From "The Boyfriend Joke"

But the boys weren't the only problems. No, the elves were dirty and ready to tap the ass of anything that didn't smell too bad. Years of working hard at the North Pole without any women took its toll on the creatures, and both girl and boy reindeer had to sleep with their backs against the walls on many occassions. It didn't help that Santa was starting to show the effects of early onset Alzheimer's. He wasn't a problem for the most part, but some nights the North Pole creatures had to collectively turn a blind eye to the old man ejaculating into the red Lifesaver candies stuck to the gingerbread houses. Jinny couldn't look away. She watched as the others pretended not to notice Santa feel around for the rosy openings and shook her head with wonder. Jinny didn't want a sugar coated view of the world. She appreciated honesty, and honestly thought the man was sick and in need of a good dose of reality.

Mrs. Claus also watched from her bedroom window, weary of what her marriage had become. When they were first married, she couldn't bend over to dust without her husband throwing her down for some action. That's when he first came up with the "ho, ho, ho" bit. But little by little, he began forgetting what her name was, then who she was, and finally not caring even if he did occassionally remember. As she watched her husband zip up and lumber towards their door, she pulled the covers over her head and pretended to sleep.

There was no government or magistrate in the North Pole, thus divorce wasn't an option. Even if it was, Mrs. Claus didn't want to disappoint all the hopeful children in the world. Divorce was already rampant in the world without the purveyors of good will adding to the trauma. Thus, Mrs. Claus put on a happy face and endured the endless days of who, what, when, where, why, how questions emanating from her husband's lips. Sometimes she wished Santa Claus would just drop dead.

One fateful night, Mrs. Claus snuck some brandy out of the kitchen and headed towards the icy pond. She sat herself down before pouring half the bottle down her throat. Poised to finish the bottle off, she looked up at the reindeer walking its way towards her direction. The crunching of snow under Jinny's hooves echoed through the bitter air.

"It's fucking freezing," Jinny greeted the boss' wife.

"I got warmed up pretty damn fast" Mrs. Claus giggled, holding up the bottle. "You want some?"

"No thanks. I think being barren is bad enough without being drunk," Jinny snorted. Mrs. Claus pointed out that Jinny wasn't technically barren. "No, I suppose not. But might was well be. At least then I'd have an excuse. But no, I guess I'm just picky is all."

"You don't want to settle. Look at me. My father sold me off at 13 and here I am, married to that senile old jackass."

"Excuse me, ma'am, but I've seen your husband fucking pieces of candy on cookie houses. That seems to go beyond senile, don't you think?"