Jan 17, 2025
Tis was better to give than to receive… unless it’s a candy cane to the face. Merry belated Christmas, sucker. 🎄🎯
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Tis was better to give than to receive… unless it’s a candy cane to the face. Merry belated Christmas, sucker. 🎄🎯
THE LEVEL 35 STUDIO CHRISTMAS PARTY
A Seasonal Operations Report (Unofficial, Unhinged, Accurate)
INTRO
Every Christmas party starts with optimism and ends with regret. The Level 35 Studio Christmas Party was no exception—except it took longer to begin, cost more emotionally, and involved significantly more gravy than forecasted. What follows is a complete account of events, compiled from eyewitness testimony, group chat evidence, and the collective trauma of those involved.
PRE-DEPARTURE: LEAVING THE HOUSE (THEORETICAL PHASE)
This phase was marked by confidence, delay, chaos, and lies.
Emma – ‘Mistletoe Mayhem’
Attempted a punctual exit. Lost fifteen minutes searching for keys, which were eventually discovered chilling in the fridge beside the cranberry sauce, clearly enjoying a festive staycation.
Alfie – ‘Santalicious’
Announced readiness in five minutes. Entered a prolonged jumper trial involving escalating itch levels and moral defeat. Jumper four was selected under duress.
Clara – ‘Tidings Trouble’
Entered a recursive loop of coat on, candles remembered, coat off, candles extinguished, coat on, phone forgotten. Time became meaningless.
Gordon – ‘Mistletoe Mayhem’
Grabbed bag, stepped on a rogue bauble, nearly exited the mortal plane. Discovered glitter offers no comfort during near-death experiences.
Beverley – ‘The Yuletide Menace’
Attempted departure halted by cats staging a coordinated sit-in on shoes, coat, and personal resolve. Departure postponed indefinitely.
Chris – ‘Brussels Sprout Bandit’
Fully dressed, mentally ready, spiritually unstoppable—until the realisation the oven was still on. Returned at speed fuelled by insurance-based fear.
Sophie – ‘Candy Cane Chaos’
Sleeve caught violently on door handle, delivering a humbling reminder that freedom is conditional. Considered becoming a permanent indoor resident.
James – ‘Jingle Bell Menace’
Issued the command: “Grab your stuff, we’re leaving.” Everyone acknowledged. No one moved. Remained stationed at the door like an unpaid chauffeur.
Marcus – ‘Holly Havoc’
Reached the car, forgot presents. Returned. Forgot food. Returned again. Became a fixed architectural feature of the hallway.
Fin – ‘Tinsel Tornado’
Finally ready. Arms full. Opened door. Wind immediately slapped him with purpose. Nature suggested staying inside. Argument accepted.
MEETING THE GROUP (ALIGNMENT FAILURE)
A meeting time was set. A location was named. Reality disagreed.
Emma – ‘Mistletoe Mayhem’
Agreed to meet at 2pm. Arrived at 2:17 carrying coffee, panic, and a half-wrapped gift finished en route. Claimed to have been waiting ages.
Alfie – ‘Santalicious’
Declared he was “five minutes away.” Was, in fact, still in a Greggs queue securing a festive bake. Arrived mid-chew, unapologetic.
Clara – ‘Tidings Trouble’
Directed everyone to meet “by the big tree.” Failed to acknowledge the town contains dozens. Wandered like a festive cryptid until located.
Gordon – ‘Mistletoe Mayhem’
Arrived early but refused to look early. Paced in laps until visibly sweating. Appeared as though he’d run a Christmas marathon.
Beverley – ‘The Yuletide Menace’
Waited outside the pub. Accidentally selected the smoking area. Now smelled like smoked turkey and regret.
Chris – ‘Brussels Sprout Bandit’
Arrived with emergency snacks. Instantly became the most important person present. Confirmed all social events run on crisps.
Sophie – ‘Candy Cane Chaos’
Sat at the wrong fountain. Took selfies to confirm location. Process-oriented. Incorrect.
James – ‘Jingle Bell Menace’
Waved enthusiastically at the wrong family. They waved back. Situation unresolved.
Marcus – ‘Holly Havoc’
Arrived early, queued for coffee, panicked about queue length, abandoned queue, forgot meeting point entirely. Strong showing.
Fin – ‘Tinsel Tornado’
Arrived with gift bags clattering like mobile wind chimes. Less “cool arrival,” more “seasonal logistics contractor.”
FESTIVE FIT CHECK (VISUAL IMPACT ASSESSMENT)
Emma on Alfie
Alfie’s jumper was so aggressive it could be legally classified as a threat. Ugly. Stunning. Perfect.
Alfie on Emma
Emma’s coat was so fluffy it could have its own wildlife documentary. I touched it. It was justified.
Clara on Chris
Chris wore a scarf approximately the length of the M25. Looked like a wizard. A warm wizard.
Gordon on Sophie
Sophie’s boots were polished enough to show me my future. Future unclear. Boots immaculate.
Beverley on Fin
Fin’s jacket had a price tag you could feel spiritually. Executive-level outerwear.
Chris on Marcus
Marcus arrived wearing a hat with its own gravitational pull. Possibly hazardous.
Sophie on James
James wore a jumper that lights up. Effectively a walking Christmas installation.
James on Beverley
Beverley’s sequinned dress was bright enough to ping satellites.
Marcus on Clara
Clara’s matching hat and gloves were so coordinated it felt personal.
Fin on Gordon
Gordon’s corduroy was so loud it generated its own soundtrack.
FESTIVE FAILS (OPERATIONAL INCIDENT LOG)
Chris
Dropped a full tray of Yorkshire puddings. The sound echoed like a medieval battlefield. Still ate two.
Sophie
Went ice skating. Immediately fell. Took two teenagers and Santa down with her. No survivors emotionally.
James
Attempted flambé pudding. Summoned a fireball. Lost eyebrow territory. Pudding flawless.
Marcus
Pulled a cracker with excessive enthusiasm. Crown landed on Auntie Pauline. She accepted her destiny.
Fin
Tried sustainable wrapping. Created hostage-style parcels secured with industrial tape.
Emma
Applied a “subtle” Christmas fragrance. Granny sneezed like a starting pistol.
Alfie
Carved the turkey with what appeared to be a blunt gardening implement. Everyone lived.
Clara
Tried harmonising during carols. Hit a note so horrific the dog exited the room.
Gordon
Fixed fairy lights. Half the room now blinding. Half in darkness. Balance lost.
Beverley
Spilled gravy over herself like a messy baptism. Now known as The Gravy Prophet.
Chris
Bought supplies for Christmas. Accidentally stocked for nuclear winter. Pigs in blankets indefinitely.
Sophie
Placed the star on the tree. Tree immediately collapsed. Fair.
James
Ran the Christmas quiz with absolute authority. Disqualified his mum for attitude.
Marcus
Bought matching pyjamas for everyone except the dog. Dog deeply offended.
Fin
Ordered cocktails. Each stronger than the last. Final memory: challenging the landlord to a duel.
THE GOODBYES (EXIT STRATEGY FAILURE)
Emma
Said “right, let’s head off,” then spent twenty-five minutes saying goodbye individually like a diplomatic envoy.
Alfie
Attempted to leave. Heard the words “leftover dessert.” Returned to buffet immediately.
Clara
Put coat on. Received compliment. Delivered a ten-minute TED Talk on where to buy it. Still inside.
Gordon
Collected the wrong bag. Twice. Actively sabotaging progress.
Beverley
Ready to go. Saw a dog. Now emotionally bonded with a spaniel called Dennis. Not leaving.
Chris
Said “coats on.” Group responded by reorganising handbags, checking chargers, and discussing gravy at length.
Sophie
Reached the door. Door said “pull.” She pushed. Repeatedly. Witnessed. Soul destroyed.
James
Attempted a quiet exit. Stepped on a jingle bell. Departure announced like a depressed reindeer.
Marcus
Got everyone to the car. Forgot gloves. Returned. Forgot presents. Returned. Forgot dignity. Stayed in car.
Fin
Opened the boot. Everything fell out in a festive avalanche. Accepted fate.
THE MORNING AFTER (POST-EVENT RECOVERY)
Emma
Woke with a headache loud enough to pay rent. Discovered a drunk purchase: a four-foot inflatable Santa. Delivery Tuesday.
Alfie
On sofa in recovery position, eating dry crackers, praying for rebirth. Eggnog and prosecco should never meet.
Clara
Hangover so aggressive the fairy lights looked disappointed. Drank so much water she sloshed when walking.
Gordon
Woke wearing one shoe and holding a fork. Kitchen resembled a post-apocalyptic cookery show.
Beverley
Voice gone. Soul gone. Dignity missing. Playlist consisted of silence and regret.
Chris
Opened messages. Saw what was sent. Closed messages. Put phone in rice. Entered denial.
Sophie
Hair like a tumble dryer incident. Eyes like defeated raisins. Ate cold stuffing from the fridge. No regrets.
James
Negotiated with the universe. Offered to renounce sugar, swearing, and joy for headache relief.
Marcus
Stood up too fast. Saw God for several seconds. Cancelled all future parties.
Fin
Wrapped in a blanket like a Victorian plague patient. Wants water, toast, and forgiveness.
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