They found him just in the St Nick of time, before midnight on Christmas Eve when he should have been out doing his parcel deliveries.
But it was a close thing. Sure, he had been drinking, for there was a whiff of whisky on his breath, but it was obvious he had been detained against his will, bound and gagged. Clearly his wife had had enough of him, tied him to the rocking chair and stormed off to bed, telling him no way was he getting in bed later in that sort of state and to make his own Christmas dinner in the morning. And he could stuff his turkey she said. She didn't give a monkey's how far he said he had got to go that night. She was having nothing to do with it. Sod his Christmas malarkey.
So much for peace and goodwill to all men at Christmas.
Fortunately Santa was rescued by a helpful elf or pixie and was able to get out on last night's mission, albeit rather kate. Santa Incorporated and Elf would like to apologise in advance if you didn't get your stocking filled overnight, but hey, ho ho ho, send him your name and number and he will try to make up for it in 2020.
PS I didn't want to take the photo either, but there are pervs out there who insist I do it every year: traditional it is!
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