# Sleigh bells ring, are you listening?
# In the lane snow is glistening
# A beautiful sight, we're happy tonight
# Walking in a winter wonderland
- Sweetie. - Angela, I don't want to.
Sweetie, could you stop galloping?
Better able to withstand pressure when you can't catch me.
Call it a favour.
How is me going to a company Christmas party a favour?
- Remember what happened last year? - I didn't go.
Exactly. It took me weeks to collect all those photocopies.
I need you. Friends don't let friends photocopy their butts at company parties.
- There's a secret Santa. - I don't like secret Santa.
The idea that we are forced by convention to exchange meaningless gifts...
Yeah. If you rearrange "secret Santa", though, you get "secret Satan".
- What possible meaning could that have? - I've already had an eggnog, if you can't tell.
How am I gonna enjoy this party knowing that my best friend in the world is in the lab,
eyeball to eyeball with Skeletor?
- Who? - He's a cartoon villain who looks like...
You know, his name is self-explanatory. Would you please just come to this party?
Phew.
- 20 minutes. - Bones. All right.
- Merry Christmas, Seeley. - Oh, wow. Oof!
- What are you? An elf? - Yes.
What's wrong with a little Christmas spirit?
- What's the context? - A property on Dupont Circle,
where Congress puts up agricultural specialists, or something.
They're digging to put in a solarium and they find a fallout shelter with a skeleton inside.
- How long was it in there? - It was built in the '50s. That A-bomb panic.
- It's not a suicide. - Why? Hole in the head, the gun - suicide.
He shoots himself in the head and somehow his arm ends up across his chest?
Bring the skeleton. I'll prove it wasn't suicide.
Merry Christmas, Bones.
- Come on, boys, bring it in. - Oh, no. We're going to the company party.
Go ahead. I'll do a cursory examination and meet you in a few minutes.
All right. There you go. Wow.
Booth, will you escort Angela to the party and make sure she doesn't photocopy her butt?
No, I can't do that. I got some last-minute Christmas shopping that I gotta do.
- It's not last-minute until tomorrow. - Come on, Bones. Bones. I gotta...
- Come on. - Jeez.
Stop.
Stop!
Turn.
Your robot reminds me of you. You tell it to turn, it stops. You tell it to stop, it turns.
You ask it to take out garbage, it watches reruns of Firefly.
After I fix the voice recognition protocols, this is going to blow those gomers at MIT away.
We've got about half a litre of pure alcohol here.
Dump it in the eggnog, we've got the best Christmas party in history.
- I brought eggnog. - I can't drink while I work.
- Good thing I didn't bring it for you. - Crystal is after you.
Like Alien after Predator.
Sit!
- What have you got there? - Two open tickets to Paris.
One-way. Pan Transit Airlines.
- They're blank. - Pan Transit went bust in the '60s.
- I thought you were at the party. - It's not a party, it's a Star Wars convention.
This was still in the skull.
.22 calibre, matches the gun. Did you open up the suitcase?
- Nope. - Why not?
Its contents could compromise my objectivity.
- Yeah, like a name and address? - I prefer unbiased initial observations.
- Is that pure alcohol? - Yes, Dr Brennan.
You think Goodman will let you spike the eggnog after the Fourth of July fiasco?
- We may have to rethink. - Zack, clean these bones.
- Now? - Ha! Burnt.
And I need you to search the clothing for insect evidence.
Jeez, Bones, merry Christmas.
OK. You people listen to me.
There is a party going on upstairs, OK? A Christmas party.
We're going up there. We're gonna talk to some people, sing some carols, drink eggnog.
You are going to kiss me under the mistletoe. On the lips.
I might kiss you guys under the mistletoe too.
Maybe even you. In a festive, nonlesbian manner.
But we are going to that party.
- Put on a mask. I'm taking core samples. - OK.
- What's that? - Biological contamination.
Zack!
Whoa!
- The doors seal automatically. Don't worry. - What do you mean, don't worry?
Don't panic until we know what it is.
- What what is? - We might know.
I cut into the fallout shelter bones and the biohazard alarm went off.
- Were you conforming to autopsy protocol? - One of us was.
The other was drinking an eggnog.
And you didn't have your mask on? Oh!
- The pathogen is coccidioidomycosis. - Valley fever?
It was picked up in the scanner in the discharge vent at Mr Addy's station.
- What's valley fever? - A fungus that can lead to pneumonia,
spontaneous abortion. Death.
The alarm sounded after Mr Addy cut into a human bone. That was the source.
- Was he following autopsy protocol? - Of course. However...
I was drinking an eggnog.
And he's with you, breathing the same air.
I got into the decontamination shower with Zack. Haven't I been through enough hell?
- Is he contagious? - He may have inhaled the spores, yes.
OK. It must suck to be Hodgins, but the rest of us didn't inhale. So it's OK that I go, right?
Dr Hodgins may have exhaled the spores all over us.
We must impose quarantine. Valley fever can be fatal, and we can't risk a pandemic.
Just calm down and let us handle things from this side.
Anyone besides me worried that a guy dressed like Santa is in charge?
Merry Christmas.
You know what? If this is fatal, I will shoot both of you.
Maybe you guys could go get dressed.
I zapped the bones with ultraviolet light and put them on the isolation table, so no spores.
I found this sewn into the lining of his clothing.
- A woman's wedding band. - Two tickets to Paris, a picture forms.
Don't form pictures. Accumulate evidence. Dental work?
Acrylic resins in the interior fillings from the 1940s.
Childhood tibia break. Bad enough that he walked with a limp. Also, he wore a toupee.
- It hasn't degraded. - It's made of a synthetic called Dynel.
It couldn't have looked good.
This is a cocktail of four antifungal drugs, including amphotericin B.
You'll be taking ketoconazole, fluconazole and itraconazole.
Then we can leave?
We won't know for a couple of days if the fungus took hold in you.
Whoa! You're saying that we're stuck here over Christmas?
Look, you know, I have... places to go.
- I have obligations. - We all have.
- I'm supposed to go to Quebec. - Whose fault is this?
Who forced me to go to the party where I drank too much?
Who never should have cut a bone with a drunken fool in the room?
- Who brought us human remains? - You're saying that this is my fault?
- You knew Dr Brennan could not resist. - I could have resisted had I been in Niger.
- You're blaming me. - We'll have sleeping bags delivered.
Have your loved ones call me and we'll set up a safe quarantine visit on Christmas Eve.
Oh, and be prepared for side effects.
Nausea, fever, insomnia?
In rare cases euphoria, dream state, mild hallucinations.
I'll take that.
- Early symptoms mimic a cold. - What if it manifests?
Treatment involves painful injections into the base of the brain.
You know what? I never realised how pretty all this shiny stuff is.
That is so not fair.
Tomorrow I was leaving for Quebec. You wanna know the true meaning of Christmas?
It's being inside a 300-year-old inn with a masseuse when there's 10ft of snow outside.
Christmas is going home to Michigan and cutting a Christmas tree with your brothers,
and you all decorate it together - brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews.
40 people who love you and are happy to see you.
That, my friend, is the true meaning of Christmas.
Nah, I'm gonna have to go with the masseuse on this one.
What are those little tiny lights dancing on the ceiling?
For the third time, those are minute firings of neurons on your optic nerve
due to a reaction to the antifungal cocktail.
Wow!
They're beautiful.
You are stoned, Agent Booth.
Oh, good.
Let's hope it lasts long enough to keep this from being the worst Christmas of my life.
What are you complaining about? I don't like to boast,
but I am the spirit of Christmas in my house.
I have a wife and twin 5-year-old daughters.
We have family traditions. The most important is being together for Christmas.
Wow. They're beautiful.
You know...
I have a kid too.
His name's Parker.
He's four years old. His mother wouldn't marry me so my parental rights are totally f...
- Vague? - That's Christmassier than what I thought.
- He's a fine-looking boy. - I get him part of Christmas Day.
I get him an excellent present every year, something really cool. But this year...
Yes. This year...
What are those little lights on the ceiling again?
I know it's against your nature, but I need your help.
- For what? - To make Christmas.
Why? Because we're the girls?
Yes. We have to decorate and we have to make our own secret Santa.
You called it "secret Satan" before.
It's all so tragic. The cheap wedding ring sewn into his suit. Two tickets to Paris.
It makes you wonder, who was the girl? Can you imagine what it was like for her?
Waiting and wondering, never knowing what happened.
- I don't have to imagine. - What do you mean?
- I tell you what I'm gonna do for Christmas. - Good. Thank you.
At last you decide to take part.
I'm gonna solve a murder.
Bones, it's after midnight. Hm?
Christmas Eve day. Both an eve and a day, it's a Christmas miracle.
Still enjoying your medication, I see.
OK. So, what are we looking at?
There are traces of lead and nickel on the guy's osteological profile.
You don't seem upset to miss Christmas.
Indications are that Christ, if he existed, was born in spring,
and the celebration of his birth was shifted to the winter solstice
so early Christians weren't persecuted.
- Hm. Who are you? The Christmas killer? - It's the truth.
It sounds like the truth cos it's so rational, right?
But, you know, the true truth is that you hate Christmas
so you just spout out all these facts and you ruin it for everyone else.
I ruin the true truth with facts?
You ruined it for the squint squad by making them work on a case
about a guy who's been sealed up in a fallout shelter for 50 years.
How should I spend my Christmas?
Christmas is the perfect time to re-examine your standing with... you know.
- A helicopter pilot? - Oh, right, right.
You can't measure the man upstairs in a beaker so he can't possibly exist.
- The man upstairs? - Hm.
You don't know if you're sick, but you're willing to take drugs just in case.
Seems to me you could give the man upstairs the same benefit of the doubt
that you do an invisible fungus.
Hm.
In some cases of valley fever suppurating skin lesions appear.
Could someone in responsibility please order Zack to shut up?
Coffee, coffee.
- Good morning, Ms Montenegro. - Where'd this come from?
A hazmat team brought it over this morning. Very appetising.
- Are you back with us? - Yeah, think so.
Since we're stuck together for Christmas, we should make the most of it.
- How? - Decorate, and exchange handmade gifts.
- An excellent idea. - I can get behind that.
- I'm in. - As am I.
- How about Bones? - Hm...
What's the deal with Bones and Christmas?
Last night I spun a little story about two young lovers running off to Paris,
but the man never shows up and the woman is left wondering.
And I say, "Imagine what that must have been like."
And Brennan says, "I don't have to."
I still don't get it.
- Oh, my God. - What?
Brennan's parents disappeared just before Christmas. She was 15.
- And she never knew what happened to them. - Oh, God. That explains a lot.
- Yeah. - We need a way to choose our secret Santas.
- I could build a random generator. - Wouldn't it be better to match people?
I got five numbers and five letters. Tell me the number, I tell you the letter.
- Are letters sequential? - Sequential. We'll go oldest to youngest.
- Six. - There's no six.
A through E and one through five.
Just pick a name and if you get your own put it back in.
- That could work. - Good idea.
Feds seized the house from a man named Gil Atkins.
Proceeds of crime from fencing, dealing in jewels, art.
Atkins built the fallout shelter in '51, sealed it in '58, died in '83. What have you got?
Nothing much special about our victim. You know about the toupee?
Below average height, below average weight. A little frail. Bad back.
- He had a hunch, maybe from paperwork. - So basically a wimp.
- Contents of his pockets. - Compass, penknife, some change.
I got Goodman for this secret Santa and...
Anthropologically, gifts assert dominance in a group.
Imagine a holiday devoted to self-promotion, especially in this materialistic culture.
How can you expect me to get behind that? How can you?
Wow. That's deep. That's a very deep pile of crap.
You came to me with information, a peace offering,
but it was to make you feel better, not me. Proves my point. Any idea what this is?
- No. - Me neither. Try Dr Goodman.
You know, Bones, you make it very, very hard for me to be nice to you.
We have to be extremely creative.
A bunch of test tubes filled with luminescent liquid.
- Very festive. - Probably give us cancer.
- That would be fitting this Christmas. - Tidings of joy, gentlemen. Joy.
Decorations do not a Christmas make, family and friends do.
We're friends.
- Or not friends. - We are colleagues, friends, co-workers, yes,
but for a father like myself, like Agent Booth,
test tubes don't make up for missing the children.
- Excuse me? - Be kind, rewind.
- Booth has a kid? - Ah...
Well, not common knowledge, I gather.
I see you've decided to help Dr Brennan with the case.
Oh, you know, if Angela's right, sure. Why not? I mean...
A little something for Bones. Call it Christmas spirit.
My thoughts exactly. Um...
I thought I might look at the contents of the suitcase with you.
Why?
It beats making decorations out of pipettes and cylinders.
I mean, what makes you qualified to look at clues?
I'm an archaeologist. I'm good with artefacts. Do you mind?
No. Archaeologist. I thought you were an administrator.
I didn't start out that way. He was fastidious.
Everything neatly folded as though by a trained valet.
This man was by no means wealthy. All the clothing is well-used and mended.
Look, Blackman and Ball, fine tailors, Washington, DC.
The rest of his clothes are all labelled from Tulsa, Oklahoma.
- Female handwriting. - How'd you get that?
After cuneiform, handwriting is a snap.
- "Dearest Lionel." - No envelopes, no return address.
No signature either, just this drawing of a leaf.
They seem to be dated from the summer of 1957 through to early winter of 1958.
- With permission, I'll read these. - Yeah.
Bones thought you might know what this is here.
Oh.
Hey, Rebecca.
Thanks for calling. You heard what happened?
- It seems to be some kind of a pouch. - You don't have to see me.
Sid agreed to bring him by.
Don't make me beg.
Thank you.
- Everything all right? - Yeah.
- Puparia show Lionel had valley fever. - We knew that.
Wow. Was that a shot? Because I apologised.
Goodman can't see his family. Zack can't see his kids. Booth can't see his son.
I'm an accidental grinch. You're the Grinch on purpose.
- I have no idea what you're saying to me. - The Grinch is a creation of Dr Seuss.
I got Angela for my secret Santa.
What I want to do is blow up a microscopic imagery of a toxic mould.
She's interested in fractals. That might appeal to her. Do you agree?
I'm not really who you want to talk to about gifts. Booth has a kid?
- You didn't know? - No.
I wasn't the one who told you.
Fall 1958, heavyweight suit.
Kinda small, wool, black. First name Lionel. That's all I got.
Thanks. I appreciate it, it being Christmas Eve and all. I'll hold.
Lionel had a suit here made in town.
The tailor's still exists. His grandson owns it. Get this.
They kept records. We may find Careful Lionel's name.
- Careful Lionel? - Yeah. Little guy, toupee.
Drank a vitamin tonic. Carried his own compass. All his stuff just so. Careful Lionel.
- What was he worried about? - Considering how he ended up...
You have a son?
- Yeah. - You've never mentioned that.
Nothing brings people together like a Christmas lung fungus.
Yes. That's great. When?
Great. Thank you. Merry Christmas.
Lionel Little. OK? He picked up his new suit on November 7, 1958.
He paid cash. He was supposed to come back the next day for a shirt.
But get this, he never showed up. It was his wedding shirt.
Whoa! Bless you.
Uh-oh. Is that valley fever?
Bones?
So if Lionel was a coin collector, that might explain the levels of lead and nickel.
When do they insert the needle into your brain?
I sneezed because the air is dry. It's not valley fever.
- Any other symptoms? Headache? - Any foul-smelling pustules on your shins?
She sneezed twice. Anything about the letters?
Quite a lot, yes. They are very, very passionate love letters.
- Careful Lionel had a girlfriend. - In trouble.
- Pregnant in trouble? - Careful Lionel wasn't so careful.
Unmarried pregnant girl in Oklahoma in the late '50s.
Lionel came up here to procure an abortion?
This isn't a very Christmas Eve-type story.
Of course it is. The Christ myth is built upon the travails of an unwed mother.
OK, stop bringing up the Christ myth thing. Some people believe it's more than a myth.
- Who besides you? - That'd be me. I'm a deacon at my church.
I do. Christmas and Easter, anyway.
Although I believe organised religion is just another movement to control the masses,
it doesn't mean God doesn't love me.
I'm a rational empiricist all the way.
Unless you talk to my mother.
Then I'm Lutheran.
I can understand why you'd be sensitive, Booth. You have a child out of wedlock.
- Sweetie... - What?
Um...
The letters display a combination of both block and cursive.
A combination of printing and writing?
It would indicate she left school in the second grade.
Most white children then would attain at least an eighth grade education.
- She was African-American? - I believe so, yes.
- Was Lionel an African-American? - No. He was definitely Caucasian.
A white man and a pregnant black girl in 1958 Oklahoma.
- That was bad? - It was illegal.
- In Oklahoma? - Not just Oklahoma, here in DC.
- Then why come here? - They were running away.
Lionel had tickets to Paris. Where else in 1958 could a white man and a black woman
get married and live together?
Visiting hours, folks. Who's first?
As director of this institution, I claim that right.
OK, brief announcement.
You guys might recognise my dad, but I don't really wanna talk about it, so... thanks.
OK? That's all.
# Have yourself a merry little Christmas
# Let your heart be light
# From now on our troubles will be out of sight
# Have yourself a merry little Christmas
# Make the Yuletide gay
# From now on our troubles will be miles away
# Here we are as in olden days
# Happy golden days of yore
# Faithful friends who are dear to us
# Gather near to us once more
# Have yourself a merry little Christmas
# Now
- You like it? - It's very beautiful.
It's not done yet. We can put our presents under there and we can...
- You think it's stupid. - No, Ange.
What were your Christmas plans?
My dad and I get together somewhere quiet, exchange gifts, just the two of us.
Since I was a kid, getting some time alone with my dad was always difficult.
So what is it with you and gifts, anyway?
I know your parents disappeared just before Christmas.
My brother Russ was... 19, and we were still in the house.
That must have been strange.
Russ found our presents in my parents' room, and Christmas Eve, when I was asleep,
he snuck down and made Christmas, trying to do the right thing for me.
Christmas for his little sister.
But when I came down and saw the lights and the presents...
- You thought your parents were back. - I just expected to see them sitting there.
Drinking their coffee, watching Russ and me open presents.
- Oh, my God. - I kind of lost it.
I refused to open the presents until they came back.
It was like I told Russ he wasn't enough family for me.
Before New Year's he went out West to work and...
I was in the foster system.
Excuse me. We have Lionel's missing persons file.
The tree is really, really beautiful, Ange.
Really.
Lionel Little was born May 19, 1934, Tulsa, Oklahoma.
- Aged 24. - Fits the remains.
According to the report lodged by his boss in January 1960,
Lionel Little worked as a lease inspector for Silver Cloud Petroleum out of Tulsa.
- An accountant. - You were right about his coin collection.
When Lionel vanished, so did most of his coin collection. That was attached to the file.
- Did the coins show up? - Yeah. Maryland, Virginia, Pennsylvania.
The sales were traced to Gil Atkins. He made out about $8,000 selling those coins.
Atkins killed Lionel for a coin collection?
$8,000 in 1958 translates to roughly $64,000.
Careful Lionel gets a young black girl pregnant,
he sells his coin collection so he can move them to Paris and they can live together.
He offers the coins to Atkins, who figures it'd be easier to kill him and steal the coins.
Also, the last person to see Lionel was a woman who cleaned his office. Ivy Gillespie.
- What's the significance of that? - Does this look like an ivy leaf to you?
Ivy Gillespie. Race: negro.
- Oh, my God. - You have to find her.
- Ivy. - She may not even be alive.
And if she is, this could be a reminder of a painful time. What would we accomplish?
You have to find the girl and tell her what you know. Don't you see?
- You can give her the answer you never got. - Angela...
I'm sorry, sweetie, but it's true. You have a chance here.
To say what? "Merry Christmas, Ivy. Your fianc� was murdered and your life was ruined,
but at least you get to know what happened to him"?
Don't you wish somebody had said that to you?
Yes.
I realise it's Christmas Eve, but it's extremely important that I find Ms Ivy Gillespie.
We know that she was a cleaning lady at Silver Cloud Petroleum
in 1958 and 1959. After that, we don't know.
I wouldn't interrupt your Christmas except this is very very important to a friend of mine.
I don't wanna take time from your family, but I have important news regarding a loved one.
Do you have an address, or place of work, or... anything?
I've made dozens of calls in an effort to track this woman down. It's that important.
Assisted living? Is her last name still Gillespie?
Yes. Yes. Merry Christmas to you too.
Hello?
Yes. I was wondering if you could tell me if you have any guests there, first name Ivy,
born January 21, 1934. She'd be African-American.
Yes, I apologise. I should have started with "Merry Christmas".
Date of birth is January 21, 1934.
She's African-American. Yes, Ivy. Her name is still Gillespie.
Yes, if her granddaughter's there.
Yes, hello. I'm Dr Temperance Brennan from the Jeffersonian Institution in DC.
I have information that might be very interesting to your grandmother.
I can be reached through the medico-legal lab here at the Jeffersonian.
And tell her "Merry Christmas".
You found Ivy Gillespie.
In an assisted living facility near Bethesda.
I spoke to her granddaughter.
Thank you.
She might not get in touch with us.
She will.
Because it's Christmas?
Yes.
- Did you find something? - Two things that fit together.
- Angela sent me. She says it's Christmas. - OK.
You still think there's more to learn about Lionel Little and Ivy Gillespie?
There's always more to learn. Hey.
I'm sorry you didn't get Christmas morning with your little boy.
Thanks.
Good. OK, everybody.
Stand over here.
Close your eyes.
Open your eyes.
- Merry Christmas. - Angela! Merry Christmas!
# Sleigh bells ring, are you listening?
# In the lane snow is glistening
# A beautiful sight, we're happy tonight
# Walking in a winter wonderland
# Gone away is the bluebird
# Here to stay is a new bird
- Look at all these gifts. - We should be drinking eggnog.
Oh, my God! It's beautiful. What is it?
- It's prettier if you don't know the details. - That is beautiful.
- Thank you. - I wonder what it is.
- What did you get? - Very impressive.
- You made this? - Yeah.
- Thank you. - I'm next.
It's from me.
It's my family. And me.
- Thank you. - You're welcome.
- Scarabaeus sacer. - A sacred scarab.
- That is excellently rendered, sir. Thank you. - You're very welcome.
Wow!
Zack, that's, uh...
- Self-propelled nonautonomic unit. - Well!
It's a robot.
I thought if we get out of here in time today, you could give it to your son.
- Merry Christmas. - Ah, Zack.
- Thanks a lot. - You're welcome.
# We'll frolic and play the Eskimo way
# Walking in a winter wonderland
Bones, here's the thing. What if a gift goes both ways? What's wrong with that?
- Look at this. - It's a penny.
It's not just a penny. It's a 1943 bronze one cent piece.
All I'm saying is maybe the real gift is when you accept something with a little grace.
Over a billion pennies were minted in 1943,
most of them in steel to conserve copper for World War II.
But a handful were struck in an old-style bronze planchet.
Only about 12 of them exist today.
Whoa. Huh.
- And this is one of 'em? - Yes.
Huh.
- How much is it worth? - Over $100,000.
Lionel never showed Gil Atkins the best part of his collection.
Atkins murdered him, never knew there was a fortune in his pocket.
Looks like Careful Lionel got the last laugh.
Ready?
It's time for our test results.
Oh, green, green. Is that green as in "Go", or green as "Stick a needle in your brain"?
- Merry Christmas. - Oh.
Yes!
We are outta here. Merry Christmas, everyone.
Go. Go have Christmas.
Wish your boy a merry Christmas from me.
I'm at Wong Foo's if you decide you want company.
Merry Christmas, Bones.
Excuse me.
Hi.
My name is Lisa Pearce, and this is my grandmother, Ivy Gillespie.
- Are you Dr Brennan? - Yes.
I gave birth to a half-white child in Oklahoma, 1960. Lionel's daughter.
Raised her myself. No education.
I got her to college.
- She died eight years ago. - And Grandma raised me after that.
Her mother was a nurse and Lisa's gonna be a doctor.
Grandma, I can't afford college.
So Lionel was murdered?
In 1959, yes, by a man named Gil Atkins.
And you can figure that out all this time later?
He had these.
Huh?
Tickets to... Paris!
Grandma, isn't that what he promised you? A life in France?
I thought the worst of him.
Thank you, Dr Brennan.
I have something even better.
What could be better?
You've given me back my life.
It's a penny.
There's something you ought to know about that penny.
- Drinks? - Ah, yes.
Christmas spirits come in many a guise.
Cheers.
Ivy Gillespie came to the lab after you left, with her granddaughter.
Mm-hm.
Don't you wanna know what happened?
I know what happened.
You told her about Careful Lionel.
You showed her the letters,
the tickets, and she cried. But you made her happy.
Not to mention I gave her a penny worth over $100,000.
She won't care about that today.
You just gave somebody the best Christmas gift they could ever get.
- Who's the secret Santa now? - Stop.
Whoa.
And that weirdo assistant of yours just made me the coolest dad in the world.
Daddy! Daddy!
- Hey, look. Look at this thing. - Can it flip?
How cool. It can flip, trip, swim, whatever you want.
- Say "Merry Christmas". - Merry Christmas.
OK, big guy.
# Have yourself a merry little Christmas
# Let your heart be light
# From now on our troubles will be out of sight
# Through the years we all will be together
# If the fates allow
# Hang a shining star upon the highest bough
# And have yourself
# A merry little Christmas
# Now
Visiontext Subtitles: Adrian Isaac
What's that mean?
ENGLISH SDH