Christmas Full Throttle
Part 3: The Anonymous Tip
The next day, everything felt a bit like Jonas was stuck in a mix of school, a Netflix series, and a low-budget detective movie. He was sitting in biology, the teacher was explaining something about cells, but in his head only scenes from the Christmas market were playing: Sneaker-Santa, the crooked fake beard, the empty backstage area.
He stared at his notebook, doodled a tiny figure with a Christmas hat in the corner and wrote next to it: “Who are you?”
His phone vibrated under the desk. He glanced to the front – the teacher was busy with the projector. Jonas carefully slid his phone between his leg and the edge of the desk and took a quick look.
It wasn’t the Chaos Crew group. It was Instagram. A new direct message on the @ChristmasFailz account.
Unknown: “You’re looking for the Christmas market Santa, right?”
Jonas’ heart did that weird little flip you get when you might be caught – or when you’re very close to finding out something big.
Unknown: “You were at the market yesterday too. I saw you.”
Jonas froze. The account was anonymous, no profile picture, just a grey placeholder and the super-creative name “user017_xd”. Bio: empty. Followers: 0. Following: 0. Completely new.
His thumbs shook a little as he typed a reply:
@ChristmasFailz: “Who are you?”
Unknown: “Someone who knows more than you.”
@ChristmasFailz: “Bro, that sounds like a bad movie line.”
Unknown: “Still true.”
Before Jonas could type more, he heard his name.
“Jonas?” the biology teacher said sharply. “What’s so exciting that your cells don’t deserve attention today?”
A few people giggled. Jonas flinched, shoved the phone under his notebook and tried to look innocent.
“Uh… I was just thinking…,” he began, but the teacher raised a hand.
“You can show me your thought process in the next test,” he said dryly. “For now, listen – or you can explain mitochondria to the class afterwards.”
“Powerhouses of the cell,” Jonas muttered automatically.
“Very good,” the teacher said. “Then you clearly don’t need extra tasks.”
“Great,” Jonas thought.
The rest of the lesson dragged on like a laggy stream on 2 Mbit. As soon as the bell rang, Jonas was already half out the door. While walking, he fired off a message to the Chaos Crew:
Jonas: Emergency meeting in the cafeteria. Topic: Santa. All of you. Now. Or I’ll post your childhood pics.
Lea: Chill, I’m on my way anyway 😂
Sofia: Threats before noon, bold. Coming.
Mehmet: I’ll come. If there’s no food, I’m disappointed.
Five minutes later they were sitting at a table in the noisy cafeteria. Trays clattered everywhere, someone spilled cocoa, somewhere else people argued about whether you were allowed to call mashed potatoes “smashed potatoes”.
Lea pushed her juice box aside. “So? What’s up? You sound like you just found out that Santa is actually our math teacher.”
“If Mr. Berger were Santa, he’d definitely have made the kids do mental arithmetic yesterday,” Sofia said.
“And instead of candy he’d hand out worksheets,” Mehmet added. “Nightmare level 3000.”
Jonas shook his head. “No, seriously. I got a message. On @ChristmasFailz.”
Instantly, everyone looked more awake.
“Someone wrote to you?” Lea asked. “But you’re anonymous.”
“Yeah,” Jonas said. “But that doesn’t mean no one can DM the account. Look.”
He put the phone on the table so they could all see the chat.
Sofia read out loud: “‘You’re looking for the Santa, right?’… ‘I saw you’… yikes.”
“Someone watched us yesterday,” Lea said. “And whoever it is, they made a new account just for this. That’s… kind of intense.”
“Maybe it’s just some troll,” Mehmet said. “Some random trying to sound mysterious.”
Jonas shrugged. “Could be. But if it’s not a troll, they might know more than we do. And we wanted content and answers, remember?”
Lea leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “Okay. What did you reply?”
“Just ‘Who are you?’ and that he sounds like a bad movie line,” Jonas said. “Then I had to survive biology.”
“Write again,” Sofia said. “And we’ll think about whether anyone yesterday was watching us weirdly. Anyone staring, acting off?”
Jonas started typing:
@ChristmasFailz: “Okay, user017_xd – if you know so much: what do you know about the market Santa?”
All four of them stared at the screen like they could force the answer to appear faster. Three dots popped up. Disappeared. Popped up again.
“He’s typing and deleting,” Lea muttered. “Classic.”
Then the message came:
Unknown: “I’ll just say this: he isn’t who everyone thinks he is.”
Unknown: “And he has a problem. If you want to help him, don’t give up.”
Mehmet’s eyes widened. “Bro. That sounds like a trailer line.”
“He has a problem?” Sofia repeated. “What is this, premium Christmas drama?”
Jonas replied:
@ChristmasFailz: “What kind of problem? And how do you know?”
For a moment, nothing happened. Jonas realized he was nervously bouncing his leg. Someone nearby slammed their tray on the table, a fork clattered to the floor, the whole cafeteria suddenly felt way too loud.
Then the phone buzzed again.
Unknown: “Tonight. Christmas market again. Stage. Behind the roasted almonds stall.”
Unknown: “18:10. Watch who shows up late.”
Unknown: “That’s all for now.”
After that: no three dots. No answer. Nothing.
“Okay,” Lea said slowly. “Either we’re being dragged into a really bad prank… or this is going to be our best content ever.”
“And maybe we really find out what’s going on with Sneaker-Santa,” Jonas said.
“Wait,” Mehmet cut in. “What if it’s some teacher trying to catch us? Like: ‘Haha, you’re stalking Santa, now I’ll write a letter to your parents.’”
“Which teacher writes ‘xd’ and makes an account named ‘user017_xd’?” Sofia asked. “Come on.”
Jonas smirked. “Also, if it was a teacher, they’d probably send a 40-slide PowerPoint instead of an Insta DM.”
Lea stood up with a determined look. “Alright,” she said. “Plan for tonight: we’re back at the market just before six. We split up. One at the stage, one at the almond stall, one with an overview in the crowd. And one…” – she looked at Jonas – “…films everything for @ChristmasFailz.”
“I’ll take the overview,” Sofia said. “I already have that ‘I see everything’ vibe.”
“I’ll take the almonds,” Mehmet said quickly. “Purely tactical, of course.”
Lea shook her head but laughed. “Yeah sure, purely tactical. Then I’ll stay near the stage.”
Jonas nodded. “And I’m the one trying not to be noticed but still filming everything. Basically ninja influencer.”
“That sounds very unsafe, but I like the energy,” Sofia said.
The bell for the next lesson rang. All four of them groaned at the same time.
“Alright,” Lea said, grabbing her tray and moving it aside. “The school episode of this movie continues. But tonight…” – she paused for a second – “…tonight we’ll find out if user017_xd is all talk or actually knows something.”
Jonas slid his phone into his pocket and stood up. That weird feeling in his stomach was back: a mix of nerves, excitement, and a tiny hint of paranoia.
As he stepped out of the cafeteria, his phone buzzed again. He checked:
Unknown: “And one more thing: don’t trust everyone who pretends they’re just helping.”
Unknown: “Especially not people holding a microphone.”
Jonas stopped in the middle of the hallway. “What the…?” he muttered.
Instantly, he pictured the Christmas market host in his head – that guy with the way-too-loud mic and the permanent grin.
“Okay,” Jonas thought, “Christmas Challenge difficulty officially upgraded from ‘fun’ to ‘what the heck’.”
And deep down he knew: something was definitely going to happen tonight.