These fit yesterday, didn't they?
A Abby
Hot cocoa for you, Santa.
This is not a good time, Abby.
A Abby
I sent Dasher down for some Brazilian cocoa beans.
A Abby
[smiling]
What do you mean?
Whenever you play the designer bean card, generally, you have bad news. [Abby's smile fades, and he gives Santa the naughty-and-nice list] What are you doin' with the naughty-and-nice list?
A Abby
Just don't shoot the messenger. [Santa opens the naughty-and-nice list] It's... Charlie.
Sheen? I thought he straightened out?
My Charlie? My son, Charlie? He's on the naughty list?
P Puppets
[shocked]
AAAAAAH! [they hide]
This is-- There's gotta be a mistake.
A Abby
We don't make mistakes. I'm sorry, Santa. Please excuse me.
How could this happen? Is this what you were trying to tell me?
Curtis Great! You told him! Good! Let's get you dressed for that meeting.
I can't have the meeting here. I'm gonna have to see Charlie.
Number two, tell him now.
Tell me what, guys? Come on. Come clean now.
Curtis Santa, there's a clause.
Yeah, and that would be me.
Curtis No, I mean there's another Santa clause.
Curtis, in case you haven't noticed, this time of year, the malls are filled with other "Santa Clauses".
Curtis Yes, but there's another Santa clause. There was a first clause, but also a second clause.
P Puppets
Get on with it!
Curtis When the last Santa Claus fell off your roof and you put on his coat, you found this.
Right. "He who wears the coat takes on the responsibilities of Santa Claus..." Something like that, and of course, the rest would be history, right?
But it seems our number two elf, the keeper of the handbook, overlooked the single most important detail in the history of Christmas!
Curtis Wow. One mistake in 900 years.
I can't see anything. [Bernard flips a big magnifying glass up] I see. Good, good, good. I see it. Okay. Well, uh, "The card holder acknowledges a woman of his choosing. True Love... Not valid in," uh, "state of Utah. Holy...Matrimony"?! I gotta get married!
Yes, It's...the Mrs. Clause.
[the puppets hum "The Wedding March".]
What if I don't want to get married? [he starts getting thinner]
Curtis Oh, dear. The de-Santification process has begun!
The de-Santification? Are you telling me that clause says if I don't get married... I don't get to be Santa any more? [worried] Wh-- What about the kids? W-- What about the elves? What a-- What about you guys?
It's not completely hopeless, sir. You still have time to find a wife.
Right. Well, how much time do I have, Curtis?
Curtis 28 days.
28 days. So I've gotta find a wife by Christmas.
Curtis Actually, Christmas Eve.
Curtis No! You can't think that way! Please, don't give up hope. 'Cause if you do... then we have to. [the puppets sigh sadly. Suddenly, Santa's beard shrinks, and the puppets shout in shock.] [surprised] Whoa.
Christmas is getting very complicated.
Curtis [at the North Pole]
Well, I think he's learning at an excellent rate.
Curtis Yeah.
This morning, he ate a bowl of waxed fruit.
[while reading the contents of handbook of rules]
Wait a minute. I need the naughty-and-nice list.
Oh, yes, yes. It says I'm supposed to check it twice.
Santa already checked it.
I'm supposed check the list twice. That's the rule. I like the rules. I think you're aware of how I feel about that.
I think you're misunderstanding something.
No, no, I'm a rule maker. I like the rules. Santa likes the rules.
[wearing an admiral uniform]
Can I have your attention? Stop the work, please. Everybody, stop the work. [the elves stopped working] Merry Christmas! That's nice. I have a little announcement to make. From this moment forward, we're not gonna make any more toys.
E Elves
[confused]
What? Huh?
The children of the world don't deserve these presents. They're running rampant with naughtiness. So, for this Christmas, we're gonna give these greedy, selfish little kids exactly what they deserve. A beautiful, high-quality, yet-low sulfur variety of coal!
[to the other elves]
We can't give them coal.
We have to focus, all of us, on the goals ahead. And just to make sure that happens. [an elf hands him a horn] Thank you, sweetie. [chuckles] I-- I hate to blow my own horn. [blows the horn to summon the human-sized wooden toy soldiers, surrounding the elves]
Stay where you are! Don't be afraid!
Curtis Back! Back, back, back!
I was up late, couldn't sleep. Milk wouldn't do it, cocoa was a little sweet, so I decided to make my own army of toy soldiers. They don't have a good sense of humor like me. I would do what they ask you, which is pretty much what I'm going to tell you!
[can't handle the lies]
Don't listen to him! This guy's not Santa!
He's a toy! He has a rubber face, and a plastic tushy! [while being held hostage by the toy soldiers] Ohh! Trust me! Don't let him ruin Christmas!
[sarcastically]
Thank you for those kind words, Bernard. Well, now that we all have an understanding...have a...a joyous and merry Christmas! [The coal tumbles on the conveyer belts] Merry Christmas!
Curtis The toy Santa's gone completely out of control. He's locked up the elves, shut down the workshop, he thinks everybody's naughty, and he's gonna give the whole world COAL!
Well, how come Bernard didn't come down and tell me this?
Curtis He's under house arrest.
Curtis Yeah. You've gotta fly back with me to the North Pole to save Christmas!
I can't. I have no magic left. I'm out of magic, look. [shows Curtis the watch, which the handle had gone down to zero]
Curtis [grunts angrily]
I thought you had Comet.
Curtis [smiling]
Ah?
[realizing]
Yes! Come on! [cut outside to the backyard] Hey, Comet. We just-- [sees Comet is lying on the ground, morbidly obese] Comet? Comet? Look at me. Look at me. Comet. [Comet groans sickly] What are ya doin'? You're not supposed to eat sugar. It's bad for you. [Comet grunts] What do you mean, you didn't eat this? [Comet grunts] Who did?
C Comet
[grunting]
A squirrel.
Yeah, well, get this. You gotta fly both of us back to the North Pole.
Comet [grunting] The North Pole?
Yeah, tonight. Okay. I'll help you up. [Comet groans] All right? Ready? You've got to help me a little here. [tries to lift Comet, but fails] Good. Good. Okay, we almost got it. That's okay. That's okay. Okay, now, help me here. Can ya move anything? [Comet strains; notices something] Fire in the hole! [to Curtis] Get away! [Comet farts and sighs in relief] [digusted] Whoa! Eat some roughage, will you? All right. Ooh, well, what about the jet pack?
Curtis It kinda burned up on reentry.
Scott What am I supposed to do? Grow wings?
