Exclusive Santa Column: Official Christmas Day Chaos Report

Santa on Christmas Day
A propaganda flier from earlier this morning – Santa did not look this jolly, it has been confirmed.

Hello. Most of you have your presents by now so you know I held it all together and did my job “properly”. Good grief! If the population explosion continues unabated Santa will be dead by 2020. Stop going at it like rabbits, you stupid bloody people! Have some respect for your legendary figures whom orientated from Western religious culture, otherwise you’re not going to get your Barbie dolls delivered. Anyway, ho ho whatever and all that, I’m off to get wasted. You can read my report on the Christmas Day run below.

2 am – AN early start

Santa was up early to prep for the Christmas slog, have breakfast, and take a load of PEDs for the morning ahead. Mrs. Santa Claus fussed over me at this point and insisted I have a cup of tea before heading out for my global circumnavigation. I lost my temper and roared “Piss off, you stupid woman!” before downing half a litre of whiskey and shooting up with cortisone injections. Suitably pumped, I headed out into the subzero temperatures of the North Pole to rouse the reindeer.

2:33 AM – Rousing the Reindeer

They all sleep in the stables outside, of course, but the lads (unbeknownst to me) were in the middle of a drinking bender and still up raving. Apparently, they were under the impression Christmas Day is tomorrow, not today! WTF?! Rudolph was so drunk he was openly making out with a hay bale in one corner! The others were in a pretty terrible state and singing bigoted songs about donkeys (who “suck”, apparently – I can’t comment).

I brought in the hose from outside and drenched them all in icy cold water to try and sober them up, then ordered them to be outside by 3:30 am. They emerged, but were wielding batons and handguns. Rudolph squared up to me and said, “We’re sick of this shit, Santa! No more! You’re gonna have to hire some donkeys to do your slave labour for you from now on, you bastard!” Sedition! They’ve tried that on before, of course, so out came my trusty bazooka and one well aimed blast had the whole stable erupting around us. Suitably terrified, we got on with the job.


As the bloody sleigh was frozen stiff I had to rev up the flamethrower to thaw it out whilst all the reindeer, their confidence boosted again by more liquor, languished about jeering at me. I directed a load of invective at them, but they just told me to go and stuff it up my buttocks. I found this most impertinent, but once the sleigh was defrosted we rather unsteadily strapped ourselves in, my army of elves attached the 1,000 tonne present container to the back with all 20 billion presents, and off we set!

3:20 am – Setting Off: Part 1

Out onto the icy wasteland expanse we trundled with a score of wasted reindeer and one artificially pumped up Santa! It’s always a rousing moment that bit, right before the big mission, and I always swell with a sense of pride and profundity. Unfortunately, this year the reindeer were a bit unsteady, veered off the semi-beaten track, and we plunged down an icy ravine and got stuck. The elves came racing out with recovery machinery, but we were heavily delayed.

3:50 am – Setting Off: Part 2

This went a tad better and we were airborne without any hitches, although almost immediately hit trouble when up in the overcrowded skies. Obviously, with the sleigh swaying about drunkenly all over the place, we soon began disrupting long haul international flights and a police helicopter was summoned to trail us. I tried waving the bastard off, but ultimately had to unload my shotgun at him to scare him away. Problem solved.

4:10 AM – Altitude sickness

The mission was underway and we’d covered off the UK already. Dropping altitude to speed things up, we began clobbering rooftops and other buildings. Santa accidentally also rammed an off licence and inadvertently picked up some alcohol and a packet of cheese and onion crisps. We also whacked Big Ben in London and, I can assure you, that thing ain’t so big anymore! Hahaha!

The altitude drop was also triggered by the reindeer, who were beginning to get “altitude sickness” (i.e. their drunkenness was having adverse effects). As we raced across England, they were puking all over the place. Watch your step when you leave the house, you bloody limeys!

4:30 AM – Army Interference

It turned out unloading my shotgun at the coppers wasn’t a good idea. We were soon being shadowed by several airborne jets from the Royal Air Force and, as we raced across Europe, I was veering around incoming missiles and radio interference stating, “Cease and desist, or be obliterated!” – I was getting fed up of that crap. One of the pilots pulled up alongside me and gesticulated wildly for me to land. I gave that SOB the middle finger and floored it. Delivering those Barbie dolls will always be more important than public safety!

5 AM – Taking Damage

The jets soon had to clear off to refuel, but we’d taken severe damage and were trailing smoke from the present container as we reached the Americas. When they returned, a 10 tonne crate of Barbie dolls was pitched over the side in one explosion and it landed over the walls of Alcatraz Federal Penitentiary in California. Oh well, even hardened criminals need something at Christmas.

Now, being still quite drunk, exhausted, stressed, and veering around incoming missiles… it was taking its toll. I’d had enough and yanked out my bazooka (again, no double entendre intended) and unleashed on the jets. This had the opposite effect I’d wished for and we were blasted down, ironically, in a place called Accident, Maryland, in the US.

The reindeer scarpered into the wilderness but, due to my immense girth, as I attempted to waddle off hurriedly before the coppers arrived, I suffered a cardiac arrest due to the exertion involved. As the cops arrived to arrest me, I embraced gallows humour and tried to lift everyone’s spirits by bellowing out a rendition of Silent Night. I received a rifle butt to the head to shut me up.

6 AM – questioning

Dragged off to Area 51, I awoke to find myself stark bollock naked and strapped to an interrogation chair. Two bald FBI agents, playing the good cop/bad cop routine, stalked around me with questions such as “Who do you work for?” etc. I told them I’m Santa Claus, at which point the bad cop flipped over a table and began bellowing uncontrollably. I told him to shut his face, which really enraged him and he had to be dragged out of the room by the other guy.

6:30 AM – Phone Call

I’ve seen the films, so demanded my legal right to a phone call. The Americans agreed and offered me some clothing, but I decided to stay naked as I prefer letting it all hang loose. Anyway, I didn’t phone a lawyer, I rang my elves back home and ordered them to come and break me out by whatever means necessary. I then sat back and awaited the results.

7:30 AM – Freedom

At 7:30 am precisely, 100 of my elves bulldozed through the Area 51 headquarters and smashed their way into my interrogation cell. The good and bad cop stood open mouthed in disbelief as I flipped them off, clambered onto one of the bulldozers, and we took off into the air craft hanger where the FBI had stashed my sleigh.

My elves strapped an engine from one of the nearby A-10C Thunderbolt II jets, we reattached the present container, and were back on our way. Shortly afterwards, in L.A., we came across a donkey farm and I hired the lot for sleigh guidance duties. That lot don’t complain, I can tell you! Who needs reindeer?

9 am – Mission accomplished

With that jet engine, and a mass of eager donkeys, I wrapped up everything else by 9 am! Well, I missed out huge areas of the globe and there will be millions of upset families this morning, but they can sod off.

The point is, I’m now back home and drinking heavily. It’s done for another year. Want to make this easier for me? Buy your own goddamn presents for your own goddamn family! Apologies for the anger, but my gout has been playing up recently. And I have scurvy. I really should consume something other than PEDs and alcohol. Oh well, enjoy your Christmas!


Dispense with some gibberish!

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