In the heart of the North Pole workshop, Santa stands tall with his hands on his hips, his rosy cheeks unusually stern. Around him, a group of mischievous elves shuffle nervously, their striped stockings tangled from sneaking candy canes and hiding toy parts. The twinkle in their eyes betrays their guilt, while Santa’s booming voice fills the room like rolling thunder. Behind him, the sleigh gleams, half-polished, waiting for order to be restored.
