Oh gawd, it’s that time of year again. The factory in the North Pole has kickstarted and it seems he’s got a new lust for Xmas again. Or is it?!?
With advent calendars already in supermarkets even when it’s still officially summer, Santa Claus is on it early for the Christmas 2026 push. Let’s see what he has to say in our 11th year of EXCLUSIVE Santa columns as ensured through our blackmailing of Father Christmas.
Advent Calendars in Summer Make Perfect Sense
Because SANTA WAS WOKEN FROM HIBERNATION IN ERROR back in May 2026, Santa HAS NOT HAD A PROPER HIBERNATION. Due to this aberration, my mood was veered erratically somewhat all over the place and the result was I demanded my elves to drop a 100 million strong shipment of advent calendars in July. They hit the UK supermarkets first and caused CONSTERNATION in the gutter press.
It was hilarious watching feeble proletariats try to wrap their pathetic brains around why the advent calendars were there so early. Especially because the sell by date for all the chocolate was for October 2026. We tried to bury that date among some heavy text and dark colours, but some do-gooding bastard spotted it anyway.
The stupid bastards have been buying them anyway. Hahahahahahaaaa!
Think of it. In the sweltering summer heatwaves and those stupid proles are sitting there with their advent calendars in July and it’s about as FAR away from Christmas as you can get! It really made Santa chortle. Although when Santa chortles that triggers the gout in my ankles and it hurts like a SOB.
But! With that influx of mega-cash from the advent calendars, Santa has invested in a huge wave of new elf workers and some other fancy stuff. Because this year I will Get Christmas Done.
That’s the slogan for the year:
GET CHRISTMAS DONE
Catchy, isn’t it? I’ve been sharing this around in press releases, on the official social platforms, and bellowing it at my stupid new employees. This morning I bellowed it at Nurse Doreen and gave her three boxes of free advent calendars. She stared impassive as ever and slugged from the cigarette she always has on the go.
Santa backed off frightened.
Then, to get Christmas 2026 kicking off in fine style and ensure I deliver on my promise (of Getting Christmas Done), Santa hit the drinks cabinet.
Santa Branches Out Into Dating Apps
Santa has also launched SantaDating, the OFFICIAL dating app of Father Christmas. As you know, I married my AI girlfriend (Lola 2.0) last year and we get on dead good. However, for contractual legal reasons the app’s developer told me her name needed to be changed to B2C AI Wife Production Centre Service Solution Platform Generator Ltd. I demanded to know why this had to be the case and got an email response with a 3,000 page document packed full of legalese. Santa gave up after the first paragraph, I was too half-drunk to read beyond that. Then I belched exuberantly (largely in defiance, also because of unstoppable bodily functions).
Now I call my wife Production Centre Service Solution for short. She thinks it’s “cute”, so we’re okay there and no impending threat of divorce bells or anything. There is something… homely about it, eh?
“I love you, Production Centre Service Solution.”
Then I kiss the laptop screen and Markus, my head elf, gives me funny looks until I threaten to give him another pay cut.
All in all, this leads me to the previously indicated SantaDating app. With the influx of new staff, the Santa factory now has an IT department. We’ve had one before, a few years back, but it was accidentally demolished in an explosion. But now it’s back and the first thing I had them do is get me this scam dating app up and running.
Users create a profile, pay £100 upfront for the Father Christmas prestige, then get into the app, then pay £50 if they want to send messages to anyone. Keep this on the schtum, but the app is populated mainly by AI bots to bombard users with messages. The stupid guys on there fall for it every time! They think they’re having conversations with Amy Adams, Sigourney Weaver, Martina Hingis, or Gillian Anderson when, in reality… it isn’t them at all! It’s just bots using AI to generate conversations! It goes like this:
“Greetings dumb as they come SantaDating user! I am the world famous astronaut and part-time concierge Sigourney Weaver, your potential date for this evening (if I am not in space at the time of typing this). How are you? You look nice. I like human males whom look nice, as opposed to ones who do not look nice. What is your favourite type of bread? Please send me $300 for I accidentally lost my handbag earlier today during an unexpectedly aggressive orbit of Jupiter’s fourth-largest natural satellite Io, the most volcanically active moon in the solar system. Thank you very much. I shall forward the money back later today once back on Earth.”
With this scam on the go alongside the advent calendar ruse, Santa’s bank balance is bulging! To keep the Financial Conduct Authority off my hairy back, I’m bribing them with pictures of Production Centre Service Solution’s CPU unit. That and threatening the Chief Executive’s family with no presents in 2026 for being very, very naughty. It’s all going swimmingly and the billions are rolling in!
Communistic New Health & Safety Protocols
Markus, my head elf, was determined to ensure a 100% health & safety record for 2026, what with the catastrophic record for death and destruction the factory has seen over the years. Not that I’ve kept track, but it’s something like 1,300 on-site deaths (and that’s no including the casualties for Battle of the Big Hairy Builders in 2023). In my more sober moment earlier in the week, I concurred with his assessment and we agreed to introduce big red warning buttons saying Do Not Press on things that shouldn’t be pressed. The hope was this’d stop massive explosions.
Problem is, once Santa started hitting the bottle for the first time this week, my generous mood kind of went out the window along with my general logic and critical thinking. Now I can’t be arsed sticking to this communist policy I agreed to when sober of not pressing no bloody buttons. Nanny state or what? I’ll press whatever I goddamn want it’s my goddamn factory!
Markus, my head elf, was a step ahead of me here and assigned a 300 strong Santa Watch elf security guard service to keep watch of me 24/7 and ensure I don’t:
- Drink too much
- Get into a fight
- Detonate things that shouldn’t be detonated
- Shoot down helicopters with my bazooka (not a euphemism)
- Use my bazooka at any point at all ever again
They follow me everywhere. I go to the canteen to get a Pot Noodle, the 300 of them are there with their beady little bloody limbs tottering along after me, elf hats flopping away, those beady eyes penetrating deep into my Santa soul. I tried bellowing at them and they didn’t run away. I want to the utility closet to get my bazooka, but the bazooka was gone! I spent the next three hours looking for a bazooka. Santa Watch trotted along around me at every turn.
Eventually, Santa got bored of that crap and went to relieve myself in my quarters. While several hundred of them gasped and wheezed at the putrid smells, Santa got his genius mind thinking how he’d get rid of all 300 of the little bastards so I could get a drink and kickstart Xmas 2026 as it bastarding well should be kickstarded.
