(rock music playing)
Lookie who's drivin' the sleigh.
Candy fuckin' Smalls!
Thanks for druggin' us last year.
Move it before I rotisserie your asses!
Why should we? You're not even Successor.
You couldn't even get a job as a shopping mall Santa.
That's so mean.
(accelerating)
Rhonda! No!
(cries) When you mess with Candy, you get the cane.
♪ ♪
(cries) That doofus, Devin, is gonna be the next Santa.
(joyful music playing)
Ugh, you know, I even practiced how to act surprised
when my name was announced like,
"Me? What? No! I don't deserve it!
I mean, I do, but I'm just so honored."
Ugh! It's so embarrassing.
Do you have honey mustard sauce?
Devin is such a lame choice. Santa used to be a radical.
And now, he's just a company stooge, a sellout.
Yeah, well, Jesus, so are you!
You know, I know about the Christmas Spirit Bar conspiracy.
You disgust me, Brent.
I'm only here because I've alienated
everyone else in my life, drug dealer.
It wasn't my plan. I was just following Santa's orders.
Wait a second, Santa's orders? No, no, no, no.
He told me himself he was in the dark about the meth.
Nothing happens at Santa Inc.
without that guy having a glove in it.
The meth bars were the tip of the iceberg
when it came to the darkness Santa was mired in...
There were bribes to keep the rich kids off the Naughty list,
and make sure the brats got presents instead of the coal they deserved.
And there were insider trading tips inside the stockings.
Get it? Stockings? Like, stock market?
Whatever, he always thought it was hilarious.
Stockings. Stock Market. Hilarious.
(laughs)
Plus, those lap implants
weren't just made with silicone.
There's illegal titanium from the Middle East
in those cozy suckers.
So much corruption.
Not hungry.
Thanks for mentioning that earlier,
sarcasm.
Paparazzi 1: How long is your schlong?
Paparazzi 2: Can you tie it in a knot?
Paparazzi 1: Can you tie it in a bow?
Leave me alone!
Paparazzi 3: Can I tie it for you?
Messin' around.
Devin: Ow!
I'm back to assure you guys
that none of this will change anything.
I'll still stay in my room, write your papers,
let you call me Tub Of Shit.
'pologies, bro, but you need to move out.
My coke dealer's on the corner,
and he is pissed about the press.
So, get your shit, leave right now,
love you, bro, invite us to cool shit.
Candy removed the tracking devices.
-No idea where the sleigh is. -What a traitor!
Did I tell you when she told me to "go fuck myself"?
A jillion riveting times, sire.
Then, Mrs. Claus leaves to shack up with a fucking barkeep?
Why is everyone turning on me?!
I'm fuckin' Santa! Everyone loves me.
Mick Jagger texts me every day.
He's thinkin' of growin' an old guy goatee,
and I was like, why would you cover up those lips, idiot?
Everyone loves those fuckin' lips, which reminds me.
Did you find out who was selling my beard hair?
Uh, no. Very hard to track. All those tiny hairs.
Doorbell Carolers (singing): ♪ Answer the door ♪
-♪ Answer, answer ♪ -Fuck! This doorbell was so cool at first.
What I would not give for a simple, "Ding dong! Ding dong!"
-(Doorbell Carolers crying) -That's so mean! We try so hard.
Devin? Why are you here?
He's your Successor.
Once you die, he becomes Santa.
Logically, he's, probably, come to murder you.
No, I would never kill anyone!
I just was wonderin' if I could crash for a couple nights?
Stay as long as you want. You know, you are like the son I never had.
You used to say that to me.
Come in, Dev. You look like a guy
who appreciates a half-stale sheet cake.
My fourth favorite food? How did you know?
Santa: ‘Cause it's my third favorite food!
I've had it!
God, I'm mad!
Santa Inc. is so evil.
So, stay here at Amazon and work with me.
Fuck the North Pole! The future is all about the
(sings) Northwest!
At least Amazon's not pretending to be something it isn't.
It knows it sucks.
Exactly! And we do amazing work.
Ordering face cleanser in bulk,
and havin' it delivered in 11 seconds is everything!
Your traitorous family and your idiot friends
who abandoned you are nothing.
Whoa, wait. Cookie and Goldie aren't idiots,
and I betrayed my family, too.
(sighs) Whatever. You know what I mean.
Now hop on your new mountain bike, and join me.
-Are you in? -Well...
No, I-I'm sorry. Santa Inc. is my home.
Even if everyone hates me, shuns me, laughs at me,
I have to at least try to help make things better.
But, truly, thanks for everything.
And, hey, thank you for the snacks, Curtis.
Those chicken nuggets were an absolute poem.
The secret is: baste it in its own fat.
(gasps) Ugh, they took everything.
Huh?
(party music plays)
Hey! Check out our new digs!
Look at your mom's tits!
Ugh, I know you're mad at me, and I-I probably
deserved it, but I wanna help now!
Can't hear you! Partying too hard!
Ugh!
(guns cocking)
Candy Smalls!
You're under arrest for Grand Theft Sled!
You'll never catch me alive. Serpentine fake out!
The chase begins-- (grunts)
And the chase ends.
-(siren wails) -(camera clicks)
Wait, did I look too guilty in that one?
Okay... cavity check.
Fine, but it's a total waste of time.
You know, I may be a sugar fiend,
but I am also obsessed with flossing.
You know, death creeps in through the gums.
(growls)
Oh, you don't mean that kind of cavity.
Candy: I should not be locked up in here.
Neither should I.
All I wanna do is give people happy endings.
Hollywood loves 'em, Tra La La,
but in real life, it's a crime.
-What're you in for, Hot Toddy? -Breakin' and enterin'.
Santa does it a million times in one night, it's adorable.
When I do it once in my whole goddamn life,
-I get locked up for years! -Textbook double standard.
There's so much corruption and hypocrisy.
Things have to change. But... but how?
What do you mean "how"? Shake some shit up.
Start a revolution, sister!
A revolution? Me? Oh, really? Oh, that's nuts.
I don't like that phrase!
Sorry, my first love was a chestnut.
Smartest woman I ever knew.
Until she roasted herself over that open fire.
You remind me of her.
The, the pre-roasting part, I mean.
I do? But, no, I'm the biggest
laughingstock in the North Pole.
I'm not the next Santa.
I'm just a highly intelligent nobody.
Listen to me, Candy.
You're a coal miner's daughter
who got to the top of the ladder at Santa Inc.
All of us girls in the women's clink
-were rootin' for you to be Santa. -It's true!
We all went on a hunger strike when Santa chose Devin.
-You did?! -We sure as hell did!
Until they broke us with some rigatoni Bolognese.
(softly): So damn delicious...
Anyway, Candy, you'll figure out how to start the revolution,
and change this shitty place.
And when you do, send me a pound cake with a file in it.
Thanks for believing in me, you guys.
It feels good, really.
But I'm currently incarcerated, so I can't do anything.
Candy Smalls! You have a visitor.
Biscuit! Wow! Oh my god, you guys,
Biscuit is my best friend's cousin from England.
She's like a super high-powered lawyer.
I'm sorry. Barrister.
Did Cookie bail me out?!
Dear me. Unfortunately, no.
My cousin is still extremely pissed with you
for quote, "being a dick," unquote.
Your bail came from an anonymous Super PAC.
Now let's get out of this shit box.
-Help the cause, Candy! -Fight for us all!
Goodbye, Hot Toddy. Goodbye, Tra La La.
You haven't heard the last of me,
-I promise! -Yes! You got this!
-Come on, Candy! You go, girl! -Don't forget about the cake,
and if you can make it a pound cake--
-Reporter 1: Candy, what's the story? -Reporter 2: Candy...
-(reporters shouting) -Santa!
-Candy-- -Please don't speak to my client.
Ugh, I've decided I am not going to press charges
because of my gigantic and incredibly cool heart!
Uh, and also, you know what, you're fired, you fuckin' wise-ass.
Uh,‘cause you told me to "go fuck myself,"
which I'm totally over, never hurt in the first place,
-but still, fuck you. -Pff! No biggie.
I was just about to quit, so it doesn't count as being fired anyway.
But ha ha, you didn't quit,
so, uh, you're fired. I win. Fuck you.
You're fired as fuck, motherfucker.
Fine, I'm free.
I'd rather be an unpaid intern at Passover
then work for your stupid company.
Great, go have some roaring haroset, and get lost.
Good, I love haroset. I love the combination
of flavors. It's delicious.
Stop squeezing my hand so hard.
Wait, is that morse code?
Are you squeezing, "Go fuck yourself"?
Why, yes, I am, and no one knows it,
which is cool as shit. So, guess what? I win!
Ugh, I-- You know what, show's over.
Thank you for coming, everyone!
Goddammit, it stings every time.
Gosh, that was easy money.
Sorry about your job, but what're you doing now?
I gotta clean out my office, and steal some office supplies
because no matter how alone I am in this fight,
my revolution will be collated.
-(Candy gasps) -Candy, I'm so sorry.
My dream was that Santa and I would one day
do a classic rock karaoke duet.
Not that he'd make me the next Santa! That was your dream.
Stop. It's, It's not your fault.
It was your beard, and your gut, and your dick.
And your college, and your frat choice,
and your-- I guess, your personality.
Hey, I was just... looking for Devin.
Goldie, you're looking well.
Candace Ellen Smalls.
Awkward!
Ooh, guys. Who's gonna talk? Who's gonna talk next?
I-I'm sorry. I was a bitch.
But I, I thought that if you were my true bitch
that you wouldn't bitch about me being such a bitch.
But I was being a little bitch, and I apologize.
I'm so sorry, and I, I love you.
-Oh. -Aw, this is sweet.
And you know what's kinda weird-a-roo
in like a super cosmic fate-y kinda way?
I would never have even been on Santa's radar
if it hadn't been for what Goldie told me to do.
Goldie?! You told Devin to go for Successor?
Even though you knew it was my dream?
You know what, you have always been jealous of me
-because I accomplish things while you're stuck on the bench! -No!
Devin, why're you saying that?
Well, in a way, you did, babe.
You told me you wanted a partner with a career,
so I got all ambitious.
Oh, she inspired you, oopsie.
That's on me. I'm good now. Phew! False-o alarm-o.
Nope, because now I am fucking pissed!
You think I'd hurt you like that because I'm jealous of you?!
I was happy when I heard Devin was gonna be Santa instead of you.
Wow, really nice. That is so fucked!
I thought everything would go back to normal, and I'd get my friend back,
but I'd rather sit on that bench for a thousand years
before sitting in this room with you for one more second.
I-- You-- We're not even sitting!
And, god, we shouldn't even be fighting!
We're all just collateral damage in a much bigger conspiracy.
Conspiracy? Do you realize how nuts you sound?
Girl fights are so weird.
The Igma Loo bros would just smash my face into a door,
and all would be forgiven.
Simple and civilized.
Goldie/Candy: Shut up, Devin!
-Shut up, Candy! -You shut up, Goldie!
Ugh, I need a fucking drink.
I feel like this is my fault.
Candy: Yeah, it is, dumb fuck!
Oops.
Mrs. Claus: Hey.
Mm, dammit, you're sexy.
The last time Santa told me that was in 1969 at Spruce Stock,
when "Blowing In The Snow" was playing.
Holy mother of May and December.
Ah! James, you can turn around right this instant.
If Santa wants to talk to me,
he can drag his butt here himself.
This is not about Santa. It's about... this!
Uh, no idea what that means, but it seems private.
I acted out because I felt trapped in my life.
A little... Claus-trophobic?
Yes!
I could kick myself for never thinking of that.
I felt so sheltered and useless.
I wanted to feel like a young girl again.
-A young girl who sold hair? -(Mrs. Claus sighs)
My father, Leonard Senior, was a barber,
and every night we'd peddle the day's shavings to the poor
for them to use for pillow and mattress stuffings, and hair dolls.
I came from nothing, and then, grew up to have everything,
and still feel like I wasted my life.
(singing) ♪ Try to burn me with deceit and lies ♪
♪ 'Cause in the end, like a phoenix ♪
♪ I'll rise ♪
Dave-Pierre! Dave-Pierre! Hello? I need some advice.
How do I make big changes to--
Hey... Huh?
-What the hell? -I left Santa
because he's the worst,
and I moved in with Dave-Pierre,
and I have no regrets. (chuckles)
This man's tongue was built for giving women orgasms.
-(Mrs. Claus laughs) -What can I say, I've been blessed.
And I came here as a safe haven to vent about how much Santa sucks.
Oh my god. Is this anger because he didn't pick me as Successor?
You guys, I'm moved!
That is not the whole story.
Don't you dare be moved by me!
Well, Jingle Jim, I do dare.
And guess what? I have a plan to take that fucker down.
I am going to start a revolution of one.
My allies may despise me,
but I alone can single-handedly fix
this deceptively adorable empire!
Uh... clap now.
Oh, Candy, this is exactly what tripped you up with Successor.
You thought you could do it all by yourself.
You can't make this kind of change alone.
You need us. And everyone.
All of the workers oppressed by Santa Inc.
As much as it pains me to be nice to you,
you're the person to lead it, Candy.
People rooted for you to be the next Santa.
Despite that annoying, high-pitched voice of yours,
-I believe they'll listen to you. -No, they won't!
I was an asshole, and everyone despises me.
What could ever change that?
-You could apologize to them. -He's right!
Women are always apologizing.
You should be good at that!
Yeah, well, it's not that easy, Mrs. Claus.
-I mean, I tried with Goldie. It just made it worse. -Try harder.
Jesus, this new Mrs. Claus is pushy.
But, yeah, let's do this! Together!
(all cheering)
(crying)
I'm sorry. You know, I did things
I never thought I would do to become the next Santa.
I keep thinking about the South Pole trip.
You know, how happy I was when everyone said
I was "one of the guys."
It was so weird and off-brand,
but I didn't wanna say anything.
You were so psyched.
So, I just talked shit about you with Goldie later.
All I want now is to be one of the girls.
-Too bad Goldie still hates me. -I know.
I heard about your fight. It sounds ugly,
but I've been going through a lot myself.
Tomorrow, I'm quitting my job at the factory.
But this is what you always wanted,
a baby, a husband, a career, a, a premature ham--
You have a career, or... had one.
I stare into space, stirring a bunch of melted sugar.
When Fun Size tried to assassinate his babysitter,
I realized he's not happy, and neither am I.
I missed his first steps.
Is it really worth missing my kid's whole childhood?
Ah, it sounds like the right move.
But can you hold on a little longer?
I, I need your help.
Ooh, you know how I love being needed.
What is going on?
I can't get into it, but do me a favor,
and bring the factory women to a meeting.
It's on Thanksgiving.
I don't know, Candy.
I wanna be home for the holidays.
I already promised Craig I'd hang out
while he made a dry turkey for his horrible family.
Did I tell you his sister's dating an ornament?
Everyone's freaking out about it.
I get it. I do. But just please think about it.
It's not just about me and my ego this time, I promise.
So, I wanted to apologize for how I, uh...
manipulated the situation at the golf course.
I'm, uh, sorry, Junior.
Oh, Candy.
If you thought coming here and apologizing to me
would mean I'd stop being a rude asshole to you, you're wrong.
Now I'm going to be a rude, vengeful asshole, Tiny Brain.
What's that supposed to mean?
"Duh... what's 'Tiny Brain' mean?"
Elves have tiny brains, and lady elves have the tiniest.
I used to know your mother, so I know.
You did? I, I had no idea--
All women are whores, and all elves are trash,
and all women elves are trashy whores.
So, I do not accept your apology, you trashy whore elf!
-(Junior grunts) -Wow, that guy is fucked up.
Look, I know we've had a complicated relationship,
and I-I'm sorry I betrayed you all.
Come on, Candy.
I'm rich.
I don't give two shits about anything anymore.
Mom, do you forgive me?
I will...
when you call all the Board members,
and recommend me as a mistress.
Here's some talking points.
"My mom never met a shaft she couldn't crank,
but, beware, Big Candy may cause extreme horniness."
-Fine. Tony? -I might be covered in bling, yeah,
but I still feel like shit because of you.
Why didn't anyone tell us money doesn't bring happiness?
I feel like it's a pretty common thing you hear a lot.
I don't care. It sucks!
There's only one thing I want from you, Candy,
and only then will we be cool again.
(singing) ♪ If there is nothing under the tree ♪
♪ Don't be sad ♪
♪ You'll always have me ♪
♪ Me, me, me, me ♪
(guitar riffs)
♪ Me ♪
Y-You'll always have me, and that's a promise.
That was truly beautiful. Like, really, Tony.
I mean, the previous 20 songs were garbage, but...
you know, you're like a monkey at a typewriter.
Every so often you get it right.
Well, we all know I love monkeys, so, huh...
-Thanks, Sis. -Love you, bro.
It's taken 20 years, but I'm glad we cleared the air.
-(flatulence) -(all laughing)
Santa: Happy Thanksgiving, everybody.
Glad you could make it, Almonds.
I feel like I need some counsel.
You know, I, I hope I didn't take you away from your family.
Well, my quadruplets are only nine months.
They'll retain no memory of the abandonment,
and my husband is a sociopath. He feels nothing.
In other words, all good!
Do you think I've changed over the years?
Have I stopped caring about what's important?
Santa, you're fuckin' fine. Women suck.
Candy sucks, your wife sucks.
My mother was a fuckin' monster.
She told me my nose made me look like a fuckin' freak,
and made me paint it with nail polish to hide it!
The only woman who I thought was cool was a tiny-brained elf
I loved who rejected me for a coal miner!
Me?! I fuck human models!
Are you talking about Big Candy? She was the love of your life?!
Wow, Sherlock Holmes just crashed our dinner.
Now fuck off, B-Team.
Oh, god. Junior sucks.
This is turning into the creepiest
Thanksgiving of my life.
I'll take care of this.
So, uh... ding, ding, ding.
I'd like to make a holiday toast.
Uh, in the immortal words of my fourth-grade teacher,
Mr. Joopy, who was later arrested for dating a student,
"If no one else will let you sit at their lunch table,
there's always room at mine."
Hey, hey did you see my new barracuda fish?
The Board got them for me as a Successor pick bonus.
They glow in the dark all the time.
It's like watching a bunch of cell phones float around in a tank.
(mischievous music plays)
(indistinct chatter)
Uh, hi, hey. Can I have everyone's attention?
(coughs)
Hi! Keep talking, keep talking.
Friends, co-workers, and family,
thank you so much for being here.
I'm gonna say this plain and simple,
we are all sick of the shit that goes on at Santa Inc.
So, let's change things! Who's with me?
I've been forced to sit my partridge ass
in this goddamn pear tree for 20 years
with a debilitating pear allergy
just because of some stupid song!
Are you aware of what sores looks like on a partridge?!
Because they do not look like regular sores!
-They look like... this! -Oh my god, my eye holes!
I complained to all the department heads, but no one ever cared!
Every time I pick mistletoe, I get sexually assaulted.
Turtle doves are being replaced with tortoise doves,
and no one says anything! What are you gonna do?
Listen, listen!
I have a plan,
and it is going to blow your minds.
(all cheering)
(light music playing)
♪ If there is nothing under the tree ♪
♪ Don't be sad, you'll always have me ♪
♪ Me, me, me, me ♪
(guitar riffs)
♪ Don't be sad, you'll always have me ♪
Y-You'll always have me.