But, seeing as Black Friday is now a tradition it needs a festive poem we can read to each other sat around the fire. The fire of a burning down supermarket. And here it is.
'Twas 28 days before Christmas, when we all left the house,
to buy cheap computers, a keyboard and mouse.
We went to the shops to orderly queue up,
but as we saw the deals things started to screw up
The shoppers all wanted to get that TV,
but it was a bargain I wanted for me.
The people then pushed to get to my tech,
so I elbowed a pensioner square in the neck.
To save that precious 15 percent,
I swiftly spiralled in moral decent.
Slapping a child, prodding a stranger,
for 20-quid off I'd face any danger.
From orderly queue to violent melee,
we came to blows for the sake of a "telly".
I felt all butch, came over all manny.
So I pushed over a wheelchair and then slapped a granny.
"But what have I done for an electrical device?"
I gave myself over to pure "avarice".
I was a thug, so badly behaving,
all for a little financial saving.
I regret what I did as I sit here in jail...
...but I'll do it again in the January sale.
You can hear it read out here.