In our second Christmas edition, stuff be a-building. Michael has turned that wee market place into the Rockefeller Plaza with only the help from unspeaking actors and that guy out of Bread, and a confirmed lack of indemnity insurance. Sally takes particular exception to Tim getting married in Vegas and then forgetting about it for a quarter of a century or whatever. Ryan earns his easiest paycheck by delivering an empty envelope to a shortened Lenny while Gary’s stock of furniture isn’t good enough for Princess Maria. It looks like the writers are determined for Rita to have a lonely Christmas. Michelle shows a staggering amount of concern for the Bistro’s employees, Irish Tina, and Tyler, but only for a very short period of time. Elsewhere, Gemma has the biggest pram in Christendom, Hope’s maniac tendencies see her take out the arch angel Gabriel, and Richard’s desire for a glass of water, twice, might just be the death of him. Have a fantastic holiday season, whatever you have planned, and we’ll catch up again in the New Year. Slainte!
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