Christmas Full Throttle
Part 5: Santa Without “Ho-ho-ho”
For a few seconds, nobody said anything. Somewhere nearby, an old space heater gurgled quietly, pretending to produce warmth while actually just producing light.
“So…,” the man finally began, “this is kind of an awkward situation right now.”
“Understatement of the year,” Sofia muttered. “We’re basically stalking Santa backstage.”
“We’re not stalking,” Jonas whispered automatically. “We’re… investigative… uh…”
“…investigative chaos?” Mehmet helped.
“Could we maybe clarify that later?” the man asked nervously. “I should honestly already be out there, smiling, waving, going ho-ho-ho and pretending everything is perfect — and right now I’m more in full ‘help-help-help’ mode.”
Lea crossed her arms. “We’re not leaving until you explain what’s going on. You know his account”—she pointed at Jonas—“and someone is messaging us telling us to look out for you. So… what’s your deal, Santa 2.0?”
The man twisted his mouth slightly, like he was deciding whether to be honest or just deny everything and hide in the red coat.
“My name is Tom,” he finally said. “Not Santa. Not Ho-ho-Hans. Just Tom.”
“Okay, Tom,” Jonas said. “I’m Jonas. Obviously. And this is Lea, Sofia, and Mehmet. And we’re…”
“…the Chaos Crew,” Sofia cut in. “Unofficially. For now.”
Tom nodded slowly. “Good. Name introductions done. That saves time.”
“You’re still dodging the question,” Lea said. “Why is an anonymous account telling us to watch out for you? Why aren’t you on stage? And why does this smell like trouble?”
Tom sighed, rubbed the bridge of his nose, and then looked straight at Jonas.
“First,” he said, “I’m back here because I’m currently trying not to lose my job. Second: I am not user017_xd, in case you’re thinking that. I may be bored sometimes, but not that bored. Third: If you want to help me, this is going to get complicated.”
“Perfect,” Mehmet said. “We’re great at complicated. Simple is boring.”
“From the beginning,” Lea said. “Why are you about to lose your job?”
Tom glanced toward the market, as if he could see the stage through the stalls. In the distance, the host’s voice could be heard, clearly working hard to keep the audience entertained.
“Because yesterday I didn’t function the way they wanted me to,” Tom said quietly. “I have my own opinion. And that’s about as welcome here as a phone during a math exam.”
Jonas frowned. “What do you mean by ‘function’?”
Tom grimaced. “The host—the guy with the permanent grin and the voice that destroys your eardrums—doesn’t just work for the market. He’s also doing promo for some agency that keeps pushing ‘sponsor actions’ here.”
“Sounds like marketing hell,” Sofia muttered.
“Yesterday they wanted me, during a kids’ activity, to not only hand out sweets, but also sneak in advertising,” Tom said. “QR codes, raffles, data collection—all that garbage. I said no. Not with kids.”
Lea raised an eyebrow. “So you’re… an ethical Santa?”
“Correct,” Tom said dryly. “With a leftover conscience. Very inconvenient in this job.”
“And then what happened?” Jonas asked.
“The host yelled at me backstage, humiliated me in front of the others, and made it very clear that I’m replaceable,” Tom said. “Either I play walking advertisement, or I’m out.”
Mehmet whistled softly. “So Mr. Microphone isn’t just annoying, but also a walking red flag.”
Jonas felt the puzzle pieces click together. “user017_xd wrote that you’re in trouble. And that people with microphones hate questions…”
“Exactly,” Tom said.
“But if you’re not that account,” Sofia asked, “then who is?”
Tom shrugged. “Someone from the crew. A helper. A vendor. No idea. But someone’s had enough of this game.”
Lea studied him. “And where do we come in?”
Tom looked straight at Jonas—so seriously that Jonas felt like he was being scanned all the way down to his most embarrassing childhood photos.
“You have reach,” Tom said. “Okay, potential reach. But people are already talking about your Santa clip. Even a colleague told me this morning she’d seen ‘a confused Santa video’—without realizing it was me.”
Jonas swallowed. “Oops.”
“It’s fine,” Tom said calmly. “The clip wasn’t the problem. The problem was that people started asking questions. And microphone people don’t like questions.”
“So what do you actually want us to do?” Mehmet asked. “Post even more videos? Because I’d be down.”
“No,” Tom said sharply. “At least not like that. If you just post chaos, I’m the one who gets burned. I’m the guy in the costume. I’m the disposable one.”
For a few seconds, it was silent. Distant applause drifted in from the stage.
“Then what do you want?” Jonas asked finally. “We want content, sure—but we’re not total monsters.”
Tom took a deep breath, like he had to convince himself that this was actually a good idea.
“I want you to help me prove what’s really going on here— without me ending up as the villain,” he said. “The shady advertising with kids. The pressure. That this whole thing is more show than Christmas.”
“So basically: true crime,” Sofia summarized, “but with mulled wine and fairy lights.”
“And you as the main character,” Lea added. “For that, you need us. And we need you. Sounds like a deal waiting to happen.”
Jonas felt his influencer brain lighting up with possibilities. “So… like a ‘Christmas Challenge undercover’? Not just fail clips, but slowly exposing what’s wrong here?”
Tom nodded slowly. “Exactly. And maybe—if people realize what’s really happening—those up front will start being more careful.”
“Or they completely lose it,” Mehmet said. “Still… sounds like content.”
“There’s just one problem,” Tom said, raising a warning finger.
“Oh boy,” Sofia muttered. “Of course there is.”
“Tonight,” Tom said, “you post nothing. No photos. No stories. No ‘Santa is actually Tom’. Nothing. If you do, I’m done. And so is whatever plan this is.”
Lea and Jonas exchanged a look. This was the exact opposite of their usual ‘post first, think later’ strategy.
“So today we just collect,” Lea said slowly. “No publishing. Like… secret pre-production.”
Jonas felt his fingers itch. Not posting? At all? His social media heart cried softly.
“And what about user017_xd?” he asked. “They sent us here. If we do nothing today, they’ll probably text tomorrow: ‘mission failed’.”
At that exact moment, Jonas’ phone vibrated again.
A new message. Of course—from user017_xd.
user017_xd: “You found him. Good.”
user017_xd: “But be careful. You’re not the only ones watching tonight.”
user017_xd: “And one of them is standing closer to you than you think.”
A chill crawled up Jonas’ neck. Slowly, he turned his head.
At the far end of the storage area, half-hidden behind a crate, he thought he saw movement. A dark jacket. A shadow. And something that looked suspiciously like a phone in someone’s hand.
“Uh…,” Mehmet said quietly. “I really hope that was just a box. Otherwise, we just unlocked the ‘Christmas thriller’ difficulty.”