank...ing labels"
"They were for posting back gifts to my family back in China" said Fu almost apologetically.
Fu retuned to his bag and rummaged around.
Maria screamed. "It's comin' out! it's comin' oooouuut! SSSSHHHIIIII........." The mother of God she may be, but eloquent she was not.
Henry took the lead and got into position to catch the baby when it "popped out" (Henry had no idea what to do, but nobody else was remotely qualified to hold a baby)
Fu grabbed the first thing he could and held his hand aloft.
"What's that!?" asked Joe.
"It's Myrrh." Said Fu matter of factly.
"Oh, is that what Myrr is? I thought it was a drink." Said Jonathan.
The Myrrh was passed around and made a bit of fuss of as nobody had every really thought about it before. Everyone was rather impressed that Fu had managed to buy some and agreed it was a perfect Christmas present and discussions where had about whether Fu's family actually celebrated Christmas seeing the odds were that they were not Christians.
Fu mulled it over and said that it was not impossible for his family to be Christian as there were lots of religions to chose from.
Everybody agreed it wasn't worth getting into an argument over and handed Fu the Myrrh back.
With that, Maria allowed instinct to take over, screamed the proverbial blue murder and released what came from within.
Which was a huge, ear deafening fart.
Having taken the full force a few minutes past before Henry awoke.
Blackness faded away to reveal the darkness of the night. It also gave a view of Jonathan, B.B., Fu, Joe and Maria stood over him fanning him with cool morning air.
"I guess I shouldn't have ate that Vindaloo Kebab for breakfast." She said by way of an apology.
Morning broke and the group said their goodbyes all went their separate ways. Nobody would ever speak of this night again.
Stockdale was no place for the son of God to be raised...... The anti-Christ though? That's a whole different story.