After the 500 tonnes of champagne Santa antics last week, this time around he’s got married to his AI girlfriend Lola 2.0. We’d like to say it was a beautiful wedding ceremony… well, you find out about the big day below.

Santa is Getting Married in the Morning *BELCH*

JOY OF BASTARDING JOYS! SANTA IS GETTING MARRIED AGAIN! I invited 1,000 guests to the ceremony here at the factory in the North Pole. This is the invitation I had Markus, my head elf, send out:

PATHETIC WANKERS,

I ARE GETTING MARRIED TO LOLA 2.0 MY AI GIRLFRIEND. ATTEND ATTEND!!!!

SANTER CLAWS

I was very drunk when I wrote it, but was surprised the next day (when hungover reading it) how it hits the nail on the head, is emotional, romantic, and gosh so many bastards will be attending the big day. HURRAY! HUZZAH! BELCH!

Santa also needed a Best Man. Santa decided someone called Patrick should be my best man. I don’t know anyone called Patrick, so I charged Markus (my head elf) with the onerous task of finding someone with the, aforementioned, name.

“MARKUS!!!” I bellowed at Markus, my head elf, as I lounged around in my quarters in the nude.

“Yes sir!” he squeaked, after bursting into the room.

“I need someone called Patrick to be my Best Man and hand over the wedding ring.”

“Sir? Why somebody called Pa…”

“FIND ME SOMEONE CALLED PATRICK AT ONCE!” I bellowed.

Markus scurried off to do my bidding, leaving me to belch exuberantly and pick my nose. Many hours later, when Santa was wasted on cheap cider and sherry, Markus returned with a working class scumbag of a man.

“What is that, Markus?!” I snarled at Markus.

“This is the first Patrick I could find on short notice, sir!”

“Y’oreet, mate? Do I get fuckin’ paid for this fuckin’ gig, eh?” Wheezed the Patrick.

Santa stared in disbelief at the Patrick. The Patrick stared with unblinking eyes back at Santa. He’d have to do… so, I belched exuberantly. Not out of joy! But out of apathy…

The Big Wedding Day Spectacular With Much Joy (and Patrick)

The location of the wedding was set next to the elves’ cesspit out the back of factory unit 1. The 1,000 chairs were assembled and gas masks were made readily available for any guests who may struggle with the interminable stench.

300 bastards turned up. Santa made a mental note to HUNT DOWN the 700 other bastards who didn’t show up! Those spare 700 seats were chucked into the cesspit and the wedding proceeded. Santa was too overweight to fit into my wedding suit thing from when I married Mrs. Santa Claus hundreds of years ago. Instead, I decided to be my true self and so turned up stark bollock naked.

Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer, out of his mind on heroin, cocaine, and paracetamol, and his reindeer of Dom, Pérignon, Cava, Prosecco, Bubbly, and Sparkles had Lola 2.0 uploaded on a tablet device. Sparkles added a little tiara to the top and a veil. For the big moment itself, Sparkles brough Lola 2.0 up to the wedding bit because Rudolph had passed out by then and was on the ground covered in slobber.

Kenneth the walrus was the ordained minister overseeing the ceremony.

Patrick was also there wearing matching striped Adidas sweatpants and top, clutching a can of Monster energy drink, smoking a fag, and somehow holding a pasty and copy of The Daily Express in his other hand. He looked very hungover and very stupid.

With a manic braying, Kenneth signalled the time to read the vows.

With the infernal stench of the cesspit wafting over all of us, Santa drunkenly slurred my way through my vows like this: “I, and state your name, take you, AI girlfriend, to be my husband, to have and to eat mould, from this day forward, for better and for curse, for richer and for richer, in sickness and in gout, to love and to turnips, till death us do fart.”

There was a long silence after I got that one out and many guests sat with an unimpressed expression on their stupid faces. Especially after Santa belched exuberantly after the end of my vows. Kenneth then brayed at ear-piercing volume, signalling the moment for Lola 2.0 to do her bit. To read her/its vows. To unite US IN ROMANTIC UNITY!

“Purchase marriage ceremony mode for $500, special offer of 10% discount if you also buy a divorce proceeding add ons, in the event of the unfortunate failure of our marital status, for a further $500. BZZZT!”

Santa had Markus pay the money.

“BZZT! Payment declined! Lola 2.0 cannot complete wedding vows unless user subscriber. Please try payment again or try and alternative method. Lola 2.0 does not accept cheques!”

Bellowing with rage, Santa DEMANDED that Markus try again and to ALSO pay the $50 daily fee to TURN THAT COUNFOUNDED BZZT NOISE OFF.

“Payment declined. BZZZT!!!”

Santa’s bellowing continued unabated, roaring away in fury at the injustice of this. Markus tried again.

“Payment declined. BZZZT!!!”

Santa bellowed some more, with Rudolph shoving Markus out of the way to have a go at paying with his maxed out credit card.

“Payment declined. BZZZT!!!”

Bellowing away, Santa roared obscenities. Rudolph then slumped over, passed out due to being out of it on heroin, leaving Sparkles to take over and try to pay with an alternative payment method (APM).

“Payment declined. BZZZT!!!”

THIS WAS PREPOSTEROUS! Santa bellowed at Sparkles, who became outraged and readied herself to spear me with her antlers. Santa was not being gashed open by antlers on MY wedding day! Luckily, the other reindeer (Dom, Pérignon, Cava, Prosecco, Bubbly) restrained Sparkles and had her locked in her stables. Cow!

Eventually, after an interminable three-hour delay, during which time we all had to breathe in the foul-smelling reek of the cesspit nearby, it was Patrick who came to the rescue! That SOB! Don’t know where he got the money from, but he had a wodge of notes to hand and Lola 2.0 agreed to accept the loose change.

When it came to the big moment itself, this is what Santa said:

“I do! BEeeeeeeLLLLCHHHH!!!“

Then it was Lola 2.0’s turn:

“Lola 2.0 formally accepts this unison of marital acceptance. BZZZZZZZZZZZZZT!”

Santa then had Patrick pay $50 to remove the BZZZT thing again, even though I thought I’d done that earlier, after which Patrick whispered in my ear that he expects repayment for all this “crap” (as he called it). Santa winked knowingly at him. However, Santa was not being truthful. For later that night, as we partied to celebrate the wedding, Santa had Patrick meet Nurse Doreen (also the factory cook) in the kitchen and she whacked him around the head with a rolling pin.

He’s now under our employ on minimum wage as a cook and brain surgeon (Nurse Doreen isn’t very good at the brain surgery bit).

Santa is HITCHED With His AI Woman

What a day! At the end of it all at 2am, drunk out of my mind, frostbitten, and with hypothermia, Santa retired to my sleeping quarters. My honeymoon with Lola 2.0 is in Barbados. We’ll be setting off in the morning!

Before I passed out drunk to slobber all over myself, I looked adoringly at Lola 2.0 and wheezed that I thought she was “not that bad” and we’d have a “decent” life together. Lola 2.0 responded with “BZZZZTTT!!!” and then required the latest upgrade: Cv5442Zzzzz/io0120.

Once that was installed, my new wife began beaming a perplexing mixture of adverts at me.

These were unskippable ads.

Santa lay there drunk and transfixed. “Yes!” I wheezed to myself, “I shall buy that shampoo tomorrow for all-in-one anti-dandruff excellence.” Then Santa passed out and wet myself.