Thread by @NotJonMollison

Imagine:
A group of buds sitting around the fire on a chilly night.
Their charges have settled in for the night, and they gaze down a mountain valley to the bright, warm lights of a small village.

It looks warm down there.
But it's nice here, too, in it's own way.
Hard, honest work, with hard, honest troubles. 
Not like the worries down there.
They talk of money problems.
Pressure from the wife to live beyond their means.
Will it be a good year for the price of wool?

They talk of politics, of the pros and cons of the ruling class - men not of their own nation.
Someday, maybe, they'll have a king of their own.
A real king, not like the puppet that sits on the throne today.

Can't even manage a simple census without turning the country into a mad house.
Still, renting out the kid's room means bringing in a little extra money this year.
And with the crowds down there, it feels a little nicer up here.

Until the shadows begin to growl.
Twin beads of light blink around the fire, and the men grab staves.
Dozens of them, snarling. They ignore the sheep, and prowl just outside the light of the fire.
The sheep remain unfazed.
An ominous sign.

Backs to the fire, the men swallow hard, prepared to fight for their lives.
When one of them points out a strange light in the sky.
Voices on the wind.
And the wolves begin to whimper.

The wolves slink away as the light grows stronger.
The murmuring voices that surround them resolve into music. Chords and harmonies that emanate from everywhere and nowhere.
An ancient tongue, a dreadful promise of change.
The light grows blinding.

Then fades away, leaving a child dressed all in white.
Her hands lift, palms open, and the men fall back.
She speaks, in a low voice that echoes down through all of creation.

"Be not afraid."

"Behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy. For, this day, is born to you a Saviour, who is Christ the Lord, in the city of David. And this shall be a sign unto you. You shall find the infant wrapped in swaddling clothes, and laid in a manger."

We get a king-sized monkey or a giant robot punching radioactive dinosaur movie every year, but we've never seen a decent depiction of "a multitude of the heavenly army, praising God, and saying Glory to God in the highest; and on earth peace to men of good will."

I like giant monkeys punching giant dinosaurs as much as the next guy, but come on.

Anway, the angels depart and the bros are like, "Umm, did you just see that? It wasn't just me, right?"

"I guess we gotta go down into town."

"What about the sheep?"
"What about the wolves?"
"What about the wife?"

They can't just pack up and walk five miles into town. It's crowded down there, and how would they even find the right manger?

One points at the sky.
"Yeah, I don't think that's going to be a problem."

So they gotta talk their way past the town guards.
Nobody comes in a night.
Then they gotta deal with crowds.
None of whom can see that blazing star overhead, trapped as they are in their own petty squabbles.

An encounter with one of their wives.
"Why aren't you up on the mountain!? I'm out here running errands for some rich tourists and you bums are out...what, drinking? What the heck?!"

It's a little hard to explain.
The men get saved by the passage of three wealthy philosopher-kings and their entourage.
Not the usual customers you find in a sleepy town like this.
In the rush of the crowds to get a good look, the men make their escape.

Turns out these guys are following the light in the sky, too.
But the locals know a short-cut.
Oh man, yeah, it makes sense now.
The light is taking them to the inn run by Old Man Judah.
He runs a nice joint. Had to be his place.

But Old Judah is like - nah, we didn't rent no rooms to no kings. Get back up in the hills where you belong, ya sweaty dirt-kickers.

So weird, right?
This has to be the right place.
What a waste.
Sheep probably dead.
Boss will be furious.
And forget the wife!
It's over man. Game over.

Nothing to do but get back to work.
And then they hear it.
The voices from Act One.
This time the voices sing not the triumphant arrival of a king, but the soft lullaby of a mother.

From around the back?
The barn?
Come on, man!

The men sneak around the back of the inn...

And it is the voice of a mother.
A new mother, cradling a babe whose face shines like the morning dawn.

But the story does not end there.
Dazed, they wander back to the main streets, where the three Kings argue with Judah.
Recognizing the stunned looks on their faces, the wise men ignore the innkeeper and demand answers of the bros.
All they can do is wave around to the back.

The wise men are like, "bruh".
And our boys are like, "I know, dude."

And they run into all the wives, who demand explanations and despite a lot of, "You're not gonna believe this, but..."

They do.
They believe it.
They don't understand it, but they get it.

Now they gotta get back up into the hills.
Somehow, they know the sheep are going to be okay.
Somehow, they know everything will work out.
Might not be easy.
Might be most people won't believe them.
But for the first time in a long time, they know everything will be okay.

Anyway, that's a film I'd watch.
Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals.

Fin