Frankie and Jamie are celebrating the holiday season by hacking down a young spruce. They note that it’s their first Christmas as a couple… and we all know it will be their last.


Tiff and Sam have kept things biblical and traditional and stripped naked for their Christmas card photo. Tiff is using tiny balls to cover her tiny breasts and a giant bow to cover her special area, while Sam is using a stocking to cover his intimate department. They have enlisted Olivia Bentley to take the seasonal snaps who remarks that “nothing says Christmas like pictures of you and your girlfriend butt naked!” We all know that’s how Mary and Joseph felt too.


Ollie and Binky’s dogs have been forced to wear festive outfits and dragged to have lunch with Rosie and Wheeze. Wheeze is bitching about her boyfriend the robot because she LIKED a photo of another male human being on Instagram or something. The robot’s betrayal sensors went off when she did that, which is why he knows about it.


Whilst out shopping  – for Heidi and Spencer??? – Steph bumps into Mytton and gives him the glad-eye. She is lamenting her loneliness at Christmas and he points out that she is “a little bit like Cameron Diaz in The Holiday”. Just because she’s American and blonde? That’s racist. She then bumps into Victoria who is shopping with her driver because “there’s too much to carry, it’s distracting”. She tells her that Mytton gave her a sexual look – which he really did not.

At the Masonic Temple, Sam has put one pipe away and is blowing on another one altogether – of the bag variety. This is because Jamie and Proudlock are throwing a reeling – which is Scottish for piss up. Akin drops a bombshell – that he fancies Rosie. “I reckon she kisses ear lobes,” he remarks. As expected with Akin, this is all we’ll hear of this and there will be no actual pursuit of Rosie when the reeling happens. She’s probably still not over polyamorous Jules.

At Christmas Mark Francis’ family have seven courses of fish. So there.


Steph is trying to think of a way to come on to Mytton so she asks Toff. “I’ve got a great idea Steph…wrap yourself up in a box!” Toff suggests. Steph decides to take this advice and does just that. Rather than just sit in it, she bursts out and terrifies him instead, a bit like the ghost of Christmas past when he visited Scrooge and tried to shag him.

Wheeze’s robot boyfriend is fuming because he is ‘a man of principal’ and Wheeze extending her finger to the ‘like’ button on social media is practically the same as having sex with another man on top of his emergency power generator in front of him. He is sick of the email [to Alik RIP] and the liking [of the photo of the unnamed person she once shagged]. To express his rage further he provides her with a random dog that has come from nowhere and she is allowed to keep for about 15 hours.


Victoria and Mark Francis are discussing uncouth people at Christmas. “People who decorate in November…doesn’t it devastate you?” they say. Victoria then tells Mark Francis about what Steph did with that box for Mytton. “What district does he live in because you can’t do that around here?” voices a concerned Mark Francis.


Clive Watson asks to speak to Sam about his and Tiff’s relationship. “You’ve come to a fork in the road,” Clive says, hoping Sam will pick the prong that sees them break up so that Clive doesn’t have to ever talk to Sam again. One can only assume Clive has received their pornographic Christmas card. Sam decides, however, to get down on one knee – and give Tiff a key to his house – and a set of days and times that she’s not allowed to come around unannounced.

At the reeling, Steph asks Mytton out, which he says no to. Then she forces him to say yes and they hug awkwardly, before he disappears off to Barbados with Kate Moss’s barely legal sister.


Given that it’s Christmastime, JP and Binky decided to bury the hatchet. Ollie, however, still hates JP and watches on from the balcony above like the Phantom Of The Opera. All he’s missing is a half mask.

Next year’s predictions: Who knows… it might just be THE year of MIC…

– A

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