Another week… more Santa. He’s getting verbose of late, we apologise. But what the hey, let’s see what this jolly psychopath is up to this week.

Business Policies

I’m under increasing pressure from the UN to instigate proper policies in my business. For instance, they demanded I establish proper wealth and safety procedures.

I agreed with them fully on that. I may be miserly, but I’ve WORKED HARD and I’m just SMARTER than everyone else and have been wildly successful! If other people are poor it’s because they’re lazy and stupid!

I launched into my wealth and safety policy to make it clear if anyone goes near my fortune I can, legally, blast them dead with my shotgun (not a euphemism).

With great pride I presented this to the UN. They angrily rounded on me and told me it has to be a health and safety policy.

I bellowed with laughter at that. Like, whatever! If my employees have concerns with my factory’s safety standards they can go and work somewhere else.

Hostages

Last week I inadvertently triggered an international hostage situation. I trapped a load of SJW journalists in an old cesspit.

They had turned up to document me and tell the world how great I am, instead it’s only creating further “tyrannical” interpretations of my behaviour.

The UN is demanding I release the hacks, but I just told them to sod off. I’ve now got the journalists doing petty chores around the factory and cleaning up the effluence and filth.

My head elf, Vincent, is out of action as his legs are shattered. As such, I’ve promoted our chef/nurse Doreen to the position.

She baked a big cake to celebrate the new role, but some of the ingredients were off and much of my workforce now has dysentery. More work for the SJW hacks to mop up!

My wife, meanwhile, is still in jail after assaulting me. So, as you can probably imagine, this is all seriously delaying our Christmas push. In fact, we haven’t made a single toy yet, with an estimated 35 billion to complete. We were supposed to have a billion done by now!

Such a dilemma requires a sharp mind (and desperate actions). Expedience is in order!

Although the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) banned us permanently from using nuclear power after our 2015 Santa factory meltdown, I’ve fired up the old plant to fuel the factory again.

That breaks many laws and legal restrictions, but it was getting bloody cold as our standard electric generator really is knackered out.

So, in this emergency situation, it was the only solution. At least all the lights are now all working and there’s a bit of heat about the place. It feels like a proper factory again!

I sent the journalists into the reactor to clear away the highly radioactive corium and uranium left from the meltdown. I gave them a bobble hat for protection. Just the one bobble hat. I figured it’d have a placebo effect.

When they returned the next morning, bright red and with their skin peeling from their bodies, I kicked them out of the factory immediately. What a bloody disgusting sight they were! No professional standards. Typical Millennials.

I believe they’ve since frozen solid in the sub-zero temperatures. The journalists’ various publications, plus the UN, and the IAEA, have demanded I explain my actions at a council. I told them to piss off.

Healthy Glow

Rudolph mentioned I’ve got a “healthy glow” again. Like a proper jolly fat man! Indeed, it’s come about ever since the nuclear power plant kicked in.

Then I started noticing I was glowing. I stripped stark bollock naked and ran out of the factory into the night, astounded as I lit up the local vicinity around me. It was amazing beautiful. I’ve never felt so pure.

I was incredibly drunk at the time and forgot about the sub-zero temperatures and slammed into one of the frozen corpses of the SJW journalists. A solid block of ice.

That knocked me out cold. I came to the next day visibly glowing. Nurse Doreen said we should all get “decontaminated”, so I ordered everyone take a shower and presume that will be enough.

Christmas Is On

Although much of my workforce began labouring under the effects of acute radiation sickness, the factory was firing away and our production line was on.

Toys were, at last, thumping out of units two, three, and four (unit one is, of course, at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean).

But many of my elves were, in a horrendous act of insubordination, puking over the toys. Others were leaving mucus and skin peelings over the products.

I mean… seriously! Where’s the professionalism in this day and age? Do you think 10 year old Timmy wants to get his action toy figure covered in radioactive byproducts? Of course not!

Anyway we’re a tight deadline, so it’ll just have to be an extra feature. On the packaging I’ve started adding CTAs and USPs such as, “Now with authentic rotting flesh!” etc. They’ll like that, the stupid little gits.

As everything is maxed up to the nines, the various factory units are struggling. Several have caught fire. And many of my remaining elves are dropping dead. And the IAEA and UN are cordoning off the perimeter of the factory as a no-go zone.

When they started doing that, I rushed out into the snowstorm wilderness with my shotgun and started firing wildly into the air and bellowing. Blokes in hazmat suits then surrounded me. And the rest is a blur.