Which accounts for the hump on the camel...

 

The three camels (well, at least three, there was the impression of quite a few more in the shadows) mooched around for a while outside the stable, in the forlorn hope of finding something to graze, before one folded itself into a sitting position and settled into steady cud-chewing mode, whilst the other two continued to meander around.  Eventually, the second camel wandered over to the first and stood next to him for a few minutes before saying,

“Y’alright Vince?”

“Bearing up, Dirk” Vince replied, laconically, between chews.

“All any of us can do” Dirk agreed, morosely, “just have to keep your head down and get on with it.”

“That’s true” Vince nodded.

“You know what really gets me down?” Dirk asked, rhetorically, “Well, him for a start off” he lashed out with a rear hoof at the third camel who was passing peacefully behind them, provoking a good deal of ill-tempered bellowing. “But, apart from him, they reckon we’re bad tempered but I ask you, right,  who is it that beats us with sticks, yells at us and call us names, eh?  Gives us dog's abuse! Well, camel's abuse, really"

“People” Vince replied.

“Too right, PEOPLE!” Dirk snorted, “you know me, live and let live, that’s me” He went to take a bite out of the third camel, who had made the mistake of standing beside him.

“Yep” Vince agreed.

“We’re faithful, obedient, do as we’re told” Dirk grumbled on.

“You don’t” the third camel pointed out “You do the exact opposite”

“WHO ASKED YOU, Trent?” Dirk screamed at him.

“Just sayin’” Trent* sulked.

“I’m a peaceful sort, but there are times…” Dirk lapsed into a meaningful silence as he settled down beside Vince and spat, forcefully, into the night air.  The globule glistened in the light of the star before descending heavily onto an unsuspecting beetle.

“What do you reckon to all this, then?” Dirk nodded toward the stable.

“Dunno” Vince chewed on.

“I reckon it’s a portent” Trent ventured an opinion.

“A poor tent?!  POOR TENT? What the hell are you talking about, you moron?” Dirk was beside himself with anger, “it’s a f…it’s a f…it’s a flaming stable, you dung beetle.  Anyone can see that!  If it was a tent, it would be made of canvas, wouldn’t it?”

“Or camel hide” Vince observed.

“What?” Dirk’s head swung away from his hated compatriot on his left and stared at Vince.

“Doesn’t have to be canvas.  Could be camel hide” Vince expanded on his theme.

“CAMEL HIDE?? They don’t do that, do they?”  Dirk’s eyes widened remarkably.

“Oh yeah” Vince nodded, “and worse.  You don't want to know what I've seen in the butchers”

"Oh brilliant! No, I probably don't, but you've got to tell me now"

"Heads!" Vince chewed on.

“Heads? CAMEL HEADS??”

“Yep” Vince confirmed.

“Bastards!” Dirk spat, with feeling.

“Wasn’t talking about tents” Trent made an attempt to rejoin the discussion, "I reckon it's an omen"

"A gnomen? Isn't that the thing what sticks up in sundials?" Dirk looked up at the star, then down to the stable and the shadow it threw across the yard, "How the hell are you going to tell the time from that, eh?"

"It's half past eight" Vince said with authority.  Dirk swung back from glaring at Trent, to look at him questioningly.

"How do you work that out, then?"

"Well" Vince shifted a little on his haunches and broke wind loudly, "I've ate, and the shadow's half way past me. So, it's half past ate."

Dirk looked at him for a long time before turning back to Trent.

"Gnomen?"

"No, an…omen.  Summat that foretells summat else" Trent explained slowly for the hard of understanding.

"Like what?"

"How the hell should I know?" Trent replied, with feeling, "I'm only a camel!  Mind you, they ought to be able to find summat out about it" He nodded toward the stable where the wise men were debating furiously in the entrance.

"Them?" Dirk asked, disparagingly, "they couldn't find their own backsides if they used both hands and a compass.  Kings, hah!" Another arc of spit made its way across the stable yard, landing with some force on the balding head of a gent on his way back into the Inn**

"They've got a baby" Vince commented.

"What? The Kings?" Dirk asked, with surprise, "how did they manage that then?"

"No, not them" Vince snorted, "I mean the couple in there"

"Doesn't surprise me, they breed like…breed like…well, people!" Dirk muttered darkly.

"They think this one's a bit special" Vince said with authority, "I heard them talking about it"

"They all think they're special, GITS!" Dirk snarled.

"I reckon that having a star parked over where you're born must mean something" Trent pointed out.

"It means nothing, that, NOTHING!" Dirk screamed in Trent's face, "I could have had a star if me mam had wanted one"

"Get stuffed!" Trent responded with feeling, "When you were born, you had to get up and run like buggery because your mam was going to leave you there"

"I'll bloody have you, you snide twat!" Dirk made a lunge for Trent's throat, but Trent was prepared and leaned out of the way at that precise moment, causing Dirk's face to land in a recently deposited pile of dung.

"Knock it off, you two" Vince said, sternly, "you'll wake the baby and then we'll be for it.  You know, this could be the making of us"

"How do you work that out, then?" Dirk had wiped most of the dung from his face onto his coat, which wasn't really a huge improvement but at least meant he could talk.

"Well, if this kid is as special as they seem to think he is, then he's going to be famous, right?"

"Guess so" Trent responded

"Typical!" Dirk seethed, "Bloody humans, think they're God's gift!"

At this point, the Kings emerged from the stable and the whole business of shrieking, screaming and beating with sticks began again, until the three camels were upstanding once more with their riders in situ.

"Funny you should say that" Vince remarked, as they began a leisurely saunter.

"Say what?" Dirk replied.

"About humans thinking they're God's gift.  According to the bloke on my back, that's exactly what this baby is!"

"You were saying about this being the making of us, Vince?" Trent prompted from the rear of the column.

"You were saying about this being the making of us, Vince" Dirk mimicked sarcastically. "Sycophantic tosser!"

"Leave it, Dirk!" Vince warned, "Yes, Trent, because I reckon that if the baby is going to be as famous as they think, then so will everyone to do with him, like the Kings"

"They would get something out of it!  All they've done is turn up.  We've done all the hard work!  It's the same the whole world over, it's the rich what gets the pleasure…" Dirk grumbled on.

"Well, yes, you're right, Dirk" Vince agreed, much to Dirk's surprise, "but if they paint pictures and tell stories about all of this, it won't just be the Kings, will it?  We'll be there too!"

"Oh yeah!" Dirk cheered up for the first time in living memory, "me mam would be so proud…and me dad"

"You would have to know who he was, first" Trent smirked.

"Right, you bastard, I'm definitely having you this time!"

 * * * *

The Wise Men had only travelled a short distance when they came to an abrupt stop.  Melchior and Caspar's camels stood and bellowed at each other, whilst Melchior's made the occasional savage lunge at Caspar's.

"Balthy, sweetheart, hold on a minute will you?" Melchior implored, "there's something odd going on with my camel"

"Balthazar, you need to tell him to keep his camel under control, it's lethal that damn thing!" Caspar yelled above the din of the camels.

Balthazar urged his camel on, leaving the bellowing and braying behind him from both the camels and their riders.  As he rode, he shook his head despairingly and was surprised to note that his camel appeared to be doing exactly the same thing.

THE END

* You may be wondering about the camels' names.  You have to appreciate that camels are incredibly vain creatures, totally assured of their good looks and winning personalities.  Those eyelashes aren't just for keeping the sand out, you know, they have them curled.  Anyway, their parents are convinced that it is only a matter of time before their offspring make it big in films or T.V., hence the names.

** This caused some unforeseen problems because, when Old Jim went back in and said it was starting to rain, all the other customers laughed at him and pointed out that it was "a midnight clear".  Everyone later agreed that the ensuing brawl was not what Christmas was all about.