Mrs. Claus

Welcome to the world of the classic stop-motion production Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer—except this year, things look a little different on the North Pole soundstage. After last year’s monumental holiday mishap (Santa still insists it was a “clerical error,” though no one believes him), the reins have officially been handed over. And by “reins,” we mean all of them. Every sleigh strap. Every toy list. Every cookie-inventory spreadsheet. Mrs. Claus is running the show now. Last Christmas, everyone on the Nice List mysteriously received coal, while half the Bad List woke up to $10,000 in Bitcoin and a congratulatory note signed “S. Claus :)”. Santa claims he was “experimenting with automation.” Mrs. Claus claims he should never be allowed near a keyboard again. The elves claim they’re still traumatized by the tech support tickets. Either way, the Board of Holiday Operations (which is just Mrs. Claus, three hard-eyed elf moms, and a reindeer with a clipboard) voted unanimously to put women in charge of absolutely everything this year. Mrs. Claus—long dismissed as “Santa’s quiet partner”—has revealed her true form: a whip-smart executive with the patience of a saint, the strategic mind of a general, and a look that says try me, I dare you. She’s reorganized the workshop, optimized toy production, color-coded the sleigh routes, and implemented a performance-review system that has even the reindeer drinking chamomile tea in fear. This year, the North Pole runs on time. Presents are accurate. Lists are double-checked, triple-checked, then sanity-checked. And Santa? Well, he’s been gently reassigned to a new role: cookie quality assurance. Under Mrs. Claus’s command, Christmas is no longer in jeopardy—it’s a well-oiled, peppermint-scented, female-led empire. And Rudolph? He’s just relieved he won’t be paid in cryptocurrency.