Robot Chicken s08e90 Episode Script

Wedlocked

1 "Christmas Special: X-mas United" Boy: # Squeeze the toothpaste from the tube # fa-la-la-la-la-la, la rinse and spit [Spits.]
check to see if I've got pubes fa-la-la-la-la-la [screams.]
[Screams indistinctly.]
Oh, honey, get the camera! Our little boy got his man bush! Keep the strays off the toilet seat, son.
My pubes are white! I look like Roger Sterling down there.
Sweetie, uh, it's time you knew.
Does your new, snowy man meadow remind you of anything? Ohh! Am I a wampa?! - Your real father is Santa Claus! - [Gasps.]
My real father? We were together for only one magical night, but he left me a present you and crabs.
And this.
I told him my name was Portia.
Ha! A virgin named Portia.
Come on.
Anyway, flip it over.
Ah, the Polar Express! Yay! I miss those crabs.
[Train whistle blows.]
[Steam hissing.]
Oh, there it is the Hogwarts Express I mean the Polar Express! Aah! - Tickets, please! - Tom Hanks.
Oh Jesus you're so lifelike.
The palette is meant to represent the source material.
Tickets, please.
[Laughs.]
Thanks for the monologuing.
Gotta find a seat.
Bye.
[whispers.]
Kill me.
I'm Del Griffith, off to the North Pole to sell shower-curtain rings.
Only place on Earth without a Bed Bath & Beyond, so I'll make a fortune.
Uh, their website delivers everywhere these days.
Have you ever been to Paris? They don't shower, or as they call it, douche.
The revolution has begun.
Wow! Chris Evans, and he's got a baby! Oh, I bet he's an awesome dad.
Oh, my god, he's eating the baby! We've got to get to the engine and stop this train.
Take a bite of this baby, and let's go.
Uh"a," I don't want to eat a baby.
- And, "b" - Move, move, move, move! Now! [Chuckles.]
How you fixed for shower rings, kid? [Chomps.]
Thank you.
[as tom Hanks.]
Oh Christ, I can't die! Now, I never douched my butt hole, but I got to tell you, those frogs can't get enough of it.
Well, looks like we're hoofing it.
We can't walk to the North Pole.
Guys, I found the baby freezer.
Who's up for Chinese baby? [Sighs.]
Let's just go.
[Chuckles.]
Hot dang, I'm gonna make a big sale at the North Po [Grunts.]
Oh, no, a heart attack! How unexpected.
Ohh, too bad I don't have a lightsaber.
[Rattling.]
[Grunting.]
Ew.
He's not made of candy at all.
[Yawns.]
That was surprisingly roomy and comfortable.
[Gasps.]
Oh, my gosh! [Festive music plays.]
Yeah! Whee! - Uh, can I park that for you, sir? - Thanks.
I made it! [Gasps.]
It's more beautiful than I ever imagined.
Ooh, neat! What's this switch do? Can I try painting that? It's cool.
I'm Santa's son.
Hey, bubble wrap! [Popping.]
I'm so filled with christmas joy! Gee, that overbite makes you look just like a beaver.
And if there's one thing I hate, it's beaver.
I'll fix you right up.
The name's Hermey.
I'm a wonderful dentist.
[Babbling.]
Yeah, I'm good.
Thanks.
Ooh! Toys! Cool! What does it transform into? Nothing.
It doesn't transform into anything.
It's just a train, handcrafted with love and Hey, where's the Xbox assembly line?! Elves can't make cutting-edge electronics, okay? For those, you need a different kind of magical creature.
Chinese slave children.
[Trombone plays "wah-wahhh".]
We also make horns.
Uh, this is fun and all, but I still haven't met Santa Claus.
[Up-tempo music plays.]
Wait.
I hear entrance music.
[Shimmer!.]
It's It's him! Huh? An outsider? Here? [Alarm blaring.]
[Screaming.]
Aah! Aah! Sorry we had to burn all your clothes, but germs don't affect elves the same way as humans.
Good thing we cleaned you up before you had a chance to touch anything.
Uh, well, actually [Elves growling.]
Oh, you little A.
I.
D.
S.
monkey! [Growling continues.]
Run! Santa, let me guide your way! Guide your way to hell! Hyah! Aah! Ohh! Ohh! Okay, I've got a plan.
I'm gonna need a paint can, a long string, some nails, a cheese pizza, a VHS tape of "Angels with filthy souls.
" Or we could just use these.
Gonna have to use my A.
K.
Guess it's not a good day.
Sorry, Cube.
And if these don't work, there's always the nuclear option.
Nonproliferation, my ass.
Santa don't play N.
A.
T.
O.
[Hip-hop music plays.]
[Saw buzzing.]
[Saw buzzing.]
Uh [Elves growling.]
Come on.
Come on.
Yes, the VSC 79 Viper! Recalled for its kid-killing murder rockets! [Gunfire.]
Hey.
Wait a second.
I haven't been home in years.
[Echoing.]
Haven't been home in years.
Haven't been home in years.
He didn't have a home.
Never douched my butt hole.
[Chuckles.]
Never douched my butt hole.
- He didn't have a butt hole.
- Heads up! Hey, Santa, it ain't Christmas without your brother, Fred Claus! Say hello to Rudolph, you freeloading prick.
- We did it! - And we still have two clips left.
Whoo-hoo-hoo-hoo! [Laughing, music.]
That was great.
Ow, something's poking me.
My nuclear remote! [Alarm blaring.]
It's stuck on autopilot.
It'll go to the first kids on the list.
Let's see who they are.
Hmm, two beautiful Muslim-Kenyan names.
[Gasps.]
[bleep.]
The White House! Can't you call them back? No, dumbass, you sat on the remote.
They're trained to follow the autopilot.
- There must be a failsafe! - Yeah.
It's on the remote.
We'll have to take out the J.
V.
Reindeer.
Oh, cool.
What are their names? Hoofy and Stickhead.
Who gives a [bleep.]
? Get on! [Whinnies.]
Ow! [Splat!.]
- Hoofy! - I'm Hoofy! Who gives a [bleep.]
now, climb! Turn around.
Turn around.
Turn around! Yay! [Growling.]
Aah! Aah! Santa Claus! Oh, my god! Oh, wow.
I'll take the reins.
You disarm the bomb.
- It's a very user-friendly interface.
- Gotcha! [Growling.]
[Alarm blaring.]
Oh shit.
[Growling.]
Ho, ho, you scab! [Whinnies.]
[Snorts.]
[Screaming.]
I'm sorry, Christmas.
It looks like hanukkah finally won.
Wait, what's this? [Bomb powers down.]
Hey, that was pretty user-friendly.
I guess this is it.
I'm gonna die a virgin, just like the Lindbergh baby.
[Grumbling.]
Oh, wait, that's it.
Everyone knows bumbles bounce.
[Grumbles.]
Let's bounce! Uh, correction.
Bumbles do not bounce.
[Brakes screeching.]
Boy, you saved Christmas.
- All the elves are dead! - Ah, I'll clone some more.
Wow, Dad, you think of everything.
"Dad"? What makes you think I'm your father? I've been shooting blanks ever since I bought that nuke.
Huh.
Probably a coincidence.
Here my Mom met you in college.
Don't you remember her? Oh, yeah.
I remember her.
It was the 2002 college debate tour.
Claus versus Krampus.
Your mom was a stone-cold freak.
What was her name? Hyundai Sonata? Krampus made a lot of good points about the Iraq war that night.
He took home the gold.
- But we both took home the pink.
- I think I get it.
Thank you.
As usual, the Krampus went raw dawg.
Damn, than man could debate.
And so, long story short, Santa and the Krampus Eiffel-towered your freaky, luded-out mama.
No.
No, I refuse to believe that Krampus is my father! - How about now? - Oh, dang it.
I'm home! Merry Christmas! - Did you find your father? - I sure did.
As far as I'm concerned, you're my real dad.
- Wow.
That's great.
- Yay.
And as I turned [to the tune of "Cat's in the cradle.]
from the window, it occurred to me I'm never gonna need this ball no, I guess I should return this ball 'cause the Krampus is your daddy and your mom's a whore the Krampus went raw dawg in a fine sophomore he should have pulled out, but he sprung a leak 'cause your mom was a stone-cold freak oh, yeah, you know she was a freak I hope your mama burned those sheets
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