WELL, how about this for a heart-warming festive tale?

A story to warm the very darkest depths of the coldest soul this Christmas?

A timely illustration of how society remains a caring, sharing community where people are happy to pass the time of day or say hello to a fellow man?

Or not. As you might have guessed by the sarcastic tone.

You see, the little scene I'm going to tell you about is as far from that homely, straw-strewn stable in Bethlehem as you could possibly try to get and about as festive as war-torn Beirut.

It almost turned into war-torn Beirut if I'm honest. I thought for one moment I might be killed, that it might turn even uglier than it already was and that blood may be shed.

Now I look back it wouldn't have been mine though. 'Cos I was furious, let me tell you.

It all began this time last week when I finally took the plunge, had a day off and decided to get into the spirit of things, Christmas that is. You know, I actually went out and bought some presents, chucked a seven-foot tree on the back seat and pulled the decorations out from under the stairs in a burst of festive energy.

And there I was, festive little gnome, Santa's little helper, whatever you want to call me, when the phone rings and a friend saves me from my man-made grotto with an invite to tea.

Five minutes later she was at the door, the garland that refused to stay on the mantelpiece was discarded on the floor and away we went. Only, what we didn't realise was that there was an emergency somewhere that meant all traffic had to give way to a sports car that was coming along Grane Road to Blackburn. Thinking back, I don't know why we didn't instantly realise there was a life or death situation somewhere from the way he zoomed up to the back of our car and flashed his headlights furiously like he was on Top of the Pops.

We really should have known he was in a hurry and got out of the way. Only we didn't because, frankly, people speed up the road all the time.

Well, not to worry, or so we thought, as we made our way 100 yards along the road to a local pub for tea. Only as we pulled into the car park so did Mr sports car. My first thought was that he obviously wanted to compliment my friend on her safety conscious driving because he was so keen to have a word that he actually opened her door -- after making sure we had to talk to him by blocking us into the space first, of course.

Well, I was furious. He was furious. My friend was terrified as he loomed over her in the driver's seat. He shouted. I shouted back. And I must admit, I thought one or both of us would be found dead in a pool of blood.

But no. We lived past the ear-bashing she got for allegedly not indicating to pull out into the road.

It actually transpires that we had nothing to fear, 'cos he left as soon as I informed him I had his number and that I would phone the police if he didn't back off.

He fair shifted at that point he did. In fact, I'd swear he was over the speed limit again.

Hope he got to wherever he was in such a rush to get to. Hope he doesn't come back to be honest. Merry Christmas anyway -- and goodwill to all men eh?