
Another Year... as Santa... Oh Dear
It took almost a year, but Sarge finally managed to drop all the weight he put on from Christmas last year. He’d spend a great deal of time exercising and shaving his beard every day. Over time, the beard hairs thinned out, and his belly shrank. He wasn’t sure if it was due to his exercising or if these things just naturally happened.
“The reality warping was really weird, though,” Sarge grumbled with a listless tone. He saw his reflection in the mirror. It was looking as young as he’d remembered he was – thirty-five. He had trouble remembering what he’d done the last five years, but he swore he signed that Mall Santa contract when he was thirty.
“Has it really been five years?” Sarge whined and looked down at his belly. It still had a good deal of pudge on it, but he could wear a 2XL shirt again without his belly peaking out. He was thankful for that, at least.
After washing himself up, Sarge grabbed a pair of pants he’d bought years ago that he never wore. He’d grown out of them so quickly, too. He remembered talking with Indigo the night he bought them, and the next day they were too tight for him. Now, they fit snugly. Maybe a bit too snug, but he’d be able to wear them with a belt in a month if he kept up his habits. For now, though, he was tired. So he took them off and put on his Pajamas.
“I’m just glad to be thirty-five again. When I look back on it, I don’t remember ever thinking it was weird I was getting so old… so fast….” Sarge dropped on his bed and smiled. “That’s the last time I sign a contract to be a mall Santa.”
Sarge yawned and closed his eyes. He drifted off to sleep.
~~~~~
The next morning, Sarge felt like most of his energy was gone. He dreamt that he’d gone to a buffet with thousands of different kinds of cookies. Instead of having just one, he sampled them all, and downed them with a glass of milk per cookie. His belly expanded as he became more and more bloated, but he kept feasting. His dream ended with a small man, clad in green saying, “time to wake up, Santa!”
“Urgh.” Sarge rubbed his forehead. “Am I really getting PTSD from that? I hadn’t dreamed about Christmas stuff almost all year!”
Sarge groggily sat up and scratched his arm. Something didn’t feel right, though. He opened his eyes and felt his heart immediately drop. A large expanse of cream and brown fur, speckled with a few gray hairs, rested on his lap. He thought he was still dreaming, but when he jumped out of bed, he certainly felt the weight of the belly fully jolt him awake.
“What in the-” Sarge exclaimed. “No, no, no!” He slapped his hands to both sides of his belly and hoisted it up. He’d just gotten rid of this thing! Why was it back? How long was he out for?
Sarge looked at his phone. It merely said it was December 1st, 2024. He distinctly remembered yesterday being November 30th, 2024. So… time didn’t skip forward. At least he didn’t think it did.
“But… but how?” Sarge ran to the bathroom and looked at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes widened when he saw a big, brown, bushy beard covering his face. He’d spent an entire year shaving it down. It started growing back more slowly over time until basically nothing was left. But now, it was back, completely, over night?!
“M-maybe I’m hallucinating!” Sarge gulped. He ran back to his bedroom and pulled out the pants he tried on last night. Hoisting them up to his waistline proved difficult as his thighs were too thick for the legs. He could only get it up slightly below his belly’s overhang. He tried to fasten it up, but he was just too wide now.
Sarge lowered his ears and whined. He tried fruitlessly to pull the pants together, but it still didn’t work. “Oh come on. Come ON! I JUST GOT RID OF YOU, BELLY!”
Sarge squished his belly together. It was certainly feeling bigger and more plump now. Now that he was focused on it, he could also smell a distinct fragrance of gingerbread. This feeling was all too familiar.
“Well, ho, ho, ho… no.” Sarge let go of his pants and stared in horror. It was happening again. But why? He didn’t sign any contract this year. He made sure to avoid any contracts at all, whether it was cellphones, art programs, or anything that remotely said, “I agree to the terms and services”.
Out of the corner of his eye, Sarge saw a small flurry of white particles that looked very similar to snowflakes. He turned his head and saw a small business card floating in the air. Its edges were colored with a bright, red design. Sitting in big letters on the middle of the card was a simple, “Welcome Back, Santa!”
Sarge clenched his fists and turned away from the card. Maybe, if he didn’t look at it, it’d leave him alone and he’d go back to normal?
The card floated back into Sarge’s line of sight. Sarge groaned and grabbed the card. He saw that its text changed. “Is something wrong?” it asked.
“Yeah! Something’s wrong!” Sarge gestured to himself. “I just got rid of this stupid belly, and now it’s back overnight! My beard grew back, too! I don’t even HAVE a beard normally!”
“It’s part of being Santa!” the card said.
“But I’m not! I’m Sarge! I signed that silly contract… five? Yeah! Five! I signed that contract five years ago!” Sarge put his finger to his chin and scratched it. “Okay, honestly, I can’t remember the last five years….”
“The contract was signed December 1st, 2023. Last year.”
“Fine! I signed it last year! That was for a MALL SANTA job!” Sarge blurted out. “Not for some fudging, full-time career that makes me get old and fat!”
Sarge slapped a hand to his face, trying to internalize what was being said. “Ho, ho, ho… Fudgy sprinkles!” He opened his eyes slowly and frowned. “Fudge. Fudge. Fudgy. Sprinkles. Ho, ho, ho. Donuts. Donuts. FUDGY SPRINKLE DONUTS!”
Sarge slapped a hand to his mouth. “The Ho, ho, ho is happening? Did my vernacular change?!”
The card replied. “Santa is meant for all people of all ages. You are not allowed to cuss.”
“I certainly never cussed before, but I’m so infuriated that I could cuss now.” Sarge pinched the bridge of his nose. “How about you tell me what the fudge is going on? Why is this happening again? I can’t be old!”
“You did such a stellar job as Santa last year, we decided to hire you again. You were the top performer of all Santas!”
“Then get the next best! I don’t want this! I refuse!” Sarge grabbed the card and lifted it to his nose. “I quit!”
“Contractually, this is not allowed.”
“Where in the contract did it say that?!” Sarge growled.
The card immediately changed its text to what appeared to be hundreds-of-pages-worth of text… but it was so small Sarge couldn’t read it.
“I can’t read that! It’s too small!” Sarge released the card and dropped down to the bed. He dropped his head into his hands and gritted his teeth. “Ho, ho, ho. I can’t deal with this! I have a job, you know. I have to make a living outside of being Santa!”
The card fluttered over to Sarge again. “Does Santa need accommodations?”
“Accommodations? What kind of accommodations?”
“Ensured job security, glasses for your poor vision, and proper garments to fit your size?”
“What? I didn’t want any of this to begin with!” Sarge lowered his ears. “Are you sure I can’t say no?”
“……. This may take time to research into. In the mean time, prepare yourself for the season. You are about thirty percent done with the transition period. This card will return with more information before Christmas.”
“Joy.” Sarge huffed and hoisted himself out of bed. He swore his belly had gotten bigger during their conversation. “Fine. Sure. Accommodations. Get me that info too, please. Just let me tell my boss-”
“Job security enabled.” The card started to spin in a circle. Though it started out slowly, it began picking up speed until it was a blur of white. The blur shrank until it disappeared from existence, leaving Sarge in his ill-fitting jeans and the body he knew was going to get fatter… very fast… very soon.
~~~~~
The next day, Sarge tried to call his boss, but they only acted confused when he tried saying his name. “Sorry, Santa, Sarge is currently on company-paid leave.”
Sarge tried to protest that he was Sarge, but his boss kept insisting he was ‘Santa’.
After a week, Santa started craving more sweets. He went to a bakery, and they gave him a box of cookies for free. They said it was a gift from the North Pole for Santa to help him get into the Christmas spirit.
On the second week, Santa had noted his weight had increased by over two-hundred pounds. Surprisingly, he didn’t gain any new stretchmarks because of it. Rather, his body felt… normal. Being this big felt good to him. He also started liking the grizzled appearance of his beard. He knew he looked in his sixties now, but that wasn’t too big of an issue.
On December twenty-third, the card returned while Santa was strapping on his peppermint suspenders. He tried looking at the card but found it was too blurry for him in his old age. The card responded by fluttering into his hands. When Santa grabbed around the card, he felt something small and metallic. He recognized these as his spectacles.
“Ho, ho, ho! That’s where my specs went!” Santa put his specs on and noticed he could see properly now. He examined the card.
“Enjoy our complimentary glasses to help your old eyes read the naughty and nice list,” it said.
“That’s quite thoughtful of you. Thank you,” Santa chuckled.
The card changed its text. “Here is the contract again, as per your request. Specific points you brought up are highlighted.”
Santa narrowed his eyes and leaned in close. With his new glasses, he could finally see the small text. “Jiminy Christmas! This fine print is so small!”
The text read: “By signing your name, you hereby state that your name will be Santa when applicable and, therein, withdraw all rights to your previous name during these applicable periods of time… The choice for each individual Santa to be considered for the position of Santa is based on performance, jolliness, and aesthetics. When an individual scores the highest in a previous year, they will be considered for Santa the following year. If five, successive years of an individual’s service as Santa are noted, the individual will be claimed as the permanent Santa until retirement in one-hundred years.”
Santa leaned back and whistled. “Well… fudge.”
~~~~~
Had to do a follow up from last year's Christmas. >:3c Enjoy another Sarge, Santa TF as his Santa story continues!
(Here's last year's picture: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/54806866/ )
~~~~~
Sarge/Art/Story ©
pikminpedia Me
“The reality warping was really weird, though,” Sarge grumbled with a listless tone. He saw his reflection in the mirror. It was looking as young as he’d remembered he was – thirty-five. He had trouble remembering what he’d done the last five years, but he swore he signed that Mall Santa contract when he was thirty.
“Has it really been five years?” Sarge whined and looked down at his belly. It still had a good deal of pudge on it, but he could wear a 2XL shirt again without his belly peaking out. He was thankful for that, at least.
After washing himself up, Sarge grabbed a pair of pants he’d bought years ago that he never wore. He’d grown out of them so quickly, too. He remembered talking with Indigo the night he bought them, and the next day they were too tight for him. Now, they fit snugly. Maybe a bit too snug, but he’d be able to wear them with a belt in a month if he kept up his habits. For now, though, he was tired. So he took them off and put on his Pajamas.
“I’m just glad to be thirty-five again. When I look back on it, I don’t remember ever thinking it was weird I was getting so old… so fast….” Sarge dropped on his bed and smiled. “That’s the last time I sign a contract to be a mall Santa.”
Sarge yawned and closed his eyes. He drifted off to sleep.
~~~~~
The next morning, Sarge felt like most of his energy was gone. He dreamt that he’d gone to a buffet with thousands of different kinds of cookies. Instead of having just one, he sampled them all, and downed them with a glass of milk per cookie. His belly expanded as he became more and more bloated, but he kept feasting. His dream ended with a small man, clad in green saying, “time to wake up, Santa!”
“Urgh.” Sarge rubbed his forehead. “Am I really getting PTSD from that? I hadn’t dreamed about Christmas stuff almost all year!”
Sarge groggily sat up and scratched his arm. Something didn’t feel right, though. He opened his eyes and felt his heart immediately drop. A large expanse of cream and brown fur, speckled with a few gray hairs, rested on his lap. He thought he was still dreaming, but when he jumped out of bed, he certainly felt the weight of the belly fully jolt him awake.
“What in the-” Sarge exclaimed. “No, no, no!” He slapped his hands to both sides of his belly and hoisted it up. He’d just gotten rid of this thing! Why was it back? How long was he out for?
Sarge looked at his phone. It merely said it was December 1st, 2024. He distinctly remembered yesterday being November 30th, 2024. So… time didn’t skip forward. At least he didn’t think it did.
“But… but how?” Sarge ran to the bathroom and looked at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes widened when he saw a big, brown, bushy beard covering his face. He’d spent an entire year shaving it down. It started growing back more slowly over time until basically nothing was left. But now, it was back, completely, over night?!
“M-maybe I’m hallucinating!” Sarge gulped. He ran back to his bedroom and pulled out the pants he tried on last night. Hoisting them up to his waistline proved difficult as his thighs were too thick for the legs. He could only get it up slightly below his belly’s overhang. He tried to fasten it up, but he was just too wide now.
Sarge lowered his ears and whined. He tried fruitlessly to pull the pants together, but it still didn’t work. “Oh come on. Come ON! I JUST GOT RID OF YOU, BELLY!”
Sarge squished his belly together. It was certainly feeling bigger and more plump now. Now that he was focused on it, he could also smell a distinct fragrance of gingerbread. This feeling was all too familiar.
“Well, ho, ho, ho… no.” Sarge let go of his pants and stared in horror. It was happening again. But why? He didn’t sign any contract this year. He made sure to avoid any contracts at all, whether it was cellphones, art programs, or anything that remotely said, “I agree to the terms and services”.
Out of the corner of his eye, Sarge saw a small flurry of white particles that looked very similar to snowflakes. He turned his head and saw a small business card floating in the air. Its edges were colored with a bright, red design. Sitting in big letters on the middle of the card was a simple, “Welcome Back, Santa!”
Sarge clenched his fists and turned away from the card. Maybe, if he didn’t look at it, it’d leave him alone and he’d go back to normal?
The card floated back into Sarge’s line of sight. Sarge groaned and grabbed the card. He saw that its text changed. “Is something wrong?” it asked.
“Yeah! Something’s wrong!” Sarge gestured to himself. “I just got rid of this stupid belly, and now it’s back overnight! My beard grew back, too! I don’t even HAVE a beard normally!”
“It’s part of being Santa!” the card said.
“But I’m not! I’m Sarge! I signed that silly contract… five? Yeah! Five! I signed that contract five years ago!” Sarge put his finger to his chin and scratched it. “Okay, honestly, I can’t remember the last five years….”
“The contract was signed December 1st, 2023. Last year.”
“Fine! I signed it last year! That was for a MALL SANTA job!” Sarge blurted out. “Not for some fudging, full-time career that makes me get old and fat!”
Sarge slapped a hand to his face, trying to internalize what was being said. “Ho, ho, ho… Fudgy sprinkles!” He opened his eyes slowly and frowned. “Fudge. Fudge. Fudgy. Sprinkles. Ho, ho, ho. Donuts. Donuts. FUDGY SPRINKLE DONUTS!”
Sarge slapped a hand to his mouth. “The Ho, ho, ho is happening? Did my vernacular change?!”
The card replied. “Santa is meant for all people of all ages. You are not allowed to cuss.”
“I certainly never cussed before, but I’m so infuriated that I could cuss now.” Sarge pinched the bridge of his nose. “How about you tell me what the fudge is going on? Why is this happening again? I can’t be old!”
“You did such a stellar job as Santa last year, we decided to hire you again. You were the top performer of all Santas!”
“Then get the next best! I don’t want this! I refuse!” Sarge grabbed the card and lifted it to his nose. “I quit!”
“Contractually, this is not allowed.”
“Where in the contract did it say that?!” Sarge growled.
The card immediately changed its text to what appeared to be hundreds-of-pages-worth of text… but it was so small Sarge couldn’t read it.
“I can’t read that! It’s too small!” Sarge released the card and dropped down to the bed. He dropped his head into his hands and gritted his teeth. “Ho, ho, ho. I can’t deal with this! I have a job, you know. I have to make a living outside of being Santa!”
The card fluttered over to Sarge again. “Does Santa need accommodations?”
“Accommodations? What kind of accommodations?”
“Ensured job security, glasses for your poor vision, and proper garments to fit your size?”
“What? I didn’t want any of this to begin with!” Sarge lowered his ears. “Are you sure I can’t say no?”
“……. This may take time to research into. In the mean time, prepare yourself for the season. You are about thirty percent done with the transition period. This card will return with more information before Christmas.”
“Joy.” Sarge huffed and hoisted himself out of bed. He swore his belly had gotten bigger during their conversation. “Fine. Sure. Accommodations. Get me that info too, please. Just let me tell my boss-”
“Job security enabled.” The card started to spin in a circle. Though it started out slowly, it began picking up speed until it was a blur of white. The blur shrank until it disappeared from existence, leaving Sarge in his ill-fitting jeans and the body he knew was going to get fatter… very fast… very soon.
~~~~~
The next day, Sarge tried to call his boss, but they only acted confused when he tried saying his name. “Sorry, Santa, Sarge is currently on company-paid leave.”
Sarge tried to protest that he was Sarge, but his boss kept insisting he was ‘Santa’.
After a week, Santa started craving more sweets. He went to a bakery, and they gave him a box of cookies for free. They said it was a gift from the North Pole for Santa to help him get into the Christmas spirit.
On the second week, Santa had noted his weight had increased by over two-hundred pounds. Surprisingly, he didn’t gain any new stretchmarks because of it. Rather, his body felt… normal. Being this big felt good to him. He also started liking the grizzled appearance of his beard. He knew he looked in his sixties now, but that wasn’t too big of an issue.
On December twenty-third, the card returned while Santa was strapping on his peppermint suspenders. He tried looking at the card but found it was too blurry for him in his old age. The card responded by fluttering into his hands. When Santa grabbed around the card, he felt something small and metallic. He recognized these as his spectacles.
“Ho, ho, ho! That’s where my specs went!” Santa put his specs on and noticed he could see properly now. He examined the card.
“Enjoy our complimentary glasses to help your old eyes read the naughty and nice list,” it said.
“That’s quite thoughtful of you. Thank you,” Santa chuckled.
The card changed its text. “Here is the contract again, as per your request. Specific points you brought up are highlighted.”
Santa narrowed his eyes and leaned in close. With his new glasses, he could finally see the small text. “Jiminy Christmas! This fine print is so small!”
The text read: “By signing your name, you hereby state that your name will be Santa when applicable and, therein, withdraw all rights to your previous name during these applicable periods of time… The choice for each individual Santa to be considered for the position of Santa is based on performance, jolliness, and aesthetics. When an individual scores the highest in a previous year, they will be considered for Santa the following year. If five, successive years of an individual’s service as Santa are noted, the individual will be claimed as the permanent Santa until retirement in one-hundred years.”
Santa leaned back and whistled. “Well… fudge.”
~~~~~
Had to do a follow up from last year's Christmas. >:3c Enjoy another Sarge, Santa TF as his Santa story continues!
(Here's last year's picture: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/54806866/ )
~~~~~
Sarge/Art/Story ©

Category Artwork (Digital) / Fat Furs
Species Werewolf / Lycanthrope
Size 3467 x 1032px
File Size 239.2 kB
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