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A Zepmas Carol

<cut to a section of London around Christmastime, as Jimmy Page walks 
down the street>

<pedestrian> Merry Christmas Mr. Page!

<Pagey> Piss off! Humbug!

<pedestrian> touchy today, Mr Page?

<Page> It's just this bloody Christmas crap! Everybody's so
bleedin'.......merry. Got a cigarette?

<pedestrian> No sir, but have a pleasant day, sir.

<Jimmy> Yeah, right. Hope ya choke to death.

<Pagey scowls and walks away to the studio>

<Robert Plant> 'ello Jim, how are ya?

<Page> Not good, let's just get on with it, eh?

<Robert> You weren't thinking of recording *today* were you?

<Page> An' bloody why not???

<Robert> Because it's Christmas Eve, Jimmy!

<Page> Oh Jesus! Not you too!!!

<Robert> But *certainly* you are celebrating Christmas this year!

<Page> Humbug!.........got a cigarette?

<Robert tosses Jimma a pack of Marlboros and storms out the door>

<Jimmy> What is it with this Christmas stuff anyway? It looks like
another way for retailers to make money. And me, with no more
unreleased tracks to package up as "stocking-stuffers", HUMBUG!!!

<Jimmy puts out the cigarette, and falls into a deep sleep>

<all of a sudden, Jimmy is awakened by a slap to the jaw>

<The Ghost of Peter Grant> WAKE UP, ya silly twit!!!

<Jimmy> Wha....? You're DEAD!!!!

<Peter's Ghost> Yeah right. So what? You still owe me royalties!

<Jimmy> But....but....you can't be real! You're just some figment of
my imagination! Maybe something I ate, an undigested piece of beef. Or
a flashback from that great yellow blotter acid I got from Jim
Morrison back in 69!

<Peter> Shut up and listen to me, asshole! You're gonna get three
visits tonight from three different spirits. Listen to them, or we'll
talk about those royalties again. Got it?

<Page> Yeah, right. Got a cigarette?

<Peter's ghost> No Pagey, we only smoke turds in Hell.

<Page> Well, believe I'll pass then...

<Peter's ghost> I thought so.

<Peter's ghost disappears into thin air>

<Jimmy finds himself waking up from a dream, in his bed>

<Page> Whew! What a dream! I thought it was real there for a moment!

<a voice suddenly booms from across the room>


<Jimmy whirls around to see none other than, the ghost of John Henry

<Page> BONZO!!!!!!

<Bonzo> 'Ello mate! Got any beer?

<Page> No mate! But we can call room service!!! How have you
been?.....er, considering you've been dead and all?

<Bonzo picks up the TV and tosses it out the window>

<Bonzo> Man, I've been dying to do that for a while now! I've been
good, not many bars in Heaven though. That's part of the reason I'm
here. I'm the "Ghost Of Christmas Past".

<Bonzo> Here, grab hold of me finger.

<Page> You're not gonna fart, are ya?

<Bonzo> No, damn it! We're gonna fly to the Past.....it's in the

<Page> Oh, OK...

<Bonzo and Jimmy fly to LA around 1969 as Led Zeppelin plays a set at
on of the small clubs they enjoyed in the old days>

<Page> Wow! That's us!!!!!! We were really "on" that night!!!

<Page watches himself do Comm. Breakdown effortlessly>

<Bonzo> Those were the days, right?

<Page> You bet!!! I miss it!

<Bonzo> Remember what happened later on that night?

<Page> No Bonzo, what?

<Bonzo> Just watch.....

<the young Page gives a couple of fans some guitar picks and motions
for a groupie to go backstage>

<Bonzo> You really made some people's night, right there.

<Page> Yeah, now I remember! I was giving out "gifts" to the fans!

<Bonzo> Pull my finger again, Pagey.

<Jimmy grabs Bonzo's finger, Bonzo then lets this HUGE fart>

<Bonzo> HAR HAR!!! Gotcha! Later, mate!

<Jimmy wakes up again in his bed, with this funny odor in the air>

<Jimmy> Whew! Was that a dream too??? If it was it sure stinks!

< another voice comes from across the room >

<Willie Dixon> Yeah man, it's those pickled eggs!

<Page> Willie!!!!! What up, man!???

<Dixon> Not a *damn* thang! You still fuckin' around with dat

<Page> You know it!

<Willie> Still rippin' Mufuckahs off???

<Page> uh.......no. <ahem> <coff coff>

<Willie> Well, you remember dat shit. Now, I be the ghost of
Christmas Present an' shit, so ya gots to hang wit me fo a while.

<Page> Ok, I guess....

<Dixon> Grab a holt of my finger, man.

<Page> Oh no! Not again!!!

<Willie> Dammit, I ain't gonna be doin' no fartin' like that Bonham, I
gots mo class.

<Page> Awright then....

<Willie and Pagey whisk away to the home of John Paul Jones>

<Page> Hey! It's Jonesey!!!!

<Willie> Shutup fool! Listen!

<JPJ> Here's a toast to Jimmy, even though he didn't invite me on the
tour *or* the No Quarter sessions, I still consider him a friend!

<Page> Wow, I thought he was pissed at me....

<Willie> Well, I guess you figured wrong!

<Willie and Pagey whisk away to America, where they arrive at the home
of an average DG Zephead>

<Zephead> Wow man! Wouldn't it be cool if we could like send Jimmy
Page a Christmas present??? huh huh huh!

<2nd Zephead> Yeah! We could like send him a guitar strap or
something! That would rule! Heh heh!

<Zephead> Yeah! Huh huh huhe huhe...uuuuuh.. heh heh huh huh!

<2nd Zephead> Hmm hmm hm heh heh heh huh hmm!

<Page> <sniff> they still love me....

<Willie> You bet! You got *almost* as many fans as me! Grab my finger

<Page grabs Willie's finger, as Willie cracks off a big ole stinker!>

<Dixon> HA HA HA HA!!!! Gotcha! Bonzo told me you'd fall for that

<Jimmy wakes up again in his bed sweating and woozy from the "funk">

<Page> Damn, what do they *feed* these dead people???

<all of a sudden Jimmy feels a cold wind, and turns around to see a
ominous figure, dressed in a shroud and unable to see the face>

<Page> A-a-are you the last of the spirits?


<Page> I take it you are the ghost of Chrismas Future?


<Pagey> O-o-ok, I g-g-guess you are. Got a c-c-cigarette?


<the spirit hands Page a business card that reads "this Spirit
sponsored by the Phillip Morris Co.">

<Page> Uh, .......ok, I think I'll quit, thank you.

<the spirit holds out a bony finger for Page to grab>

<Page> Oh no! Not again!


<Page> Oh, o-o-ok!

<the spirit whisks Jimmy away to a room of a hotel not far from

<Page> where are we?

<the spirit says nothing as he points to the bed>

<hotel maid> Yeah, I heard that a pretty famous person died in here
last night.

<2nd hotel maid> Really? Who was it?

< hotel maid> I don't know, they said he was an asshole though.
Didn't like Christmas or nothin' just liked money.

<2nd hotel maid> Damn shame. Think we can sell these bedsheets to his

<hotel maid> Hell yeah, grab 'em, he ain't got no use for 'em!

<all of a sudden Jimmy and the spirit find themselves in a cemetary in
England. As the spirit points to a headstone>

<Page> No! Take me home! I've seen enough!

<the spirit continues to point>

<Page> Before I look, spirit, tell me, are these the things that
*will* be? Or are these the things that *may* be?

<the spirit continues to point, as Jimmy walks forth and reads the
inscription.............it reads, James Patrick Page>

<Jimmy falls to his knees and starts crying>

<Page> Oh please spirit, take me home! I'll change! I'll be

<the spirit extends his bony finger once more>

<Jimmy grabs the bony finger as the spirit lets a massive, dusty fart>

<Spirit> HA HAHA HA HAHA HA HA!!!!!! They said you'd fall for it!!! I
didn't believe 'em!!! HAHAHA HAHA HA HA HA HA!!!!!!!

<Page> Dammit!!!

<Page wakes up in his bed once more, with the sun streaming in>

<Page> I-I-I'm here!!!! Heh heh! I'm alive!!!!

<Pagey runs to the window and shouts down to a drunk in the street

<Pagey> What day is it?!!!!

<Drunk> How the Hell should *I* know???? I'm drunk!!!!

<Page then directs his attention to a more sober pedestrian>

<Pagey> Sir! What day is it????

<pedestrian> What day is it??? Why, it's Christmas Day, sir!

<Jimmy> I haven't missed it!!!!! It's Christmas!!!!!!

<Jimmy then picks up his cellular phone and dials a number>

<Jimmy> Hello? Is this Trinifold? Yes, this is Jimmy Page, tell
management that I have some new stuff to release! Call Scarlett and
tell her to open the vaults, because I'm gonna release a "Live Boxed
Set"!!!!! It'll be my Christmas present to EVERYONE!!!! And could you
order Robert one of those Chia Pets? Ch-Ch-Ch-Chia!!!! And please call
John Paul Jones, and tell him I'd *love * to get the old group back
together again! And could you also buy out Michael Lee's contract with
'Echo And The Bunnymen'? Great, thanks!

<Jimmy hangs up the phone, and dashes out into the street flinging
soundboard cassettes to eager Zepheads around him>

<Pagey> God bless us, EVERYONE!!!!!! MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!!!!!

Best Regards,

Jeff Strawman
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