The Twelve Days of Christmas - Day Twelve

To: customer_service@replicon.com

Date: 24th December 2023

Subject:  Replicator fault

Dear Mr Cochrane

The structural engineer’s dire predictions have come true.

The foundations of my house have had to bear the weight of twelve pear trees, forty Jersey cows (plus 40 hefty milkmaids), thirty-six clod-hopping dancers, thirty inebriated aristocrats, twenty-two bag-piping Scotsmen, repeated inundation by thousands of gallons of water, and two-hundred and twenty-four assorted birds, whose rate of guano production is, frankly, incredible.

Today was evidently the last straw.  The moment the twelve drummers, which were Satan’s gift to me today, began their demonic percussion, the whole back half of the house gave out a weary sigh, collapsed and slowly slid into the flooded basement. In a stroke of monstrous irony, your vile machine, which is evidently made of stern stuff, held up the kitchen ceiling for just long enough to allow us all to escape into the garden unharmed. 

Part of me wishes it hadn’t.

Undaunted, the drummers, pipers, lords, dancers, and milkmaids began their wanton carousing once again and the neighbours – who have borne the daily commotions with remarkable goodwill thus far – finally snapped and called the police once more.

The cows, left to their own devices by the milkmaids (who were busy cavorting with the lords), strayed out into the street, where they occupied themselves by goring Mr Jenkins’s new red BMW.  I can’t think why the cows would target that one car so much.

The last I saw of my wife, she was firmly wrapped in the hairy arms of one of the pipers – an uncouth red-headed fellow by the name of Angus.  When all this is over, there will be words.  

I was gazing around in horrified stupefaction at the little slice of Passchendaele which was once my home and garden when the police arrived.  I have just now returned from five hours of grilling down at the station.  They even had the nerve to call in a psychiatrist! 

In retrospect, perhaps the tears and the rocking back and forth did give them some due cause for alarm.

I am now homeless. 

When all the devastation has been paid for, I will be penniless.

If Angus has his wicked way, I shall probably be wifeless as well.

It’s been a week since I last saw my dear children. 

I haven’t eaten anything but eggs for days (can you IMAGINE the effect on my digestion?) and I have not slept.

You have ruined me.

I hope you’re satisfied.

Yours truly

Edward Meeks

To: e_meeks@freenet.com

Date: 24th December 2023

Subject:  Re: Replicator fault

Dear Mr Meeks

I am so very sorry for your troubles. 

We at Replicon Inc. wish only to make life better for our customers  by providing them with products which are reliable, versatile and useful, and it is not now, nor ever has been our intention to ruin anyone’s life.

Four members of our second-line support team should reach your house tomorrow and hopefully they will be able to ascertain the root cause of the unusual behaviour of your Replicon 2000 unit.

In the meantime, may I personally wish you a happy Christmas.

Yours truly

Gerard Cochrane

Service Manager