Diclaimer : I own nothing in this story, and it all is a bit of fun, and I mean no disrespect to any of the characters in this at all. This was originally part of A Series of Short Stories but I've decided to post them all individually, mainly out of boredom. If nothing makes sense, then let me know! This is daft and stupid, but I know fine well people have found this funny before! No flames please!

Wireless Operators Jack Phillips and Harold Bride were sitting in the Marconi and Wireless room, feeling very bored. It was a couple of weeks before Christmas, and Titanic was sailing around the Artic. The ship had gotten lost, thanks to a drunk Captain Smith giving out crazy orders. It's always the drunk person.

"This is shite, why can't we put up decorations?" Bride twirled a pen between his fingers as he spoke.

"Dunno." Phillips answered honestly. He didn't know why they weren't putting up decorations. In fact, they hadn't done anything apart from taking messages and sending messages since Titanic got lost. It was the captain's fault. To make matters worse, the wireless room wasn't even decorated!

"Hmmm ..." Bride thought for a moment as a message came through.

Phillips wrote it down and said, "It's the Californian again."

Bride sighed. "Again? What is it this time?"

"Er, 'Fuck off!'. That's it. State of them."

"Hmmm ... perhaps we should warn Fred and Reg about them," Bride suggested, who left them room to head to the bridge. Sixth Officer James Moody was there.

"Excuse me sir," began Bride. What was he going to tell him? Luckily, Moody was an easy-going person and let Bride use the phone when he was asked. He didn't even ask why.

"Phew!" Bride muttered under his breath as the phone rang.

"Yes?" came Frederick Fleet's voice.

"This is Harold Bride. I have a warning. Watch out for the ship Californian. Avoid them at all costs. They're a shower of bastards. Thanks."

Once he was finished, Bride walked back to the Wireless room wher Phillips was battering out another message with incredible force and speed. He was grumbling to himself, and didn't look up or appear to aknowledge the fact that Bride had entered the room.

"Fucked up pricks ..." muttered Phillips as Moody walked in, accompanied by Mr Andrews. "Bloody stupid bastards ..."

"Jack! Officer Moody and Mr Andrews are here!" Bride got up off a nearby chair and greeted them.

"Oh ..." Phillips finished battering out the message. He felt very foolish and hoped that they hadn't heard him. Unfortunately, they had.

"Is everything okay?" Moody asked, trying not to laugh. "Would this have anything to do with the phonecall you made earlier?" he turned to Bride who looked nervously at the floor.

"No," Bride said almost certainly. He didn't like to lie to an officer, but he didn't want to get into trouble, especially when Mr Andrews was around.

"Okay then. Myself and officer Lightoller will be in here later to put up some decorations, okay?" Moddy headed for the door when Bride stopped him.

"Sir, can we help? Please, because everyone else -"

"Sure. See you later," Moody walked out with Mr Andrews following.

Bride did a little dance, much to Phillip's amusement, before saying "Here we go!"

"Here we go what? Them bloody Californian buggers have sent back a reply. Listen to this ... 'Ha ha, you're stuck there sending messages to rich bastards while we're doing it with beautiful women. Ha ha.' Bunch of arseholes," Phillips then threw a pencil to the floor.

"Bollocks. They're lyin'. They'd be sacked faster than you can say 'Christmas'. Believe me," Bride sat down and ended up drifting off into a quiet nap.

Several hours later, when he eventually woke up, he discovered that the room had been decorated. He was so gutted, and hit Phillips with some baubles that were stuck to the wall.

"Hey! I tried to wake you up, but you told me to fuck off!" Phillips insisted, dodging the baubles. "Even Moody and Lightoller tried to wake you up! But no, you told them to fuck off too!"

"Ah ..." said Bride sheepishly. "I suppose it's my fault then ..."

"Yeah well, we'll talk more tomorrow. We're off duty now!" Phillips hoped to cheer Bride up. It did. Slightly. Bride was still annoyed that he was asleep when the deco was put up. He'll be even more annoyed the next night.

The next night, first officer William Murdoch came running in to the room at full speed and clubbed Bride over the head with a stick. Repeatedly.

"YOU FUCKING PRICK!" Murdoch bellowed at Bride.

Phillips cowered away under the desk. He was frightened, because he didn't want to encounter Murdoch's wrath.

"What the HELL were you tinking!" Murdoch was unable to control his rage. He whacked Bride again. And again. And again.

"What did I do?" Bride squeaked, trying to avoid Murdoch's stare or his stick.

"WHAT DID YOU DO!" Murdoch's Scottish accent echoed in the room and outside. "WHAT DID YOU DO! I'LL TELL YOU WHAT YOU DID! I'M GONNA FUCKING -"

Murdoch slipped on one of the baubles that was on the floor from Bride's bombardment of Phillips from the previous night. He hit the floor with a loud thud.

"Fuck it!" he got up, muttering really bad swear words under his breath at Bride.

"Need help?" Bride couldn't resist joking, despite the fact that it may well cost him his life, if the look on Murdoch's face was anything to go by.

"What! Help! I'll give you help!" Murdoch reached for Bride's throat, but was stopped by the presence of officer Moody.

"Will! What the hell are you doing! First you storm away from the bridge in a mad rage and now you're trying to strangle one of our wireless operators! Calm down fucksake!" Moody grabbed hold of the raging Scotsman and forced him down onto a chair.

Phillips whimpered under the desk. He thought he had done something wrong too. Bride looked at him, and so did Murdoch and Moody.

"Jack come out," Moody said in his most soothing voice, although it might be the voice he uses to charm ladies (!). "Right," Moody began, once Phillips had crawled out from under the table and sat on the floor next to Bride, "everyone calm down."

Bride's breathing slowly returned to normal, as did Murdoch's. Moody tried to keep a grin off his face when he saw a large lump on Murdoch's head.

"Will ... if you don't mind me asking, why do you have a lump on your head?" Moody tried to keep a straight face but it was mission impossible for him.

"Fell on one of those damn baubles," Murdoch muttered darkly, giving the bauble an evil stare.

Moody tried not to laugh. He failed miserably.

"It's not funny!" Murdoch said, aiming a swipe at Moody. In all this, Bride and Phillips were silent. But then again, just several minutes ago they thought they weren't going to live to see Christmas.

"Sorry ... ha ha ha ... oh God!" Moody calmed down and continued, "so why did you attempt to kill Harold?" he said to Murdoch, who's face went red.

"Well, I got a phonecall from Frederick Fleet earlier and-"

"That made you want to murder Harold!" Moody was stunned.

"Of course not James, you great bloody spoon. Apparently, last night Fred recieved a phonecall from none other than ..." Murdoch attempted to build up the suspense, and then pointed at Bride," ... Harold Bride! The little bum wipe sitting over there!"

Bride looked at Moody, a guilty look on his face. Phillips giggled when Murdoch called Bride a 'bum wipe'.

"About what?" Moody said coolly. He too, also laughed when Murdoch called Bride a 'bum wipe'.

"Well, Harold and his little pal," Phillips shifted uncomfortably on the floor," were sending messages to the Californian. Rude ones, I might add -"

"They sent rude ones to us first!" Phillips spoke up. He felt braver with each word. "It's true!"

"Ah right! Personally, I don't like the Californian either. Their third officer is a total bastard," Moody said airily.

"Well Fred said that Harold told him to warn one of us if they see the Californian nearby and that we were to avoid them at all costs." Murdoch said quickly. "So, I lost my head and gave Fred into trouble, and called him a dancing balloon -"

Moody, Bride and Phillips burst into fits of hysterical laughter. Apparently, Murdoch's choice of insults are a source of hilarity because they don't seem insulting.

"Sorry sir! You were saying?" Phillips said once Bride and Moody had recomposed themselves.

"Well ... I'm sorry. I made a mistake," Murdoch said earnestly. "Harold, I'm sorry about going a bit mad back there -"

"A bit mad!" Bride looked at Murdoch as though he was a strange looking clown. "You fucking clubbed me over the head with a stick tons of times!"

"Ah yes ... I did, didn't I ...? Sorry, I'd better apologise to Fred too. I'll make it up to you I promise!" Murdoch ran out of the room to phone Fleet in the crow's nest.

"Behave yourselves guys, and make Will's lump on his head bigger for me okay? I need a good laugh, not that listening to him calling people 'bum wipes' and 'dancing balloons' isn't funny ..." Moody smirked as he walked to his stateroom.

"Thank fuck! That was close," Bride sat down on a chair as Phillips took another message.

"Yeah. A bit too close for comfort. Oh bugger!" Phillips moaned, holding a piece of paper with a message written on it.

"The Californian?" Bride took the paper.

"Yep," Phillips looked at Bride's reaction to the message.

Bride laughed. He read out : CQD! Our captain has knocked himself unconsious and we need help!

"Let's rub it in, shall we?" Phillips had a mischievious look on his face, which was then replicated to Bride's face.

To be continued ... possibly ...