After the episode with Santa’s The Fish last week, this week there’s a lot of deodorant. Lots of the stuff. Loads. So much deodorant you can probably smell it whilst reading this column as it’s drifted across from the North Pole to your location. Enjoy! That’s an early Christmas present from Santa.

Hiring a Cleaning Crew for Cleaning Purposes Only

Santa got up this morning, scratched my backside, and staggered hungover through the corridors of factory unit one. 14 things hit me during this waddling wander:

1. The place stinks
2. It smells so bad
3. Oh god the smell
4. There’s stuff all over the walls
5. Mould is everywhere
6. Bazooka holes are in the walls
7. There’s debris from decades ago
8. Why is there cheese on the floor in this corridor?
9. The stench! The infernal stench!
10. Perhaps some incense will sort this all out?
11. I’d better hire some cleaners
12. Yes, I’ll hire some cleaners
13. The smell may kill the cleaners…
14. I’ll hire them anyway

Sure enough, Santa drank a pint of Drambuie and rang up some cleaners. They were flown in via helicopter especially to get the job done. Unfortunately, Santa was pretty wasted by the time they arrived (via helicopter) and I shot them down with a bazooka shot (17th time lucky). The chopper went down, hit the earth near factory unit four, and blew up in spectacular fashion.

With the cleaning crew slain, drunk Santa decided the ONLY course of action was to get deodorant in. Lots and lots of deodorant. A million cans of deodorant!

A Million Cans of Deodorant

Santa had the million cans of deodorant flown in via helicopter. The smouldering inferno crash site of the chopper from the previous day was still flaming away as the delivery team arrived. The pilot, I could hear over the radio, panicked and attempted to fly off. Santa’s bazooka rounds (18th time lucky) did the job and the helicopter slammed into the ground 100 yards away from the first helicopter incident.

The massive explosion that followed destroyed 47% of the deodorant can delivery.

But with a solid 53% of the deodorant can delivery still in good working order, Santa COMMANDED my elf workforce to run around the entire factory side, indoors and out, spraying deodorant goodness everywhere. Santa logic being this will:

• Clean everything up
• Have everything smelling super nice
• Fend off any further potential plague outbreaks
• Give the factory site a real MASCULINE ENERGY, so deeply lacking due to the Marxist woke agenda permeating through the very walls of the Santa regime

Santa had the elves running around the factory on a 48 hour continuous loop. There was no time for rest! Pelting cocaine and energy drinks into their bodies, they ran and ran and ran and ran while spraying the deodorant cans. After 48 hours they’d gone through only 31,000 cans of the stuff, so Santa had them do ANOTHER 48 hours. But then we ran out of energy drinks, so Santa whipped my belt off and started THRASHING them all with that to keep them in motion.

CLEANLINESS HAS NO TIME FOR SLACKERS!!!

Deodorant Cloud Threatens Humanity

What with all the deodorant spraying, a giant cloud of the stuff accumulated above the factory. Then the strong wintery winds of the North Pole picked up the highly toxic cloud and blasted it out across the Arctic Ocean. The local coastguard, UN, WHO, and various other woke Marxist organisations soon began ringing up the Santa factory demanding to know what this toxic cloud thing was all about.

Thinking on my feet, Santa told them it was an early Christmas present. The organisations responded by saying they were not best pleased with this early Christmas present. Santa called the organisations an “ungrateful bunch of bastards”. Then I threatened to have the elves do the same thing for another 72+ hour period and unleash a SECOND toxic deodorant cloud on humanity!

Panicked, the organisations settled on leaving me be and taking care of the first one by themselves. Best of luck with that! And “enjoy” your early Christmas present… 🙂

Post-Spring Clean Deodorant Aftermath Stench

Walking back into the factory for the first time after all the spraying (Santa stayed in an igloo during the wait and drank a lot of cheap lager), the immediate issue was the horrific, rancid, putrid stench of Secret Coconut Vanilla with Scents of Exotic Africa. Santa walked into the reception and the smell hit me like a tonne of walruses.

Indeed, Kenneth the walrus wouldn’t go anywhere near the factory. He was petrified by the smell.

Santa was knocked out stone cold and Nurse Doreen saved my life by dragging me out of the factory and placing me into a medically induced coma, which she later brought me out of by beating me around the head with a bottle of whiskey. Concussed and hungover, Santa could still smell the smell. It was such a fierce, pervasive, vomit-inducing smell there was nothing else for it but to break out the emergency hazmat suits.

Santa looked superb in his! But must admit it was a tight fit.

My massive beer belly was making the suit bulge out like Krakatoa about to bloody well go for it all over again. Walking around was difficult, too, because my visor area kept fogging up with Santa wheezing. However! It did offer a break from the smell of deodorant.

Santa had Markus, my head elf, go and assess the factory units and to provide a cleanliness rating out of 10.

Markus returned 10 hours later with his elf assistant, Bernard, carrying many flipcharts. By that point, Santa was drunk on Drambuie and VERY ANNOYED, because I had to take my hazmat helmet off every time I wanted to slug from the bottle. Anyway, Markus levelled it at me.

“Officially, sir, based on international health and safety standards, the deodorant has done nothing other than add to the dangerous state of the entire factory premises, and…”

Markus’ squeaky voice trailed off as he saw me giving him the evils, my very best haughty stare! Belching exuberantly, I demanded Markus have the flipcharts burned in a giant fire in the office.

“LIGHT THEM UP!” I bellowed at him and Bernard.

Markus refused, so Santa cracked out his flamethrower and let rip with it all. Unfortunately, and with deep regret, all that lingering deodorant residue and the like was hellish flammable. There was a considerable explosion and Santa was fired 30ft out of my office and out into the snow. My office is no more…

And from the outside, lying there on the icy tundra of the North Pole, Santa realised I needed to go pee pee.