♪ Look up there ♪
- ♪ What do you see? ♪ - ♪ Nature and stuff ♪
- ♪ Like a rock ♪ - ♪ And a tree ♪
♪ Hup, the Great North ♪
♪ Way up here, you can breathe the air ♪ ♪ Hup, hey, oh ♪
- ♪ Catch some fish ♪ - ♪ Or gaze at a bear ♪
♪ Wow ♪
♪ Hup, the Great North ♪
♪ Here we live ♪ ♪ Hup, oh ♪
- ♪ Here we'll stay ♪ - ♪ Whoo ♪
♪ From longest night to longest day ♪
♪ In the Great North ♪
Get him, everybody! Get him!
Moon, get back here! Don't think I won't bite a child!
Aunt Dirt, shoot anyone who follows me.
Consider it done.
Damn it. I'm out of bullets.
Snerts!
Dang it. - Yes! I won.
In your face and your face and your face.
It's very strange to get yelled at by my teacher like this in my own home.
I am not here as your teacher.
I am here as your father's friend.
They've arrived.
Forty-eight delicious Coddingham Creme Potatoes.
- Huzzah! - Give me now.
What the hell is a Coddingham Creme Potato?
Oh, Jerry. It is the Cadillac of potato-shaped holiday novelty chocolates.
Minty, chocolaty, and with little bits of fried potato inside.
Intriguing.
We were gifted a box of them on Saint Patrick's Day years ago
when Kathleen was having an online affair
with an Irish gentleman on AOL Instant Messenger.
LuckyCharm69. Great guy.
And even though Kathleen's virtual romance ended,
we all fell, and remained, deeply in love with these treats.
But they are only available in Ireland, so I spend all year combing eBay for them.
And you only got one box for all of us?
Please have your resignation letter and your father badge on my desk
in the morning, Beef.
To avoid riot, I shall hide these until we can properly divide them up.
Why weren't you at school this week, Mr. Golovkin?
I mean, don't get me wrong. I "Goloved" it.
How dare you!
I know why he was out. A bunch of the teachers had lice.
That's nasty.
Don't worry. I've been to Nits & Giggles, and I have a clean bill of hair health.
You realize you are literally scratching your head right now.
Damn it.
Hello.
Yes, sweetheart, I-- Oh, no, we haven't been listening.
Yep, yep, okay. See you soon.
Beef, turn on the weather band.
The storm has been upgraded to a Category 5.
Residents are urged to shelter in place and--
Uh-oh, a storm. Like a "snowed in" storm?
Mr. Golovkin, can you drop me off?
I can't get stuck here for this crap again.
When these guys get snowed in, they go full wonkers in the conkers.
Us? No.
But someone should maybe hide all the sharps. [laughs] No reason.
Come on, Mr. G. Let's roll.
Oh! Oh, no.
Ow!
Moon, the lights have only been off for two seconds. Stop biting my legs.
Fine. - Ow!
Moon, not my beautiful butt!
Captain on deck!
Uh-oh, what's this going to be?
Dad, may I be the first to say, sick fit.
Thank you, Son.
As Jerry noted earlier,
during ice storms, blizzards and blackouts of all kinds,
we Tobins have indeed been known to get a little...
Big silly style in our head tanks.
Beautifully said, Son.
But it wasn't until the last one, when we had guests,
that I realized how shameful our behavior is.
So, as the captain of this family, I have come up with a foolproof plan.
Okay. A plan could be good.
During this storm, we will be dressing and acting according to the rules
of the most efficiently regulated maritime organization in the world.
The Royal British Navy.
That's your idea?
Well, you know the saying, "Any idea my dad has is perfect."
There will be no chaos, no Moon Courts--
What's Moon Court?
Oh, it's a court ruled over by a child, but all the adults take it seriously.
Sustained.
There will also be no eating of people, no eating of sweets--
What?
- I mutiny. - Me too. That sucks, Dad.
No mutinies allowed.
Three healthy meals a day will be provided.
Uh, Dad, you have been known to actually get
the most Loggins in the Noggins of any of us.
Yeah. Like when you became convinced you had, quote, unquote,
"The same illness Tim Allen had in The Santa Clause."
Or when you made us stay awake for 36 hours to avoid what you called,
quote, unquote, "storm snakes," who, quote, unquote, "feed on sleep."
Yes, during storms past, I let myself go crazy,
but I assure you this plan will help me keep my mind right.
The Tobin household is now a Royal British Navy vessel,
call sign: HMS Perfect Family.
I am her captain. Moon is her first mate.
Don't try to butter me up.
Judy, you're first "leuff-tenant," as the Brits say.
Ham, second "leuff-tenant".
Honeybee and Wolf, co-third "leuff-tenants."
- Yes! I'm my dad's third. - Babe, uh-uh.
And to make up for last time,
Jerry shall take on a comfortable role as my best friend and personal confidant.
Fine.
Golovkin, since you have lice, you will be a barrel boy.
- And what is a barrel boy? - A diseased boy in a barrel.
But since we have no barrel, you can ride this out in the brig.
We should burn his clothes too.
Fine by me. My whole outfit cost $3.
Perfect. Jerry, I offer you this book and pen for recordkeeping.
And I also offer you my reassurance that we will all act very normally
for the duration of the storm.
I do not believe you and, in fact, think you have already gone crazy.
Well, I can't wait to prove you wrong.
Welcome aboard the HMS Perfect Family, troops.
The voyage begins upon my bell.
Oh, "sail" yeah!
Ah, what a fine, brisk day at sea, is it not, Jerry?
Everything very calm, very normal.
Yep, just one of those normal days
dressing your children in jaunty little sailor outfits
and pretending the house is a ship.
Dad, I don't want to get ahead of myself,
but so far this has been better than slowly descending into madness.
See, I told you all that a little order would go a long way.
Honestly, I was worried about you, Dad, but you know I love chores.
And usually by now I'd have chugged two full bottles of maple syrup,
and me and Judy would be fistfighting about who is the best Bachelor.
- It was Brad Womack! - It's Lorenzo Borghese.
This is why you're single.
Borghese? More like "Barf-ghese."
Speaking of barfing,
I wouldn't mind getting my hands on all 48 of those Coddingham Creme Potatoes.
Captain Father, shall we set a course to the Potato Creme Bay?
We don't need sugar, First Mate Moon. We need structure.
Jerry, take an entry into the captain's log.
Day one aboard the HMS Perfect Family.
We set sail mere hours ago and morale is high.
No signs of slappy fights, scurvy, purple nurples, cannibalism or Moon Court.
Even our louse-ridden barrel boy is well-cared-for.
I dare say my plan is perfection.
Day two commences.
The sailors happily enjoy a hearty breakfast of plain oatmeal
and a refreshing glass of room-temperature water.
Filling one and all with both vim and vigor.
Meals are followed by exercise.
The lunchtime rations of boiled chicken were generous,
as were the spirits of the crew.
I know this routine is supposed to keep our brains from turning to goo,
but I'm starting to feel like one of those animals that runs on a wheel.
- You know? Like a, uh-- - Hamster?
- Yes, Judster? - No, I-- Never mind.
Excuse me for a moment, sailors.
I must prepare the afternoon's entertainment.
I agree with Ham.
All this boiled food and cleaning is not making me less restless.
Don't worry, my cooped-up Catherine.
Dad has absolutely everything under control.
I don't think so.
How dare you not think so!
Guys, it is very obvious that your dad is slowly going mad.
Like Dad, Dad? No.
He's specifically not getting wobbled in his bauble.
Haven't you ever seen Mutiny on the Bounty or-- or Cast Away?
Your dad is seconds away from frenching a volleyball.
- Maritime lecture, ahoy! - Uh-oh.
Welcome sailors, to the Captain's Lecture Series.
To properly swab, first thing you'll need is a bucket of hot, soapy water.
You wanna dump your mop into the bucket.
Soak up the hot, soapy water with a mop
in a back-and-forth, swabbing-like fashion.
...your azimuth compass, and set your mop's course due north,
- northeast, northwest. - This is pure teak,
so you're gonna be sanding with a holystone...
He's been lecturing us on swabbing for hours.
He just keeps repeating himself. What is going on?
Something to say, Lieutenant?
Oh, uh, just, you know,
there's a lot of swabbing information happening here, and I think we got it.
Well, then, let's put our wet rags where our mouths are.
In fact, tonight's meal will be delayed so that we can swab the walls,
the countertops, the individual coins in the swear jar,
- and the rafters. - Oh, boy.
Guys, I think Golovkin was right.
Maybe your dad is starting to go a little, uh, you know...
Master and Bananas?
I'm sure he has a very good reason
for keeping a stuffed parrot on his shoulder
and speaking with it and sometimes kissing it.
What's that, Darius?
Good one, my fine bird.
Look, if Dad's getting a little loose in the brain caboose,
maybe that's to our advantage.
Father, on behalf of the crew,
I am humbly requesting we each be allowed one small treat
with our evening meal.
Perhaps one of the Coddingham Creme Potatoes.
Ship's historian, best friend and personal confidant.
Yes. Shall I get the potatoes?
No. Take a log/letter.
Dear, First Mate Moon,
request denied.
You bastard.
Come on, Dad.
We've been trapped inside for 51 hours.
Yeah. And all we're asking for is one tiny itty-bitty treat
to get us through till the power comes back on.
And also to get our phones back
and not to do any more work and no more lectures.
Absolutely not.
This is my voyage, and we will stay this course.
Told ya! Silence, Barrel Boy.
I'm noticing that the trim around the baseboards of the ship is dirty.
Let us clean it all before bedtime.
Jerry, please go and get a pack of toothbrushes from the basement.
What? What?
Pirates of the Crap-ibbean, Curse of the What the Hell?
Dad, it's 4:00 in the morning.
It's time to scrub the galley.
Jerry, take a log.
Day three begins before dawn
with all and sundry cheered by my buoyant leadership.
The troops have pleased me today,
and so Darius, my shoulder companion,
encouraged me to reconsider my dessert edict.
Yes.
Dark chocolate?
That's disgusting. It's basically a vegetable.
Now, if you could all excuse me,
I have a private captain's matter to attend to.
Also please note that today when I was on the phone with Mrs. Claus,
she told me the snow snakes are back, and they don't like smiles.
So, just something to keep in mind.
Okay, enough!
That man is full melon in the cerebellum.
This ends now.
Moon. What you doing, bud? You can't kill Dad. We've been over this.
No. Oh, God. No.
Dad!
You sick son of a boat captain.
You ate 48 candy potatoes?
No, this isn't what it looks like.
- I found them like this. - Save it, Dad.
I'm afraid you've been caught brown-handed.
While your crew goes hungry,
you're gorging yourself on Coddingham Creme Potatoes,
only available on another continent or the potato dark web?
I didn't eat them. I swear.
I only came down here to grab more swab supplies.
I thought after your dessert, we could swab each other and the snakes.
And Mrs. Claus could use a swabbing, if I'm honest.
Captain, we are relieving you of your duties effective immediately.
What? You can't mean--
Oh, we can mean!
You say potato, we say "mutiny-ta-ta-to."
And you know what? I believe that I would actually like to press charges.
Me too! And I!
You may have kept us from going mad, but not from getting mad.
You said no Moon Court, but you didn't say no Moon Court-martial.
You better lawyer up, pal.
Darius, don't say another word.
Order! Order!
This special court-martial tribunal is now called to order.
I recognize the plaintiffs-- Ham, Judy and Wolf Tobin--
who are the victims of the defendant, Captain Beef Tenderloin Tobin,
who is guilty.
You can't say I'm guilty before the trial starts.
Overruled. Who will represent the plaintiffs in this case?
- I will, Your Honor. - Sustained.
And who will represent this disgusting potato hog,
who is the worst and very guilty?
Case dismissed.
No one? All right.
I shall proceed with the sentencing to death.
Come on, somebody. Jerry, please.
All right.
Court Stenographer Diseased Barrel Boy, please read the charges.
"Captain Beef Tobin stands here accused
of being a nasty little potato hog, oink oink."
- Sustained. - Judge Moon.
If it pleases the court, I have something to say.
I'll allow it, Barrel Boy.
I feel the need to point out
that it is usually the mutineers who are court-martialed
and not the captain.
Hmm. Is that so?
Well, if you're such a huge fan of the captain,
why don't you join him as a defendant?
Wait. What?
You are hereby charged with being pretentious,
- and a teacher at my school. - Sustained!
Please sit right next to my father. Same chair.
But he has lice.
Oh, is that so?
Well, a trial on that matter will be set on the "dumbteenth" of stupid.
But who will be the stenographer?
I'll do it.
A stowaway.
Aunt Dirt, where the hell did you come from?
Oh, I came over to the main house right after the blizzard started.
But when I peeked my head into the kitchen
and saw everyone was doing chores dressed as Scientologists,
I decided just to hide in the panic room.
I had my gun, my flask, my backup flask, so I was all set.
But the flasks ran out, and this seems kind of fun.
- So now I'm in. - Sustained.
Aunt Dirt is recognized as the court stenographer
and also the jury.
Motion to also be a publicly intoxicated loudmouth?
So granted.
Yeehaw, Your Highness.
If there are no further motions at this time,
the trial of Beef Tenderloin Tobin for being a horrible captain
and nasty spud piggy is called to order.
Counselor Honeybee, your opening statement, please.
Your Honor, gentlelady of the jury...
- Present. - ...let me begin by asking you a question.
What do we mean when we say "potato pig"?
Webster's defines "filthy potato pig" as follows.
A man with a red beard and no soul
who used an ice storm to starve and torture
his own children, their gorgeous wives...
Guilty as described.
...the gorgeous wife's extremely nice brother, Jerry,
who would never hurt anyone in this world,
- and him. - Hey.
And while I sometimes say, "I rest my case," just for fun,
in this case, I do rest my case,
because every single person in this room except Aunt Dirt
saw this little potato piggy, Beef Tobin, down on all fours
just pigging those potatoes, slurping that potato slop
in his little piggy style--
- Objection. - On what grounds?
I didn't do it.
You should've thought of that before you did it.
So, in conclusion, this little piggy went to the basement,
this little piggy ate chocolates,
and those Coddingham Creme Potatoes went "wee, wee, wee"
all the way to his stomach.
In your face, and I do rest my case.
Your Honor, may I approach the bench to kiss my wife?
Overruled. Jerry, your opening and closing statements, please.
I call to the "opening and closing statement" stand
Captain Beef Tobin.
Objection. He can't call a witness during his opening statement.
That's hearsay, Your Honor.
Huh. I'll allow it.
Dad, please take the witness stand.
Now. Beef, you are, in fact just a man. Is that right?
- Guilty. - Objection.
I'll render the verdicts around here.
Sustained.
And like any other man, you like chocolates,
particularly novelty chocolates. Is that right?
I've been known to dabble with the devil in the brown dress. Yes.
And so you, as you admitted, just a man,
had been at sea for three days,
burdened with overwhelming responsibilities
and an ungrateful crew.
- Is that right? - Indeed.
I was simply trying to keep us all sane,
even though Santa bit me,
and I'm slowly becoming him, like Timothy Allen.
Darius was so worried.
Of course he was.
He's going for the insanity defense. Ah. Brilliant.
And under that kind of pressure,
you went down to the basement to get the swabbing supplies.
But then there it was, an unopened box
of four dozen Coddingham Creme Potatoes.
So you thought, "What could be the harm? I'll just have one."
But they were so good--
just the right balance of chocolate and minty creme filling
to soothe a warped mind--
that you just kept going back.
You didn't wanna do it. No, you did not.
But you were insane from the storm
and from trying to take care of all these insubordinate scallywags.
Scallywags, please murmur angrily.
These sailors you trusted,
that you loved like they were your own children,
well, they hurt you, didn't they, Captain Tobin?
- Didn't they? - Yes.
It makes me sick.
They swabbed the deck, but they couldn't swab their own hearts.
In closing, you must find Beef Tobin not guilty by reason of insanity.
Who could blame this sad shell of a man
for seeking out a little bit of chocolate-covered joy
in this crazy, snowed-in world?
I know I can't. I won't!
It's like the Leprechaun's Limerick inscribed upon the Creme Potato says,
"Potatoes are the root vegetable of all happiness."
And I do rest my case.
I'm so sorry, Potato Papa.
We're gonna get you the help you need.
Damn it. Jerry's good.
We will now move on to sentencing.
Moon, wait. I have new evidence. I know who ate the potatoes.
It was you, Jerry.
No, d-don't listen to this man!
Three days ago, when the potatoes came,
Jerry said he'd never seen one before.
The only way he would know about the Leprechaun's Limerick
would be if he ate the potatoes himself.
Oh, dang.
Order, order!
Order me some popcorn, 'cause this is gettin' good.
The trial of Jerry Shaw
for stealing and eating Coddingham Creme Potatoes is now in session.
Jerry, how do you plead?
Not guilty.
I'm Jerry. As was stated earlier, I never do anything wrong.
Liar! Murderer!
Judy, don't. It's not worth it.
That's not how we get justice.
Who will be representing Mr. Shaw?
I'll take the case, but if it pleases the court,
I'll be pretending to be my favorite lawyer,
the lead character from the 1961 TV show,
Shirley Dunn, Lady Lawyer With a Gun.
She waves her gun around a lot and occasionally shoots a juror.
Court is pleased. Continue.
Honeybee, your opening statement.
Oh, uh, same statements as before but about my brother this time.
Very good. Lady Lawyer, you're up.
The defense rests.
Hey, you're supposed to defend me.
No can do, buckaroo. I saw you eating those potatoes.
The court will now gasp.
Last night, I went down to the basement looking for cigarettes and nudie mags,
and that's when I saw...
Toothbrushes, toothbrushes.
Ooh, well, top of the morning to me.
You all think I'm so sweet.
Perfect little angel baby Jerry would never eat a stolen candy potato.
That's how I got away with it for so long.
It wasn't that long.
I did it because of him!
Beef, you promised me a better Tobin snowed-in experience.
And this was not that.
I was just sitting around taking your logs
while you slowly went bonkers in every single tonker you possess.
Yes, I ate the potatoes with my actual mouth,
but I was driven to do it by Beef.
They might as well be swimming around in his tummy.
I'm not guilty by reason of Beef being a bad captain.
And in closing, I put Beef back on trial.
He is guilty. The end.
- So ordered. - What?
Honeybee, your opening and closing statements.
Same statement as last time and the other time, but about Beef again.
In your face, and I rest my case.
Will anyone defend my father, the potato pig?
- I will act as my own counsel. - Proceed.
Yes, I admit it.
This was probably the most crazy I ever acted.
In fact, I was probably literally nuts
from the moment I came in here in my little white suit.
I knew it!
And I do in fact sentence myself to death.
So granted.
But before I walk the plank, I must make my real confession.
I told a rank and abhorrent lie a few days ago,
and I cannot die with that sin upon my soul.
There are in fact a whole bunch more potatoes in the basement
that I was hoarding for myself, and I cannot--
Court adjourned. Aunt Dirt, shoot anyone who follows me.
Consider it done. Shirley Dunn.
- Moon, don't you dare eat those potatoes. - Damn it. I'm out of bullets.
Get him, everybody! Get him!
Moon, get back here!
Don't think I won't bite a child! Give me those potatoes!
Oop. Hey, power's back on.
I definitely still have lice.
I believe we all do.
Well, it seems my British Royal Navy idea worked pretty well after all.
Beef, respectfully, what the hell are you talking about?
No one died, no one ate anyone,
and the house is very clean.
Pretty good. Right, guys?
Oh, yeah, Dad. Best storm yet.
Terrific.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go see how the elves are doing.
It's only a few days till Christmas, and we are way behind on wooden ducks.
- Dad, please go lie down. - You got it.
Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas, everybody.
Storm snake's gonna get you.
♪ Stay away from slumber ♪
♪ Storm snakes ♪
♪ They're gonna bring that thunder ♪
♪ They feast on REM and lemonade ♪
♪ So stay awake and be afraid ♪
♪ Storm snakes ♪
♪ Making normies quake ♪
♪ Storm snakes ♪
♪ Priests doing double takes ♪
♪ Tuck yourself in ♪
♪ And kiss your kids goodbye ♪
♪ From the depths of the sky They're gonna rain down ♪
♪ Their scales are made of fury And their screams are made of sounds ♪
♪ Storm snakes ♪