WELL, I don't know about you, but I'm more stuffed than a whole flock of turkeys. Did you have a cool Yule? You did. Good.

Our family exchanged gifts on Christmas night. I gave she-who-must-be-obeyed an orange and a plastic whistle. She bought me a nice leather suitcase.

No expense spared. Isn't that kind?

I know, I know . . . some of you might think she's trying to get rid. As if.

Anyway, there she was, filling up my favourite pewter bucket with finest tawny port when I noticed a puzzled look on her curiously wizened, shrew-like countenance.

With her good eye turning up skywards, the glass one inwards, she squawked: "So what are your predictions for 2003, Olde Phillpotte?"

"Patience, my child," I croaked, pork scratching fragments rolling down my smoking jacket and on to the rush matting. "Olde Phillpotte must wait for the sign."

The room suddenly darkened and the candles flickered, as if some unknown force had entered the east wing of Dun Subbin. A distant bell tolled.

Faintly at first, then growing in volume, came the sound of music from the wildwood. Olde Phillpotte gently put his port bucket down on the sofa, gathered his dressing gown around him, and walked up the stone steps to the east battlement.

He stared out into the snowy wastes, gimlet eyes searching for signs of movement. There was not long to wait . . .

Yes, he could see it. Out there, in the gloom. Yes, yes - there it was! The time had come.

It was the Phantom Banjo Player of Battenhall. Olde Phillpotte knew there was work to be done.

January. Plans for the relocation of Worcester City Football Club are modified "to take into account attendance levels". Instead of the proposed 6,000-seater stadium located off Swinesherd Way, as originally envisaged, a new pitch will be created in the back garden of Joe Walter's house in St John's. The enabling development will include a state-of-the-art potting shed. A gazebo big enough to accommodate the entire club membership will provide shelter during inclement weather.

February. The Government announces that the Worcestershire Airport will go ahead, after all. The news is welcomed by business leaders who live nowhere near this area. The proposed development will involve the demolition of Upton Snodsbury, Drakes Broughton and Pershore. Bredon Hill will be levelled and the River Avon culverted from Stratford to Tewkesbury. Displaced residents will be rehoused in a gigantic transit camp on Throckmorton airfield.

March. A team of consultants unveils plans to prevent the Severn flooding. The bold new scheme advocates a 40-ft wall being built either side of the river, from the Camp Inn at Grimley to Severn Stoke. Although the water level would actually be higher than adjoining riverside homes when the river was in spate, residents will be perfectly safe. The only drawback is that Bristol may have to be relocated to the Black Mountains in order to avoid inundation.

April. A dust-covered plectrum found in the crack of a pavement near the former Gaumont Theatre, Worcester, is confirmed as having belonged to the late rock star Buddy Holly. Veteran Evening News reporter Michael Grundy, who covered the American legend's Worcester concert in 1958, told police: "Yes, it was a fab gig packed with negro-style jive rhythms. I have all his platters - Des O'Connor's, too."

May. There are quite a few surprises as Worcester goes to the polls. The Independents make substantial gains, but the biggest shock is in All Saints when an iguana preserved in formaldehyde romps home for New Labour. A spokesman tells reporters: "We were thinking of fielding a stuffed parrot but one of the flippin' legs dropped off. Still, it's a good result for us and sends a clear message to Outer Space".

June. Huntingdon Hall director Chris Jaeger has a vision while walking his pet gerbil Raymond across Diglis Playing Fields. Saint Bob Geldof appears in a clearing by the sandhills and tells the roly-poly impresario that he has been chosen by a mysterious group known as the Sons of Odin to rescue Worcester's ailing Swan Theatre from oblivion. "OK, I'll do it for two pork baps with double fried banana and a jumbo-sized knickerbocker glory," replies the showbiz supremo. Police searching for the missing gerbil say they are "concerned".

July. A youth diving off Worcester's Sabrina Bridge during the hottest July since records began, is eaten by a giant pike. Professional match fisherman and part-time MP Mike Foster is brought in to capture the leviathan. Meanwhile, the 30-ft fish is sighted by Evening News weatherman Paul Damari near his Barbourne boathouse. Foster is optimistic. "I'll be using a waggler, three dust shot, and a size 20 hook baited with double maggot. That should do the trick," he says. Mike Foster is 17.

August. The George Cowley Experience celebrate their first number one record by staging an open-air concert on Pitchcroft. Numbers featured include The Wind Cries George, Third Clone From The Sun and Electric Crazyland. The event passes off peacefully, but four people are arrested for being miserable and a woman from Aston Somerville gives birth to a baby boy - to be named George.

September. A spaceship from Sirius B constellation, mistaking lights near the fountains for an airstrip, land near Brown's restaurant, South Quay. A number of students from the technical college are caught unawares on the riverbank as they eat rubbish and make grunting sounds. They are abducted and subjected to various tests. The students are later returned unharmed and the visitors depart - having concluded that there is no intelligent life on Earth.

October. The long-awaited supermarket, built on the site of the former Elgar Birthplace at Lower Broadheath, opens at long last. Originally delayed by communist subversives opposed to the far-sighted project, the 20,000sq ft complex can be seen from Space, along with the Great Wall of China and Chris Jaeger's Sunday lunch. The adjoining Dream of Geronimo theme park proves popular with youngsters.

November. Terrorists succeed in blowing up the Lychgate multi-storey car park, in Friar Street, Worcester. A group calling itself The Spetchley Road Liberation Front claims responsibility. Security is immediately increased outside other major architectural treasures throughout the Faithful City. These include the Georgian-style warehouses on the new Tallow Hill development and the post-Romano-British influenced Tybridge Street flats.

December. While yobs throw their rocks by night all seated on the ground, the Angel of the Lord comes down to Cranham Drive, Warndon, and brightness is all around. "Surely this must be a sign", says Darren Thicke, aged seven, to fellow shepherd Dean Planke, 19. A glowing apparition then appears in the heavens. It is the Angel Layland, descending a glowing ladder, stretching from sky to earth. "I bring peace and goodwill to all men," says the Angel Layland. The errant shepherds fall to the ground in supplication, vowing to forsake their wicked ways so that the Christmas spirit can once again return to the highways and byways of Warndon.