In this YouTube video, Lois Letchford narrates Chapter 11 of Anne Fiennes' children’s story Killer Cat's Christmas, titled “Showers of Falling Food.” The chapter follows the mischievous cat as it sneaks into a house on Christmas day, accidentally flicks gift‑tag labels off the presents, and triggers a chaotic argument among the children and adults trying to identify the owners of the unlabeled gifts. A scuffle ensues when Lancelot attempts to reclaim a present, causing the carpet to lift and the hidden labels to tumble out. At the same moment, Ellie’s mother enters carrying a large plate of tarts and other festive foods, which cascade onto the floor in a “shower of falling food.” The cat uses the commotion to escape, ending the scene with a humorous note of the cat’s narrow getaway. The narration is lively, playful, and conveys the humorous mishaps of a Christmas disrupted by a curious cat.
Chapters
Lois Letchford reading from Anne Fiennes' Killer Cats Christmas, chapter 11, Showers of Falling Food. While I was looking for a way back in, the grown-ups must have cleared away the breakfast things and started to prepare for Christmas lunch. By the time I'd found the only bedroom window that was unlatched and Squeezed inside, the turkey was already stuffed and trussed and sitting forlornly in its tray, waiting to go in the oven. I ask you, honestly! They all go on and on about the way I chase sparrows, but I would never treat a bird like that! Hypocrites! Anyhow, once I was safe, it was safely in the oven, out of my reach. The 4 of them went through to the front room to join the children and unwrap the presents. I had forgotten about the labels. My tail had accidentally flicked away, out of sight under the carpet. Uh-oh! The trouble started almost at once. Who is this gift for? It doesn't say! This one doesn't have a label. Neither does this one, or this. I couldn't help but look a bit uncomfortable. I hadn't realized I'd flicked off so many. The children root around, lifted their heads, and wailed, we've looked at all the presents, but not one has a label! What are we going to do? We'll simply have to guess. That didn't work too well, and arguments broke out. All over. I think this one is probably for me. Oh dear, I think Santa brought that one for Lucilla. That set Lucilla off. But I don't want it, Mummy! I like this present much better! But that one was meant for Ellie. How do you know? I just do, dear. You can't read Santa's mind! Neither can you! We were a little short on Christmas cheer. Then a scuffle started when Lancelot tried to snatch back a present that was— Ellie's father said was not for him. The carpet rucked up underneath his shoe, and there they were, all of the labels. And one or two telltale ginger hairs Aha! cried Ellie's father. Everyone turned to look at me. I turned to look at the door. I don't think it was my fault that just at that moment that I fled towards it, Ellie's mother was coming in carrying a giant plate of tiny tarts and titbits and fancy little things on sticks. I just think I was lucky that In the shower of falling food, I managed to get clean away.
