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Christophurr the Mystery Boy
by Norma Normal

This paean to the youngest Carter is taken from Old Norma's Book of Improbable Silents, and was contributed to the Fantasy Archers topic on The Archers .

Our Christophurr's a mystery boy, we never hear him speak
He's mostly in his bedroom and he stays there all the week.
He's the bafflement of everyone, the listeners' despair:
For when he's called upon to speak we only hear him stare !

Yes Christophurr's not talkative - well in fact he's rather quiet
A quip, some lip, or repartee - these are things we wish he'd try at.
He just gets on with homework while Neil and Susan fuss
And if he has a private life, well he's not telling us !
We can speculate and gossip and complain he is a wuss -
But I tell you once and once again that he's not telling us !

Now Christophurr is seldom seen, and he is never heard;
He has his tea and goes upstairs to his room without a word.
We're not sure what he looks like (but he's short and fat we think);
He may be friends with Dorothy (he wears a lot of pink).
He won't eat nettles, brawl or spit, he wears his hair in curls;
His shirts are often gaily checked, and he shakes hands with girls.

It's such a mystery Christophurr, the fact you never speak on air -
Much as we love your silences we need to know you're really there;
Some think you're held against your will. But I question should we care -
If you're being held a prisoner, or you're tied up to a chair ?

Some say you're such an ugly boy you'd give us all a fright
And so in order to protect us you're kept from hearing's sight.
And when a goat goes missing some suspect your interference
Just as they did with Demeter, and Ginger's disappearance.
But although you may be mentioned we know you'll be keeping schtum -
Ay, there's the wonder of the thing ! you're upstairs in your room !

Our Christophurr's not talkative, he only uses text,
We'd like to know why this is so, as it makes us rather vexed.
So Christophurr, we'd like to hear some speech or conversation,
Please talk or chat, or have a spat with friend or with relation.
However bad the secret you're reluctant to reveal
It can't be worse than being the son of Susan and of Neil:
We'd prefer you were not racist as we went through that with Roy,
Although you could be a Christian or perhaps a ladyboy.

Oh Christophurr, our Christophurr, there's no one like you Christophurr,
I tell you there's no silent one that any listener could prefer.
We know you'll have to come downstairs within the next few years,
Meanwhile we're by our radios with bated pinned-back ears.
And though Higgs and Freda, Titcombe, Declan, Graham and Jean-Paul
Are all silent and exciting, I can guarantee that all
Spats will be forgotten and a hold be put on flounces
One future day at sev'n o'clock when Christophurr pronounces.

More parodies - from Agatha Christie to Damon Runyon