SADLY even the most discerning Waitrose customer may be forced to attend a Christmas party hosted by the sort of people who shop at Iceland. Here’s what to expect.
An Iceland shopper’s party will be replete with strange food items such as miniature pizzas in the shape of a Christmas tree that you will be expected to dip in ‘BBQ’, sweet chilli or possibly mushy pea sauce.
Take a resealable freezer bag in case you are required to discreetly throw up.
Raucous party games
Your hosts are likely to eschew Trivial Pursuit in favour of a bawdy, animalistic game of Twister, or maybe just go into the back garden for a few rounds of bare-knuckle fighting.
Working class conversation
It’s unlikely your hosts will want to talk about Goethe or the latest Tate Modern exhibition. Here are some plebeian conversation starters to help you fit in:
● “Why, this microwave doner kebab spring roll is simply sublime!”
● “I hear the football’s doing very well at this time of year.”
● “I share your concerns about immigration. Our au pair never hoovers under the bed.”
A laughably aspirational meat centrepiece
If it is a sit-down meal (heaven forfend!) expect some faux-traditional horror like cheap pork surrounded by ‘salmon and chestnut stuffing balls’ with orange gravy, all of which your hosts will consider unsurpassably ‘posh’. Make it more bearable by pretending you’re taking part in an interactive Mike Leigh play.
Beware of washed-up celebrities
We all pray the only time we’ll experience an Iceland Christmas is on the television, but their adverts make it clear that a D-list celebrity always attends.
Keep your eyes peeled because the evening will be frightful enough without being stuck in a corner with Myleene fucking Klass.