After some seriously weird goings on with Santa’s cesspit thing last week, this time out he’s back and ready to rock with Christmas JOY. That was the plan, but after his recent wedding, honeymoon, and cesspit action, his plans to get Christmas 2025 back on track hit a snag. All in the form of an arctic fox.

Discovering What an Arctic Fox Is

Santa has lived in the North Pole for a long time but never knew an arctic fox existed. What do they do? Why do they exist? Why is it white? I can’t see the bastard if it’s white. Why are so many goddamn things here white!? The snow, the polar bears, the arctic foxes, the snow… Santa’s big bushy beard. EVERYTHING IS WHITE AND I AM SICK OF IT!

To get round the issue, I had Markus (my head elf) set fire to factory unit six. We had that one hastily built last week to support the AI energy consumption requirements of my new wife (Mrs. Claus 2.0). She guzzles a lot of juice, so that new unit keeps her operating 24/7. However, setting fire to the unit meant there was less WHITE everywhere.

Santa was most pleased with that for about 25 minutes.

That was until an ARCTIC FOX, as white as the snow around it, trotted out from the nearby icy tundra and started sniffing at Santa’s man boots.

“Get away from me, bastard!” I barked at it.

The fox did not go away. Even with my most might bellowing, the beast stayed put and simply stared at me with a stupid expression on its stupid face. Markus (my head elf) came out to join me, holding a can of petrol, the factory unit burning merrily away, and he too stared at the arctic fox.

“What is that, Markus?”

“It is an arctic fox, sir.”

“What is an arctic fox, Markus?”

“Sir, it is a fox that lives in Antarctica.”

With that settled, I decided to ignore the SOB and set off waddling back to the main factory unit. But the fox continued to trot behind me. Santa’s gout-ridden ankles weren’t happy about this. I turned and barked aggressively at the beast, bellowed obscenities, and waved my chubby arms around to scare it off.

The fox sat there with a kind of “OOoooooohhhhhh…” expression. Santa doesn’t know the exact word for it. Basically what I mean is it DID NOT seem impressed by me at all, which is disgusting behaviour. I bellowed some more until I was hoarse in the throat, with the animal sitting there with its head tilted to one side like it was bloody well MOCKING me. ME! SANTA! And then it got a hell of a lot worse…

The Cubs

While the stupid bastard sat there indifferent to my majestical being, four cubs came bounding up behind it as is from nowhere. They, too, sat next to their mother and did the whole cocked head thing staring at me with those STUPID big cute eyes. This was absolutely petrifying, to be honest, and Santa was scared shitless.

I had Markus, my head elf, go running off to get some assistance from Rudolph and his reindeer Dom, Pérignon, Cava, Prosecco, Bubbly, and Sparkles.

30 minutes later they turned up.

Turns out Sparkles can speak arctic fox, which was super handy and convenient. She had a strange 10 minute conversation with the mother fox, while the cubs occasionally broke rank to wrestle with each other. Eventually, finally, Sparkles whinnied something at Rudolph, who turned to Markus and whinnied something, and Markus nodded his head. He then turned to me to deliver the news.

“Sir, this arctic fox is called Melinda and would like to inform you of the following: ‘Stick ’em up, this is a hold up, so give me all your money, you dickhead!’ Melinda would like it to be known she means this in a hyper aggressive way and we’ll all be slaughtered unless we hand over our wallets.”

Santa was most angry about this development!!!

“You mean to say, Markus, my head elf, that this tiny arctic fox bastard is mugging us?”

“I’m afraid so, sir…”

“Markus, what can Melinda even do with a wallet out here!?!?!?!” I roared, whilst gesticulating across the icy tundra and its sub-zero temperatures.

Markus asked Rudolph this question, who whinnied to Sparkles, who began a conversation with Melinda. Some 20 minutes later the answer came back to me from Markus.

“Sir, she wants to buy her offspring a Nintendo Switch 2 for Christmas and has figured this is the ideal way to go about it.”

“How, Markus, does she intend to get a PlayStation 2 out here!? THERE AREN’T ANY SHOPS!!!” I bellowed angrily.

“Sir, if you give her your wallet this’ll be over and we can return to the factory.”

“markus… i don’t have my wallet with me….” I whispered aggressively.

Truth be told, this was the most scared Santa had been since 1974 when a polar bear walked into the reception area. Santa thought I was doomed, but it turned out the polar bear wanted a job. I put him in control of the Barbie doll unit, but fired him after 10 hours because he kept mauling the elves. Other than that, a solid worker.

Anyway, this situation was dire and my life at stake.

So, Santa ordered Markus to go back to the factory, get my wallet, and bring it back. We handed it over to Melinda, who yapped excitedly. Sparkles, Rudolph, and Markus then parlayed the meaning and Markus (my head elf) said to me this.

“Sir, she thanks you for the wallet but, under the rules of her highwayman code, she and her wolf cubs must now maul our ankles so as to prevent us from calling the police.”

“Markus, there are no police out here, that’s why I have my factory out here to avoid…”

Just as I was roaring that at Markus, Melinda and the wolf cubs seized there moment and rushed in to maul all of our ankles. Santa got TWELVE bites on my ankles and shins from those SOBs. TWELVE! AS IF MY GOUT WASN’T BAD ENOUGH AS IT IS!! The kerfuffle continued until the animals sprinted off yapping hysterically.

For the first time since 1974, Santa felt like a chump…