Tommy's Loaded With Ferrero Rocher

SO! It's all over! The tinsel has lost its glitter and the drains have stopped running with puke. OH! Christmas takes it out of you!
Tommy my cat and I were taken to casualty twice. Once to have our stomachs pumped out and then to have sprigs of holly removed from our rears. How they got there is a mystery to both of us.
I was bent over a bucket on Boxing Day when Tommy came downstairs leaning heavily on the banister. Oh, he did look pale. Oh, he did look wan, waif-like and knackered. Tommy came towards me on wee, tiny steps as if he was walking in a minefield. "Tommy," I croaked, "what ails thee lad? What peculiar circumstance has robbed thee of walking in a manner conductive of genteel, society which is demonstrated so professionally and graciously in Downton Abbey?"
"KEEP AWAY!" screamed Tommy. "I am a walking time bomb!"
I recoiled like the spring in a mouse trap and utterised, "Tommy, explain yourself before acute curiosity causes blood clots to form and head posthaste for my heart and leave me bereft of life."
"Yesterday!" yelled Tommy. " I ate 24 Ferrero Rocher. I regret to inform you that all 24 Ferrero Rocher are lined up like bullets in a magazine in my stomach. The slightest jolt could start a sequence of events which could lead to a fusillade of cluster bombs."
"Don't come near me!" I shrieked. "You're armed and dangerous. Keep looking straight at my face. Don't dare point your rear at me."
Tommy sighed and said, "You certainly know who your friends are when you're loaded with live Ferrero Rocher."
"Tip-toe out to the coal bunker," I yelled, "while I evacuate the house and send for the bomb squad!" It took me quite a while to clear the house. I dug in my heels and refused to go. Finally I convinced myself that I would be safer, bound and gagged and tied to a railway track.
It took the bomb squad two hours to disarm Tommy. I don't know what they did, but Tommy is walking funny and has a pathological fear of the coal tongs..
"Biggest in the country!" roared Tubby Nolan, as he lumbered down Bradford Street pulling a giant cracker behind him. The cracker was so long it had a red flag tied to the back of it. Soon a crowd gathered and the usual, good natured ribbing began. "Hey fat boy, your sack should be on your back, not your front. Hey giant Haystacks, have you any rooms to let in your trousers? Hey lard man, give me the crust from your pie."
It took two tractors to pull the giant cracker apart. There was a huge "BANG", a cloud of smoke and out staggered the most wanted man in the world. Higgs Bosum stood there with a black face, his trousers in tattered remnants and roared, " I am NOT the God particle. My name is Higgs Boson. Go away and leave me alone. I do NOT know the secret of a black hole. I am an accountant from Oslo in Norway, who has got caught up in some crazy nightmare!"
Tubby, hitched up his trousers with a complicated system of weights and pulleys and went off singing,
"Always look on the bright side of life."