# You'd better watch out You'd better not cry
# You'd better not pout I'm telling you why
# Santa Claus is coming...
Oh, God! I can't deal with any more kids poking at me.
Huh! I get their dads. Lechers all want me to sit on their laps.
I don't much care for the way Santa's gawking at you either.
Don't do that! You're too pretty to smoke.
- Gonna tell me it'll stunt my growth? - Be nice. It's Christmas.
- What's that smell? - This is the back of a mall.
I have a very sensitive nose.
Don't walk. Let's just sit.
It's coming from over here. There's something.
Probably old hot dogs or a dead cat.
No, no, no. Don't touch. Let me.
Jail's not bad. I get meals with your brother, we go out on work details together.
You haven't asked me why I'm strapped in these chains.
- You're in jail. - No.
I'm in dress rehearsal for A Christmas Carol.
- You're Jacob Marley? - I wanted to be Scrooge.
But some triple homicide in Cell Block H got the part.
You don't wanna know how.
- What are you gonna do for Christmas? - What I always do. I'm going on a trip.
- New York? - Peru.
National Geographic found a new ancient ceremonial site, known as "El Brujo".
1500-year-old skeletons - part of a very mysterious culture called the Moche.
- Unless they're elves, it's not Christmassy. - No, they aren't elves.
You know what I'd like? I'd like to spend another Christmas with... with kids.
With a family, with a tree.
You're in jail, Dad.
So is Russ.
- Mom's dead. - Yeah. Yeah.
Christmas is overrated anyway.
People expect it to be so perfect. It never is.
I'm looking forward to the skeletons in El Brujo.
Christmas and skeletons do not go together.
I remember the Christmas you and Mom gave me the tool box. That was great.
Yeah. Except that the tool box was for Russ.
But you decided that it was yours and he let you have it.
He did? Oh.
I hope someday that we can all have Christmas together again.
- I doubt it, Dad. - Lie to me. I can pretend.
I've gotta go look at a dead person.
You never were good at sugar-coating anything.
You got that sad-little-girl look on your face after you've been with your dad.
No, I don't. He wishes we could spend Christmas together with Russ.
- Do it. - They're both in jail. It's impossible.
- What are your plans? - I'm thinking about driving off the bridge.
- I'm being self-pitying. - But you love Christmas.
I love it when I have Parker.
But this year he's going skiing in Vermont with Rebecca and Captain Fantastic.
- Who's Captain Fantastic? - Her boyfriend.
Commands a coastguard cutter.
- His last name isn't literally Fantastic, is it? - Might as well be.
They have a trailer at the jail - mostly for conjugal visits.
- Captain Fantastic is in jail? - No, your dad. Give him what he wants.
- Pull strings. - I'm not a string-puller.
- You pull strings. - My father is a murderer and a thief.
Murderers and thieves get Christmas, too. In fact, that's the point.
Well, I have other plans.
Whatever they are, skeletons and Christmas do not mix.
That's what my father said. Where are we going?
Early Christmas present for you, Bones. Dead guy in a sewer.
- It's cold enough as it is. - Let's get this done.
Great. Had to be Santa.
You'd think someone who squeezes up chimneys'd find a sewer a snap.
Rats got to him.
The huge bacterial count and warm weather explains why the rats found him so digestible.
He was washed down through the sewer system. Look at all the stuff around him.
Uphill is... that way.
Busiest shopping district during busiest season.
- Maybe he worked up there. - Or he was pushed out of a low-flying sleigh.
- Cynicism at Christmas? What happened? - Nothing.
Rebecca's taking Parker to Vermont for Christmas.
- That sucks majorly. - It does.
So what do you say we just get back to our dead Santa?
It's not Santa, Booth. He's a dead man in a costume.
The beard looks real. And he's pretty fat.
- Which doesn't make him Santa. - Don’t jump to conclusions.
Aw! Three days before Christmas and somebody kills Santa!
We'll send his gloves to the FBI crime lab,
see if they can get any fingerprints.
Damage on the left side of the skull suggests a blow to the temporal bone.
So Santa was definitely murdered. Someone did not like their present.
There is copious insect activity from the sewer.
I'm intrigued that the Santa myth survives into modern times.
Children, Dr Addy. It's for children.
These duds are not department store. It's a hand-tailored suit.
Which I'd like to get off him after you two finish your scraping and...
Not that that isn't all very, very important.
What Santa is supposed to do is impossible.
He keeps a list, checks it twice. What's the big deal?
If you take into account all believers, factor in time zones, rotation of the earth,
he'd have to make 822.6 visits per second to reach every child.
So Santa parks his sleigh, unloads presents, fills stockings,
eats snacks, gets back into his sleigh,
and on to the next house in about 1/1000th of a second?
Children have to be stupid to accept that.
First of all, children are not stupid, they're just children. Second, Santa is magic.
Let's identify the victim, shall we?
There's an ellipsoid aperture in the mandibular left canine
and first premolar consistent with pipe smoking.
Hm?
Plus traces of residue on the canine. Could this be clay?
Santa is often portrayed smoking a clay pipe.
All right, all right. Very funny, boys.
Come on! Where's your holiday spirit?
Based on the degree of bloating and purged fluids,
I'd estimate time of death between 72 and 96 hours ago.
Check the sewer sludge and bugs.
Phorid fly maggots, third instar.
And they appear to have been well-fed as well.
Santa was around some other food source before he died. Milk and cookies?
This is not Miracle on 34th Street.
We're not saying this is Santa Claus. We're merely anatomising the evidence.
OK. It's still rough, but this might help.
Dad wants to spend Christmas with the family.
So how are you gonna arrange it? Bus me and dad out?
There are trailers for conjugal visits. We might be able to use one of those.
And I talked to Amy, and she said she could bring the girls down to see you.
- You shouldn't have done that. - The girls ask about you.
I lied to them, Tempe! The girls don't even know I'm here.
- They think I went overseas to work. - You're deserting them, just like Dad.
It'd be better for them to find out the guy they think is wonderful is a criminal?
When I found out Dad was not dead, I was happy, even though he was...
A murderer.
You are not a murderer, Russ.
It doesn't sound like a good Christmas present.
- You could explain it... - No! Tempe, it's not gonna happen.
Can't you sleep on your own couch?
Just waiting for the squints to find out something.
- How was Russ? - He doesn't want the girls to come.
Your dad, he wants the whole Christmas package -
the tree, the kids, the presents, the whole shebang.
Impossible.
Christmas is about making the impossible happen.
- Like you spending Christmas with Parker? - You know what? That hurt.
Wake me up when the squint squad finds out something.
Victim has odd-shaped remodelling on his sacrum,
with a sclerotic margin around the injury.
Some kind of old injury?
Two small indentations here,
consistent with trauma from impact with some sort of cloven hoof.
Cloven... like a reindeer?
Oh, thank God you're here. This is so wasted on me alone.
Evidence is evidence, whether anyone hears it or not.
Our victim was kicked by a reindeer.
Oh, get the hell outta here!
- The sacrum. - Wait.
The evidence actually adds up to
an old, fat man with a white beard in a custom-made Santa suit
who smoked a clay pipe and got kicked in the ass by a reindeer?!
FBI lab got partial prints off the gloves, and AFIS found a possible match.
Apparently our victim worked for the school board.
- As a teacher? - No. He was a Santa Claus.
- A Santa Claus? - Or the Santa Claus?
- Check out his name. - Kristopher Kringle.
According to AFIS, it's his legal name.
- There's the old Dutch Sinterklaas... - Watch out!
He had a partner named Black Peter who carried a whip to beat naughty children.
Myths are traditionally used to control behaviour -
Moses bringing the Ten Commandments.
You're equating Moses to Santa?
- Santa's usually considered more jolly... - OK, great. We're looking for 223 Hudson.
- I'm sorry you can't be with Parker, Booth. - I gotta face the facts.
She shouldn't take him away - not at Christmas, not the way he feels about you.
- Oh, my God! - What?
- He lives in a toy store! - Oh!
- Watch out for reindeer. - Yeah, really funny.
Wow!
Parker would love this place.
Look at this! Gingerbread. He's got the train.
Look at this.
- Booth. - Yeah?
This might explain the reindeer kick to Kringle's sacrum.
You gotta be kidding me. Look at this. Wow!
This guy was committed.
Or should have been.
Hey, Bones.
Check this out.
Hidden compartment.
Phew!
Looks like Santa was planning on buying a lot of toys.
- Kris rented it from me for six years. - Know where he lived before?
Actually, that wasn't my first question.
He wrote his previous address on the lease.
- "North Pole"! - Ah, come on!
- Turned out to be a good question. - You actually accepted that address?
How many guys wanna live above a toy store? It's noisy.
And Kris gave me first and last month up front, in cash.
Kris Kringle, from the North Pole, lives above a toy store?
This is further evidence that our victim is the mythic figure known as Santa Claus.
"Mythic", from "myth", meaning "doesn't actually exist".
- No. From mythos, meaning "word"... - He does not...
- What about Mr Kringle's finances? - Like I said, he always paid cash.
- Where did he work? - An employment agency called Temp Time.
Hah! He couldn't have been Santa. Santa wouldn't work at a temp agency.
- Why not? His work is seasonal. - Because he would...
- Kringle pay his rent on time? - Always. Until the last couple of months.
Really? Cos he wasn't short on funds, with all the money we found in his drawer.
Son of a bitch! 1200 bucks of that is mine.
All of this is rumpled small bills. Except for these - eight $50 bills.
- Brand-new, with sequential serial numbers. - I don't know about any of this.
Did you guys have a disagreement? Is that why he was holding out on you?
No. No.
No.
Maybe. Kris gave me some ideas on a toy, which I patented, and...
- It sold? - Somebody saw TomKat's kid with it,
so it sort of took off.
Wow. Kringle could've sued you for a chunk of that cash.
He never actually told me he wanted a cut. Maybe he just stopped paying his rent.
- Thinking of Parker? - No.
- Thinking about your dad? - No.
Russ.
You can't blame him for not wanting those girls to know.
He's living a lie. You'd never do that.
Not never. I mean, I lie to Parker. Especially this time of year.
- What about? - I tell him that Santa's coming.
- Really? - It's Santa Claus!
The Santa myth is based on blackmail - "Be good or no presents."
No. It's not a lie lie, Bones.
It's everybody agreeing that up to a certain age
kids deserve to live a different kind of truth.
So we should figure out a lie Russ could tell the girls so they wouldn't know he's in jail?!
That is a brilliant Christmas idea.
It was intended to be a scathing and incisive comment.
Give Russ civvies, the girls think he's flown in specially to visit his father in jail.
- Where would you say he's been? - Building a bridge in... Addis Ababa.
Addis Ababa is the landlocked capital of Ethiopia.
- Fine. Make up your own lie. - I don't believe in lying to children.
You just wanna go to Peru without feeling guilty.
You need to accept that you won't have Parker this Christmas.
I am not enjoying this holiday season at all.
Yeah, well, neither am I.
The shadow on the x-ray is a slight depression of the outer endocranial table.
The fracture's levered inward. There are no signs of remodelling.
This localised staining suggests that his superficial temporal artery was punctured.
- Very likely the cause of death. - Santa was conked on the head. With what?
I'll run it under the scanning electron microscope.
- So, what are you doing for Christmas? - Going home to Michigan.
- What about you? - Family cruise.
- Sounds nice. - You'd think so.
Let me know what you find.
- Kris is dead?! - Afraid so.
Man! I had a bad feeling something was wrong.
It's not like Kris to miss work. Especially not this time of year.
- I called him a hundred times. - 12 times. We listened to his machine.
- There are a lot of Santas here. - Yeah, but Kris was my numero uno.
All the guys knew that here.
If it wasn't for him, I never would've got into the Santa business.
Christmas won't be the same without Kris.
Anthropologically, what would it mean to be numero uno Santa Claus?
Well, Kris got the best gigs.
- Any of the other Santas get jealous? - Jealous enough to kill? Come on!
Is this about Kris? Did something happen to him?
- Who are you? - I'm... Jeff Mantell.
- What happened to Kris? - Kris was murdered.
Everybody. The dead Santa on the news? It was Kris.
What can you tell me about Kris?
- He made a guy proud to wear the uniform. - Sure did.
- That's the truth. - Was... was Kris murdered?
Um, all the Santas just need to take a step back.
Any help you need, guys.
- Why are you limping? - My shins. Wanna see them?
Why would I wanna see them?
Children get to a certain age and they think it's hilarious to kick Santa in the shins.
- Anyone who knew Kris personally? - I only met Kris a couple of weeks ago.
Whoever smells like a wet sweater needs to take a step back.
I was out of work, late on my alimony, and the man saved me.
- He got me this job. - Sad but familiar tale with Kris.
- Typical Kris. Always helping out. - A saint.
- Any trouble? - Arguments?
- Differences of opinion? - Can't imagine that.
The man was truly, sincerely jolly.
- We can't find a record of his bank account. - I cashed Kris's cheques.
What would Mr Kringle do during the three other seasons?
Kris was my only full-time temp Santa -
for the odd ad campaigns who needed a Santa.
Car dealerships, ice-cream parlours.
Sometimes hospitals had Christmas in July.
Ironically, the only night Kris wouldn't work was Christmas Eve.
- His special night. - His night to deliver toys around the world.
We'd always tease him about that.
- He never denied it. - Ho-ho-ho-ho-ho!
The maggots in dead Santa's collar fed on
non-sulphated chondroitin glycosaminoglycans
- and N-acetylneuraminic acid. - This is why Booth hates talking to you.
It's the regurgitated saliva of male Aerodramus fuciphagus.
- Booth hates talking to me? - Not you specifically. Lab people.
- What's Aerodramus fuciphagus? - Main ingredient in bird's-nest soup.
It's a Chinese delicacy made from the nests of swiftlets.
It's more like bird's-spit soup if you ask me.
So our victim was in China?
I'm thinking Chinatown is more likely.
But I also found similar traces of the same stuff on the back of Santa's pants.
- Mostly on the rear end. - He sat in it?
Let's hope that's how it got there.
- How common is this dish? - One kilo of swiftlet nest costs two grand.
- Let's see who makes it here in DC. - Done and done.
They all seemed pretty upset to have lost one of their own.
I mean, they keep referring to the uniform, like soldiers or cops.
Hodgins says Kringle was probably killed
in or near a restaurant called Kum Jung Huen up in Chinatown.
- How'd he figure that out? - Wanna know?
- You tell me. - No, you don't.
- I'll trust you on that. - I'm meeting Caroline Julian at your office.
- About the trailer for your dad? - Think she'll help?
She's a lawyer. She'll help, but she'll ask you to do something in return.
- That's fair. - Yeah. Hold that thought.
- I thought you were going to Brazil. - Peru.
Whatever. South of the equator, doing bone things with bone people.
I checked with the people at the jail. For my father to get the conjugal trailer,
the prosecutor in charge of his case has to submit a recommendation.
Uh-huh.
- You're the prosecutor in charge of his case. - I'm aware of that, thank you, Doctor.
Ugh.
- So will you? - You going to Brazil and all,
what's the use of Max being in a conjugal trailer by himself?
I'm trying to persuade my brother to celebrate Christmas with his family, too.
A yuletide gathering of the Brennan criminal element. "Trying"?
Russ doesn't want his daughters to know he's in jail.
How do you persuade them otherwise if they're having Christmas in the jail?
One other thing. The warden says no Christmas tree.
That's right. Three years ago somebody made a shiv out of the star.
Now no trees or ornaments of any kind.
- Isn't that a little dreary? - Don't kill people, don't get sent to prison,
have a Christmas pageant in your own home every year.
So... will you?
Ugh. I will.
You will? Thank you!
- On one condition. - Booth said you'd say that.
Did he say I'd ask you to kiss him?
No.
- Well, are you? - No cheeks, no noses, right on the lips.
What? People kiss people on the nose?
I want you to kiss him under some mistletoe.
- Kiss Booth? - That's right, chérie.
- Why? - Because it will amuse me.
Why?
Because you're all "Dr Brennan" and "Special Agent Seeley Booth",
and it's Christmas and I have a puckish side that will not be denied.
- Puckish? - You don't think I can be puckish?
I never thought about it until now.
You want me to write that letter, you kiss Booth on the lips
for no less than one steamboat, two steamboats... Five steamboats.
- That's blackmail. - That's correct.
- That's unethical. - That's the deal. Take it or leave it.
- What about a tree? - No Christmas tree. No way!
Not even if you squeeze his buttocks.
Well... I don't know.
Couldn't I just take you out to dinner sometime?
You kiss Seeley Booth on the lips, I'll make sure your daddy has his dream Christmas.
No tree, mind you. But otherwise, as good as an accused murderer can expect.
Ugh.
You ever see this man before?
- Santa Claus? - No! This isn't actually Santa Claus.
The guy that's wearing the Santa outfit in this picture - have you ever seen him?
Can I see your ID again, please?
Booth. Your kid like roaches?
Gromphadorhina, man - hissing roach.
Hey, grab me this container.
This is a great pet. Perfect Christmas gift.
- Uh, no. Find the bird's-nest maggots? - Not yet. I'm still looking.
- OK, I'm calling the cops. - Whoa, pal.
I am the cops. All right?
Any fights out here or back in the alley in the past four days?
No. I don't come out here since I quit smoking. It stinks.
The cycle of life. It's quite beautiful.
Is it? OK, you can go back inside.
But tell the rest of your staff I'll be in in a few minutes to ask questions.
Hey, pal, you better hope I don't report this to the health department.
Pay dirt!
Fannia, Musca and Phoridae.
These are the exact maggots I found on Kringle's suit.
- It means this is where he was killed. - So, if he was killed here...
then he was probably...
dragged over here to this grate and dumped down this sewer.
An ignominious end for Father Christmas.
- Whoa! - "Whoa" what?
Phew!
They were near the bottom.
- No cash. Just IDs and credit. - Probably dumped there by pickpockets.
- You found cash in Kringle's apartment. - Right.
- Maybe he picked one pocket too many. - We'll find out the owners of these wallets
and see if they know any Santa pickpockets.
Booth, can you help me out of here?
- See you later. - Booth!
Booth! Oh, come on...
Vermont is gonna be great - snowboarding, just like when we went to Liberty.
- Mom says better than Liberty. - Well, she's right.
Can't you come?
- Parker... - If you tell Mom I don't wanna go,
then we could spend Christmas together, like we always do.
It's not gonna happen this year, buddy.
When you get back, me and you will have our own Christmas, just the two of us.
- Without Captain Fantastic. - We shouldn't call Brent "Captain Fantastic".
- Why? You do. - Well, I won't any more.
- But it's funny. - It's disrespectful.
And if your mom likes someone, then we should respect that and like them, too.
Is that true?
- You like Brent?! - Yeah, I do.
- Wow. - Bones!
- Are you gonna be all alone at Christmas? - Me? No, I'm not gonna be alone.
- I'll be with Bones, friends. - I'm going to Peru.
- We're all going to Peru. - Christmas in Africa?
- Actually, Peru is... - Is Africa. Right, Bones?
OK? I'm gonna be just fine.
Go wash up before your mom gets here to pick you up. All right?
- I love you. - I love you too, buddy.
Go ahead.
You lied a lot to him.
It's the magic of Christmas, Bones.
So, you wanna tell me what happened?
I'd just come out of the cheque-cashing place.
- When you were mugged by Santa? - Not mugged.
It was just a bump as I was walking out.
I said, "Excuse me." We went our separate ways.
- When'd you know your wallet was missing? - An hour later at the PriceCo.
I'm going to pay, and it's gone.
So you went back the next day and beat the crap out of him.
I asked for my wallet back. Santa plays all dumb. Then it got physical.
It was 900 bucks!
Mr Moussa, there are hundreds of Santas in the DC area this time of year.
Come on. You and I are trained law-enforcement officers. I got the right guy.
If it was him, he deserved a beating.
It was him. And he got off lucky because of my self-control.
This guy, he ruined Christmas!
Egyptians, they celebrate Christmas?
I am not Muslim, Agent Booth. I am Coptic.
Me, my wife, my children, we all celebrate Christmas.
Except not this year, because this guy took my money.
And what'd you do to him?
I hit him.
I'm not proud of that.
- No pushing? No tussling? - Just popped him once on the schnoz.
- You didn't roll around in the alley? - What alley? We were in front of a store.
- So you just shoved him down a manhole? - I knocked him down.
The people don't know why. They're looking.
Maybe they think I'm a terrorist. So I get out of there.
Hm.
Right.
Do I need a lawyer?
PayFast Cheque Cashing confirms cashing Moussa's paycheque.
Teller gave him 900 bucks - all new fifties.
- And Kringle had new fifties in his dresser. - Serial numbers match.
- Suggesting Kringle is our pickpocket. - So we're gonna analyse Moussa's clothing.
If there's any bird-soup goop on him, we'll know he's our killer.
What is with the mistletoe?!
- Caroline wants us to kiss under it. - What?!
- It's the only way she'll make Christmas. - By having us kiss?!
Yes.
- Why? - Because she's feeling puckish.
- What's that mean? - She'll be here any second. Want some gum?
No. My breath is just fine. I'll have a talk with Caroline.
- No! - No?
- I'm only telling you out of courtesy. - What?
- So that you won't be surprised. - You mean kiss-kiss, on both cheeks?
No, the lips. Like brother and sister, colleagues, French people meeting.
- Caroline feels puckish? - Playful and impish.
Congratulations. I hear you have a suspect in the Santa slaying.
Yeah. Looks like the Easter Bunny has nothing to worry about.
- Did you talk to the judge about the trailer? - Yes, I did.
What about... your end?
Well! Look at that! Mistletoe.
You take a step to your right, you'll be right under the cute little sprig.
Uh...
I...
Was that enough steamboats?
Plenty. A whole flotilla.
I don't know what that means, but, um... merry Christmas.
- It was like kissing my brother. - You sure must like your brother.
- She does. - I do.
The trailer is all arranged. You're good to go, chérie.
Merry Christmas.
- I'm sure she feels really foolish right now. - Yeah.
Well, I, uh... I really should... I should get back
and see if, uh, the forensic guy has got anything yet on Moussa's...
It's a good idea. Yeah, I've got... stuff to do, too. Yeah.
- Yeah. - For... With bones.
I... I understand completely.
Thanks for the gum.
- How are you doing? - Hi.
Some metallic flakes embedded in the bone.
I'm trying to help Zack determine what kind of weapon was used.
You know, this is our first Christmas as a couple.
Ah! Too bad Santa's dead.
I thought that we could make Christmas decorations for our tree.
Is that too corny? It's what my family did.
Oh.
And I always thought, you know, when I had my own family, that I'd carry on the tradition.
- Are two people a family? - Isn't that how every family starts?
Then I think us making decorations is just corny enough.
- Has there been some kind of crisis? - Yes. I have a crisis.
Bones, it was just mistletoe.
- Not the kiss. That was nothing. - You kissed?
- Mistletoe. - That's not the crisis.
- Was there tongue? - Get your own sex life.
- It has nothing to do with sex. - Nothing.
- There was no s... It was mistletoe. - Totally sexless.
I'm all ears.
Just take your hat off there.
Booth, who is a very honest person,
says that at this time of year deception is necessary
- for the happiness of children. - I'm being misquoted.
- Booth is right. - She got the gist.
- There's a fictional element to Christmas. - The whole birth-of-a-Saviour rigmarole?
- It is not rigmarole. - How do you know?
Dr Brennan, it's... it's the feeling of Christmas. What people call the Christmas spirit.
It's a kind of dream or hope that we carry with us from childhood. But as adults...
Are you including you in that?
As adults, we're imbued by the pragmatic routines of life,
which makes it difficult to regard things with childlike wonder.
But it's all right for us to try.
We put on silly hats, drape trees with lights, wrap gifts in garish paper. That's good for us.
It's not only all right to allow children the transient experience of innocence and joy.
It's our responsibility.
OK.
- "OK"? - I found that very helpful.
What do you think I've been saying for the past four days?
You're gonna help me lie to the girls?
Apparently it's not morally wrong to lie at Christmas.
- What if they know I'm lying? - Apparently sometimes lying is a kind of gift.
The idea is, even if they know you're lying, they know you're doing it out of love.
Where are you getting this? Cos I'm in jail and I'm getting better advice.
Look, Russ, we have a plan.
I bring you some civilian clothes, the girls think you popped in from Addis Ababa...
- Addis Ababa? - What did you and Amy tell them?
- We said I went to Burma. - Burma?!
- Who cares where we chose? - Russ, Burma doesn't even exist any more.
- What happened to it? - It became Myanmar.
There's another problem with the trailer. No Christmas tree.
- Why? - Shank material. Is it important?
Christmas with no tree?! It's a disaster. Forget it.
They're young, Russ.
They believe in Santa Claus. They believe in you because you love them.
And they'll sit on your lap, open their presents,
and they'll believe in you and Burma,
and maybe they won't notice there's no tree.
Amy will be there, Dad will be there, the girls will be there.
- And you? - I was going to.
But we're not the only people getting the trailer,
and I thought it would be in the afternoon, but now it's Christmas Eve and...
I gotta be on that plane.
- To Peru? - Yeah.
Tempe, Dad wants us all.
I mean, you're one of us.
- Found what killed Kringle? - We know what it was made of.
And we know the shape.
- Something crescent-shaped and brass. - I couldn't find anything this shape.
- But by making a slight paradigm shift... - That was my idea.
...and slightly changing the angle... - A circle, not a crescent.
I believe the mark on Kringle's skull
was the result of being struck with a circular object approximately 15cm in diameter.
- Six inches. - A bell. A brass bell.
Meaning he was probably attacked by another Santa.
Everybody have your bells?
All right, all right! Enough! Stop!
- You can tell the elves they can go now. - Elves, go for coffee.
- What's the use of bells without Santa? - They're all the same.
I buy 'em in bulk. I sell 'em to the Santas for cost.
- Was that Kris's idea? - How did you know?
Just getting a feel for the guy. Listen, we have a warrant here to inspect your bells.
- Inspect our what? - Bells, Larry.
Why?
We're gonna swab each of your bells with a cotton ball soaked in phenolphthalein.
- Is it gonna sting? - Bells! She said "bells".
- You need a hearing aid. - Why are you antisepticising our bells?
Ho-ho-ho, ho-ho-ho! Steady there, Santa.
Why do you need a warrant to disinfect a bell?
- What's the matter, Santa? - They're looking for something!
Look, I read the warrant. It's the law.
- Give 'em the bell so we can go. - Give us your bell.
- No. - I'm not gonna see my son for Christmas,
so I'm a little annoyed with Christmas.
So give the lady the bell.
- Give her the bell. - Go ahead.
Thank you.
The brass plating on this bell is chipped.
Ho-ho, look at that!
- You're under arrest for murder. - What?!
This bell is the weapon that killed Kris.
No! No, no, no! I didn't kill Kris!
- Come on, guys! We switch bells all the time! - That's true.
All of our bells are identical, you know? We put one down, then we just pick up another.
Just hold on to your bells there for a second. Any ideas?
- No. - Think, Bones. Paint the picture.
It's gotta be one of these guys. Half of these guys owe Kringle the money.
- One of them's a pickpocket. - Gets money from the Egyptian.
- Could we go? - Cool it. Have a cookie and some eggnog.
Kringle gets suspicious. He catches the pickpocket dumping the wallet,
confronts him.
- We have to sniff their behinds. - We have to sniff...
- You lost me there. - All right, everybody up against the wall!
Or... OK, put your hands on the table.
First of all, that's my job. And second... why?
They fought. They rolled around through the bird's-nest soup goop.
Right! That's good, except for the sniffing-their-butts thing.
- You start over there. I'll start here. - You're gonna sniff my guys?!
Aw!
Jeez! All right, this is officially the worst Christmas ever.
- Don't you need a warrant for this? - Just be quiet.
- Turn around. - Yeah.
- Bird's-nest soup! - It's Jeff! He killed Kris!
- Get him! - Whoa! Whoa!
- Are you gonna pull them off? - Fine. Watch this.
Hey! How do you like it now, Santas?
Get off of him. Everybody off!
- On your feet. You're under arrest. - The man is a disgrace to his uniform.
# You better watch out
# You better not cry
# You better not pout
# I'm telling you why
# Santa Claus is coming to town...
# Big fat Santa's on his way
# Big fat Santa's on his way tonight
# You better watch out
# You better not cry
# You better not pout
# I'm telling you why
# Santa Claus is coming to town
# Big fat Santa's on his way
# He's making a list
# He's checking it twice
# He's gonna find out who's naughty and nice
# Santa Claus is coming to town
# Big fat Santa's on his way
- # He sees you when you're sleeping - # He's coming, he's coming
- # He knows when you're awake - # He's coming, he's coming
- # He knows when you've been bad or good - # He's coming, he's coming
# So be good for goodness' sake
# You better watch out
# You better not cry
# You better not pout
# I'm telling you why
# Santa Claus is coming to town
# Big fat Santa's on his way
# Big fat Santa's on his way tonight
# You better watch out
# You better not cry
# You better not pout
# I'm telling you why...
He's fine, Rebecca.
No... Just listen.
I will get him back to you in time tomorrow before you leave for Vermont.
- I hate Vermont. - No, I didn't tell him to say that.
He didn't have to find the FBI.
He went up to a cop on the street, told him he was lost, and said his dad works at the FBI.
- # He sees you when you're sleeping - # He's coming, he's coming
- # He knows when you're awake - # He's coming, he's coming
- # He knows when you've been bad or good - # He's coming, he's coming
# So be good for goodness' sake
# You better watch out
# You better not cry
# You better not pout
# I'm telling you why
# Santa Claus is coming to town
# Big fat Santa's...
Come on, in you go. That's it.
OK, here's the deal. We get to spend Christmas Day together.
But then I gotta take you to Vermont. Understand?
- OK. Will you miss Africa? - Africa?!
No. I'd rather spend time with you.
- Do we got a tree? - We got two trees.
- Two trees? - Two!
- Why? - Come on, I'll show you. Come on.
Here. I want you to try this, honey.
- Are they having fun? - Of course they are.
And by the way, this is the best Christmas that I have had in 16 years.
Me, too.
Ugh! Oh, my God!
- What's wrong? - What is this?
It's just a little good cheer I made under the mattress.
- Booth? - Bones, hey. Good news.
- Turns out I got Parker for Christmas after all. - Christmas magic, right?
Hey, so we figured we'd call and wish you a little yuletide cheer.
- Merry Christmas, Bones! - Thanks, Parker.
- Wish him merry Christmas from me. - My dad says, "Merry Christmas."
Listen, I got a little something for you.
Oh, I got you something, too. We can exchange gifts in a couple of days.
- Go to the window and open the blinds. - What?
Hey! Everybody, it looks like we got our tree after all.
What?! A tree?!
- Oh, my gosh! It's so exciting! - Yes! Isn't it pretty?
Merry Christmas.
I love my gift, Booth.
Merry Christmas, Bones.
It's the best Christmas ever!
What's that mean?
English SDH