"LOOK, Lord," the archangel ventures, "what if one of the three kings gets kicked by the donkey?

"What if Melchior's just about to present his frankincense in the stable then accidentally stands on a rake and gets an eyeful of handle?

"And those shepherds coming to the manager, God; are you absolutely positive we've had them CRB checked!?

"Actually," adds the archangel, "is it really wise sending your only son into a rat-infested, unhygienic, non-NHS world?

"How about hanging on for a couple of thousand years? At present, there's no air conditioning, their only flush toilets are mountain streams and they've got camels for cars.

"Oh, and by the way, Lord, we'd better play down this first Christmas.

"The Romans say they've already a pantheon of gods and don't need another, thank you very much.

"The Jews want an all-conquering Messiah rather than a baby in swaddling clothes, and the other religions aren't too happy either.

"And one final thing, your Highest: give those Adam and Eves of yours down there any excuse and they'll get sozzled, send each other Red-breast Robin Christmas cards that totally ignore you, kill the in-laws in a plum-pudding throwing contest and binge themselves into debt for the rest of the year."

"Well, that settles it, then," pipes up Jesus, emptying himself of his divinity and shrinking into human form, "I'll go and be their saviour even if it kills me."