After the Santa advent calendar scam of July 2026, this week he’s dealing with Santa Watch. This is a small army of 300 elves put together by Markus (his head elf) to keep Santa from doing anything explosive or stupid.
Well, as you’ll read this has had mixed results. The good news is at least he’s hit the ground running this year, which is important as after no presents in 2025 we’re really super eager to get at least a sack of charcoal.
Santa and the 300 Security Elves
Elves have been everywhere around Santa for the last 10 days. 300 of them. Like in that 2007 film 300 with Gerard Butler. Except the 300 elves were small, squeaky voiced, and very bloody persistent! Markus, my head elf, assigned them to Santa Watch the previous week to keep my behaviour “on the right path” for Christmas 2026 so the bastards of the world can get their pathetic presents. BUT WHAT DOES THIS MEAN FOR SANTA?! Santa can’t even go to the LAVATORY without 300 elves cramming into the bathroom to keep a close eye on me.
I can sneeze without their beady eyes watching me.
And Santa has a cold, so I’ve been sneezing a lot! The elves nearest to me are all covered in snot and mucus and have also come down with colds. Serves them right! But the little bastards have stopped me from drinking and won’t let me go near my bazooka or shotgun.
The result? Factory productivity is up 1,000% on this time last year (2025). Santa even… did some paperwork. The last time I did that was in 1936, when I was so drunk on sherry I did it for a laugh with Rudolph. This time? Deadly serious, filling out taxes, signing some documents, being a the best version of myself.
No way was I let that going to stand! No bastarding way! So, on Monday I started fouling myself, eating off food, stopped washing my hands, and frequently went into the old factory unit 1 (cordoned off in 2015 following the minor nuclear mishap) to wander around without wearing a hazmat suit. My dastardly plan began to work as early as midday on Monday! The elves began to get ill with:
- Colds
- Radiation sickness
- Influenza
- Cholera
- Rabies (not even sure where that one came from tbh)
As the numbers dwindled and Nurse Doreen’s medical ward became packed out with elves, Santa was freer every day to do something new and idiotic. By Tuesday evening I was able to finally hit the drinks cabinet and start necking gin, whiskey, and whatever else I could lay my hands on. Markus (my head elf) got wind of this and attempted to have me restrained, BUT IT WAS TOO LATE.
By Wednesday morning I was up on the factory roof drunk as a skunk, firing my bazooka and shotgun wildly into the air while belching and laughing. You can’t keep a good Santa down.
500 Strong Elf Santa Watch
Markus (my head elf) responded by increasing the Santa Watch from Wednesday night. 500 of the little buggers! 500! There isn’t even a film starring Gerard Butler about that. Maybe they could make one about heroic Santa? Maybe…
But I was stuck with it. The 500 elves nailed the drinks cabinet shut and wrestled Santa to the ground, tying me in place like I was some jolly Christmas version of Gulliver’s Travels. There I lay, bellowing away in outrage, for the next 12 hours while Santa sobered up. To get my revenge, Santa repeatedly fouled myself and sneezed everywhere to make life living hell for the elves on Santa Watch. MY EMPLOYEES. TYING ME UP… what level of communism is this?!
Thursday morning they untied me and, hungover to all hell, Santa staggered off to the canteen to get a Pot Noodle. Nurse Doreen eyed me dismissively when I approached and told me her medical ward was packed out with 150 elves at present and was close to crisis point. I told her to “shut her yap”, flipped her the bird, and staggered off with my raw Pot Noodle.
Santa sat alone (as alone as ONE could be when surrounded by 500 elves) in the corner of the canteen and munched through the raw Pot Noodle noodles. They hurt my teeth and gums. Ow.
The radiation also made all the skin peel off Santa’s forearms, meaning a trip to the medical unit with the terrifying Nurse Doreen. The only employee Santa is too scared to sack!
Nurse Doreen hooked me up to a drip and slathered my forearms with Sudocrem. This made Santa bellow in agony, so Nurse Doreen made me drink half a litre of gin and then I felt quite a lot better. So much better, in fact, Santa stormed out of the medical unit and rampaged down to the canteen. There I commanded the chef (Nurse Doreen) to blast some disco beats so Santa could strut my funky stuff! She responded by playing Beach Boys and Santa hates surf music with such a violent passion I tried tearing the speakers off the walls with my bare hands.
1,000 Strong Elf Santa Watch
Markus (my head elf) got wind of my antics and stuck another 500 elves on me, bringing the total elves on Santa Watch to 1,000. This was quite the sight because they swarmed around me like a wave of elves (walves) wherever I went, chattering with each other in those stupid high-pitched voices and creating quite the din. This reached a crisis point at midday today when I moved from the bathroom back towards the canteen.
The walves surge picked up a pace and Santa was carried at speed, surfing on my elf employees as Santa blasted along until smashing violently through through a wall and splatting atop of Markus (my head elf) who was busy crunching some numbers and working his ass off.
Markus (my head elf) isn’t dead, but he’s heavily concussed. The walves then surged is back down to the medical ward with Markus’ corpse and I asked Nurse Doreen if a concussion meant he was really dead.
“No, he’s concussed.”
“So can I legally classify him as deceased, woman?”
“No.”
“And why not?!?”
“Because he is not deceased.”
“ARE YOU SURE!?!” I bellowed, mightily.
“Yes.”
But with Markus out of action for a few days to come, this meant Santa was 100% back in control. I commanded the 1,000 elves take the night off and go dancing in the old factory unit 1, which is where they all headed where squeaking at each other in those stupid high-pitched voices.
Free at last, Santa went straight to the medical ward (again) and hooked myself up to a gin drip. While also slugging from a sherry bottle. Then I had kebab. Then Santa blew my nose on my big Santa beard and hobbled on gout-ridden ankles down to wake up Rudolph.
