Last time out Santa faced a new nemesis in the form of a Christmas cracker crisis. This time out his factory gaffer, Kenneth the walrus, has decided to do something about it (on instructions from his boss).

In this EXCLUSIVE column from Father Christmas, discover the ins-and-outs of his wholesome run up to the 2024 snowy season. Hurray!

Securing Confidential Documentation to Stamp Santa’s Authority Everywhere

After last week Santa wasn’t holding back! No, siree. No hyper-intelligent Christmas cracker was going to do one over Santa. Nope. Not a chance! No way, José.

Santa had Kenneth the walrus gaffer “sneak” into Susan the Christmas Cracker’s camp. Using his very best stealth attack, Kenneth bulldozed his way through the camp until Susan, apparently bored of his efforts, simply handed him the diary to have done with the experience.

Kenneth returned back triumphant to me clutching the diary in his jaws. Slobber was everywhere.

Santa gave him a tin of low-quality tuna as a treat. Kenneth rampaged off braying in delight.

With this highly confidential enemy intelligence now in my possession, Santa necked a few glasses of brandy and poured across the diary expecting nuggets of secret information about Susan’s diabolical plans! Santa did a proper massive evil laugh, opened the diary, and started reading.

To Santa’s surprise, the diary was instead packed with childish rambling about who Susan fancies (some Christmas cracked called John is her “cracker crush”, as she puts it). She actually wrote this:

“What causes Susan to cracker crush on John is his charming personality. That and the terrible pun within his cracker. Granted, it gets a little boring hearing the same pun repeated 1,000 times over, but even on the 1,001st time Susan can’t help but giggle with a sense of cracker-based glee.”

Nauseating bloody stuff! The rest of the diary was full of awful Christmas cracker puns and there were only TWO references to Santa! What the hell!? Both references are that Susan hopes I’ll bring her “nice” Christmas presents…

Susan—YOU SHALL NOT BE RECEIVING ANY NICE CHRISTMAS PRESENTS AT ALL! Santa will personally make sure of it. They’ll be DISTINCTLY mediocre. Take that, you little bitch!

It seems to Santa that Susan might have wanted me to read her diary… why else would she just hand it over to Rudolph? It seems to Santa that she’s gone and done me over with a stupid FAKE diary and here REAL diary filled with all sorts of evil, diabolical plans must be still at her camp.

Santa got Kenneth back into the office.

Kenneth arrived with his ear muffs covered in slobber. Santa issued two new commands:

1. Go back to the camp
2. Destroy Susan

Kenneth brayed heartily and lumbered out of the office. I’m 100% certain that massive bastard of a monstrosity will have no problem exterminating that cracker.

The Gravy Dilemma

While Kenneth was off doing his thing, Santa ambled on my gout-ridden ankles on down to the canteen. That’s where Nurse Doreen works when she’s not busy amputating gangrenous limbs. She’s a battle axe of an old woman but, truth be told, Santa is too scared to fire her.

Santa ambled into the kitchen and to Santa’s eternal horror I found 37 giant cauldrons of gravy in a state of pre and post-cooking. The stench of gravy was overpowering. The room was now more gravy than canteen! I tell you, it’s fair enough near put Santa off gravy for life.

In the middle of it all, cooking in mass batches, was the woman. Cooking away.

Santa was greatly alarmed by this development. For what possible purpose did she need to cook all that gravy!? Terrified, I staggered slowly over towards Nurse Doreen and wheezed into her face, “For what possible purpose do you need all that gravy, woman!?” She recoiled in horror at the masculine stench of 100% proof Santa breath, but then dismissed me with one of her contemptuous gazes.

Returning to my office, I had Markus (my head elf) come in and I dictated a memo at him by bellowing at full volume.

Santa needs to figure out how to SACK that Nurse Doreen. Once and for all!

Whilst yelling all this at Markus (my head elf), it suddenly occurred to me… just get very, very drunk and then sack Nurse Doreen in a haze of inebriation. So, that’s what I did! Santa didn’t have any memory of all this, of course, other than cracking open a bottle of absinthe and laying into it.

The Nurse Doreen Problem

The next day, when Santa was hungover to all bastard, I found that Kenneth has returned. Amidst his manic braying and slobber flying everywhere, Santa was able to discern that he had a friendship bracelet looped around one of his massive tusks. Appalled, Santa soon discovered that… Kenneth and Susan are now “besties”, hit it off really well, and plan to go ice skating this weekend alongside a spot of tea!

Santa’s bellowing could be heard outside the factory.

Kenneth wasn’t best pleased about my disapproval and slobbered all over the floor, before beginning a mating ritual with the office desk. The desk has been destroyed. That will come out of Kenneth’s wage, I assure you! He’s also now gone off sulking and later that day I got Markus to go and tell him that, yes, okay, he can hang out with Susan. BUT! With the big caveat he subtlety gathers confidential information from her by prying her with questions such as, “What are your confidential secrets you can tell me? And I’m not on about John the Christmas cracker, I mean your diabolical plans! And, yes, the tea is splendid!!”

Markus handed him the note with those questions on to steer Kenneth in the right direction. Thus, he departed for Susan’s camp again.

Meanwhile, Nurse Doreen had responded to my drunken sacking of her by continuing to create yet more gravy.

She refused to acknowledge the sacking.

Hungover, I staggered back down to the canteen to demand her to leave the factory. But all the gravy… Jesus H Christ, seeing it all bubbling away did a number on Santa’s hungover brain and let’s just say it didn’t end well for poor hungover Santa. By which I mean I puked everywhere.

This landed me in the infirmary and, of course, Nurse Doreen turned up there as well and she was stirring another giant vat of gravy in one arm whilst jamming a thermometer up one of my nostril’s with her free arm.

Nurse Doreen promptly prescribed a Lemsip and returned to the canteen to cook more gravy…

Santa truly does hate that woman!