Ho Ho Holy Crap, That chihuahua's Fast

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So here’s Santa — the jolly old fat guy who breaks into your house once a year — sprinting through the snow like he just got caught with his pants down. Literally. And what’s chasing him? Not the IRS, not a jealous Mrs. Claus, but a tiny, pissed-off dog chihuahua with a Napoleon complex and a taste for red velvet.
Meanwhile, back at the cabin, someone’s standing in the window like, ‘I told you not to feed the dog eggnog, you red-suited lunatic!’ And the snow? Oh, it’s falling like nature’s dandruff, just to add a little seasonal flair to this absurdity.
This ain’t your Hallmark Christmas. This is the kind of holiday chaos that makes you question everything — like why we trust a guy who wears fur in July and keeps a list of who's naughty. Spoiler: we’re all naughty. That’s why this dog’s doing God’s work.