Santa Inc. (2021) s01e02 Episode Script

All:
Three Two One!
Happy New Year!
Woo!
Any resolutions,
Dave-Pierre?
Eh, maybe
get a shrink.
How 'bout you?
I'm gonna stop
eating carbs,
be nicer to my Mom,
become the next
Successor--
My New Year's resolution
is to find out
if those titties
of yours
are as pointy
as your ears.
You know, I'd normally
find that repulsive,
but you're actually
inspiring me to like
make Santa Inc.
safe from predators who
force women to remain
scared and silent,
so thank you.
(joyful music playing)
(sirens wailing)
Santa:
Timmy the Toy Guy would
also make a decent Successor.
Larson in Chocolate is solid.
Below 85 degrees at least.
And Junior wants to put
his nose in the ring.
-Ha! Nose? Hello?
-(slurping)
I'm droppin' fuckin'
bombs here, c'mon!
You really want me
to stop blowing you
just to acknowledge
that terrible joke?
-I mean, I will.
-Yeah, some sort
of acknowledgment.
(sighs)
Okay.
(laughs)
Ah, hilarious!
Was that really
better than me
sucking your dick?
Ho, ho, ho shit!
Oh, Mrs. Claus.
How awesome would
I be to have chosen
the first Black Successor,
and then, the first
woman Successor?
You know how
firsts of any kind
turn me on.
Candy's a Jew, too.
She checks off two boxes:
woman and Jew.
Holy shit!
Holy shit!
A woman and a Jew?!
I'll go from historic to,
like, fuckin' legendary!
Oh my god! Enough!
Uh, can I ask what
your problem is?
We made
a New Year's Eve
resolution
to improve
our sex life
an hour ago,
and you've already
blown it off.
That's categorically insane.
I just nutted.
-Think we're doin' okay.
-Ugh!
♪
Ah, the North Pole University
interns on their first day.
Look at those
adorable, excited faces.
-So, who did you assign to me?
-Fat guy in cargo shorts.
Candy:
Why not a fat girl
in cargo shorts?
Assigning you a woman
just because
she's a woman
is mad discriminatory.
Will you relax?
Brent was a man,
and I couldn't
have dreamed of
a better mentor,
up until he abandoned me.
I wonder who's gonna be doing
the State of the Workshop
speech tonight.
I wish it could
be me, but I--
You know, Santa will
probably just step in.
All right, let's do this.
Hello, the future!
-(interns cheering)
-I am Candy Smalls,
acting Head of Operations.
Let me tell you
about myself.
As a kid, I was working
in the candy factory
when Brent discovered me.
He saw my excitement,
how fast my hands
wrapped the mints,
and he taught me
everything he knew.
Today, you are
about to take
a giant step
into your future career.
-And I mean giant.
-(interns laughing)
-So let's get started!
-(cheering)
Ooh, she's good.
I felt that in my gut.
Bravo, Candy!
And welcome, NPU seniors!
My old alma mater.
South Pole U
Football sucks dick!
Go Mighty Mistletoes!
-Good morning, Santa!
-Hello, I am the intern
to you, Candy Smalls.
Uh, my name
is Devin Johnson.
Great to meet ya,
Devin Johnson.
Let's get goin'.
I got a meeting
with the Head of Toys,
and you're comin' with me.
W-With Timmy
the Toy Guy?
The dude who put
the "B" in Furby?
The "X" in Xbox?
The man who said
on May 3, 1978,
"This doll's patch
should be
one of cabbage"?
(shouts):
Let's freakin' go!
I'm about to meet
the most exciting
person who ever lived!
The idea sparked
at the urgent care
waiting room.
I sprained my hand,
it's fine,
and ran into a mole
who had been concussed
-with a mallet.
-Can we just--
He told me that moles' lives
have been destroyed
by the game Whack-A-Mole.
Yes, I've heard this before.
So I thought we could protect
the enchanting species
with our next big Christmas toy,
Smash-A-Sloth.
(game beeping)
There he goes.
I just have a thought.
Never mind,
I'm a loser who sucks.
Stop it!
Tell me what you're thinkin'.
And, you know,
never say "I suck"
before you pitch an idea.
No idea sucks.
Well, I just think
now moles will be safe,
but won't sloths
be terrorized?
Maybe the whack'ed should
be something that deserves it,
like Whack-A-White Supremacist.
(phone ring tone):
It's Santa, yay!
Holy shit fuck.
Santa just texted me
for the first time ever.
He wants to see me.
I should frame this.
No, I should get over there.
All right, good start, Timmy.
Why don't you get going on
the new and improved
Devin angle?
-Okay.
-Oh, wow!
I was sooo into your speech
to the interns, Candy.
Help me!
I was sooo into it.
You inspired
and you entertained,
two very important
Santa qualities.
Did you like when
I held up my shoe?
That was pure improv.
I loved it! I was like,
how-wha-whe-wha-what?
Did she come up
with that last night?
Write it down
and then find
a way to do it?
Blew my fuckin' mind.
That's all I can say.
And that is why
I want you to give
the State of the Workshop
speech tonight.
(screams)
Oh my god!
Ah! So honored.
Just blown away,
but still standing here,
but just blown away.
I took your words
of wanting to be
Successor to heart.
Because I am, in fact,
the coolest, dopest Santa ever.
I'm sorry,
I need to scream more.
(high-pitched screams)
Oh my god! Oh my god!
(screams)
I think it's
exciting, too.
It's great for the Board
to see a woman
take the helm.
Yes, love the optics.
Love that you're hearing me.
Loving everything about this.
I'm, I'm gonna go prepare.
Just do the same thing
Brent did every year.
The Board loves it,
and another friendly
word of advice, Candy,
Don't fuck this up,
or your shot at being Successor
is fucking doomed!
(ominous music playing)
Oh my god, I'm kidding!
Ah! That was so--
You should've
seen your face!
I totally had you.
(nervous laughter)
You've been had, lady.
Anyway, you'll be great.
Get me out of here!
Wow, can you
believe this day?
-Maybe I'm a good luck charm?
-I'm a good luck charm.
Snowflakes are
the rabbit's foot
of the North Pole.
Ooh, somebody's getting
jelly of the new guy.
Don't worry.
I've got enough love
for both of you.
-(Jeremy giggles)
-Okay, cancel my lunch
with Cookie and Goldie.
I need to clear my day,
and prepare for this speech.
Now, let's start
by checking out
Brent's old tapes.
I'm there every year,
but I'm always
behind the scenes.
I'm never up close watching it.
-(audience cheering)
-(pony neighs)
Members of the Board,
Santa Claus,
our beloved press, welcome.
Only 360 days
until Christmas Eve,
and this one
is going to be
better than ever.
Because at Santa Inc.,
the State of the Workshop is
strong as a reindeer's
petrified shit!
So here's some early
presents for all of you!
Woo-hoo!
Yeah, that's for you.
You deserve it. You deserve it.
Open it up!
Jesus, can I really do that?
No, you need
charisma for this.
Like Brent and Santa and me.
Ah! I'm panicking.
Somebody get me
guacamole and chips,
so I can stress eat.
(phone ringing)
Brent?
How's Seattle?
Hope it's not raining,
but I'm sure it is,
so get used to being
slightly wet
all the time,
damp sucka!
You have a right
to be mad at me.
I'm sorry.
(cries)
Why'd you leave me?
It was a last-minute thing.
Okay? I know, I suck.
Yeah, I'll have
the Amazon Prime Rib,
medium rare.
Coming right up.
Anyways, I wanna talk about you,
Lady Ambition.
I heard you put
the Successor feelers
out to Santa,
and you're givin'
the State of the Workshop
speech tonight?
How did you know?
Oh, is Alexa
some kind of like
illegal surveillance device?
Hey, this speech
is major exposure.
Have you watched my old tapes?
Just did and your
razzle-dazzle is insane.
I just I don't
have that in me.
Oh, fuck off, Candace.
I've seen your karaoke moves.
Prime rib at prime speed.
The dips,
the meaningful
eye contact.
Yeah, I guess my mic skills
have been called magical
by many of all backgrounds.
Just believe in yourself
the way I believe in you.
Say it. Say it. Say it.
Say it. Say it. Say it.
(shouts):
I believe in myself!
(laughs)
Okay, this could work.
And, maybe, I could add my own,
uh, spin to the speech.
You know, butter up
the Board with some
-sexy new innovation talk--
-Ugh, God, no!
Just ride in on the mini pony,
shoot glitter bombs,
say, "Next Christmas
will be the best ever,"
then smother them with swag.
Here comes
the airplane, sir.
Gotta go. Love ya, kid.
Shit, she looks calmer.
A happy Candy means more work.
That is correct, my friend!
Now, fasten your seatbelts!
It's gonna be a hell of a show!
-Ha-cha-cha!
-Yes. Ha-cha-cha!
-Oi.
-C'mon, everyone!
Candy and Devin:
Ha-cha-cha!
Ha-cha-no.
All right, Jeremy,
play the mini pony
one more time.
Then you can finish
filling the swag bags.
No, no more!
I did not write
a college thesis
on racism in
the Bismarck Empire
so I could play
a mini pony.
I'll be the pony.
Of course, I'll be--
It's an honor to be the pony,
and really just
to be in this room.
And I wanna hear
more about Brent, too.
His efficiency is
the stuff of legends.
I know.
Every year when
Brent was in charge,
the sled went
.6% faster than
the year before.
Guess who finally banged
Donner last night?
Not y'all! Holla!
Goldie, I thought we
canceled our lunch.
Oh, hello there.
I love me a lumber-jock
in cargo shorts.
What is your name, sweetie?
The streets call me Devin
but you can
call me Baby.
Girl, look what I stole
from under Donner's bed.
Devin:
Christmas Spirit bars?
Those are only for
the reindeer A-Team.
Very, very rare.
I know.
I had one this morning,
and they're good as fuck.
But I'm gonna
sell the rest
since my health
insurance sucks.
Oh shit!
This is my song!
-What song?
-The beat of the Tejano music.
(sings)
Tejano-jano-jano music.
-There's no music.
-Come here, baby!
(vocalizing)
Okay, no stripping
in my office, please.
I need them cargo shorts
all up on my body.
Uh, I think you need
some air, Goldie.
I'll be five minutes, max.
The A-Team reindeer
get everything!
Energy bars,
a month-long
January retreat!
It's really fucked up!
What is with these
mood swings today?
You were salsa dancing
three minutes ago,
and now you're
in a rage spiral--
You destroyed my lunch,
you token elf cunt!
Uh, wow.
Every word
of that sentence
is unacceptable
in an evolved society.
Yo' face is unacceptable
in an evolved society.
Now I'll be late.
He hates it when we're late!
Apologize to my friend,
you dick!
Yes, I'm a dick
with a massive dick.
And you'll never get yo'
pathetic B-Team paws on it.
-(yells)
-Whoa, not the nose!
(yelling)
Hey BFFs, aren't
we having lunch?
What's the hold up?
Help me, Cookie!
Goldie's fucking
losing it!
-Stop!
-My nose is insured
for a billion dollars,
-you shit-eating whore.
-Goldie: Nuh-uh!
That motherfucka did
not just slut shame me!
Get back here!
Candy:
Goldie, let me down!
I need to get Brent's
sequined turtleneck
tailored for my speech!
-(intense music playing)
-(horn honking)
-Hey!
-(tires screeching)
-Ah!
-Ahh!
Whoa!
Ahh!
Whoa! Junior!
Awesome!
Hey, watch it,
you random bitch!
♪
Goldie:
Where'd he go?
You guys saw
him too, right?
Is this real?
Goldie, honey,
you're having
a bit of an episode,
but Cookie's going to help
you through this, okay?
Get your shit together!
-Ow!
-(grunting)
It's so weird when
you guys do this.
-(grunting)
-(yelling)
Cookie:
Jump into the tree!
I know it seems
counterintuitive,
but do it!
(grunting)
(sighs)
I really don't have
time for this.
(grunts)
Whoa!
Ahh!
Ew, gross.
The fancy chute
was misleading.
Eh, maybe they
got a deal.
Good for them.
Ugh, there's not even
cell service down here.
Ugh, I'm committing
career suicide!
Don't be dramatic,
or there'll be no room
for me to be dramatic.
It's my dominant
character trait!
You get bossy and screechy,
and I get dramatic!
That is a very
fucked-up world view,
but let's table that for now
'cause we need
to get out of here.
♪
-Dasher?
-You'll go down in history?
No, I'll go down in history!
Like Jesus, motherfuckers!
(laughs)
(softly):
The secret is
low and slow.
-Blitzen?
-That's how you make
scrambled eggs, ooh.
Low and slow.
You have to keep stirrin' it,
much like a risotto.
What is going on here?
The A-Team is supposed
to be at their annual
January retreat.
The hell? God!
Cookie, do you
have a wet wipe?
I should because
I am constantly
covered in vomit
or red wine,
but you know
why I don't?
Because I'm a horrible mother,
-and a sloppy drunk.
-Wait! Shh!
Reindeer:
one was too many,
and 1,000 was never enough.
I found that
at the end
of the rainbow
was just a gutter
filled with prostitutes.
Will you shut these babies up?
I don't belong here.
Is that you,
or your nose talking?
One and the same.
I've always been different,
but the good kind,
a special different.
It's in our differences where
we find our commonalities.
Your nose is to you
what Prancer the Third's
prolapsed anus is to him.
I've learned that
my anus is what makes
me beautiful and unique.
Oh my god,
I think this is a rehab.
Dr. Almonds:
You carry a heavy
burden, Junior.
Trying to live up
to your legendary father.
Just let go
and be you.
(cries)
Y-You're right. You're right.
(cries)
Every time I make
my nose change color,
it's just me cryin' out,
"Look at me, Daddy!
Love me, Daddy!
Love me!"
And the sad part is,
that asshole resents
me for it.
He'd love me more
if I had just been
some no-nosed loser.
I love you all.
(cries)
That's insane.
I know every
inch of Santa Inc.,
every inch of the North Pole.
I've never heard of this place.
-Checking in?
-Ahh!
(sighs)
That was stupid, ah!
Should we have left
the office without Candy?
Bad intern! Bad intern!
I don't know.
I left her multiple messages.
Well, one.
Somewhere between
one and none.
-Now start unloading the swag.
-Holy shit! It's the Board!
Cardinal Stryker, Mayor Foster,
Frederick Arthur, the CEO
of North Pole Enterprises!
They're the real power.
Santa may run the company,
but they get the final word
over every major decision.
Press:
Santa! Santa, over here!
Wow, Mrs. Claus.
She's even sexier than
on my advent calendar.
Stop drooling.
We need to get ready for Candy.
Where is she anyway?
-(banging)
-Candy (shouts): Let me out!
I have a speech to give!
Do you know who I am?!
I am a very high-level
executive at Santa Inc.!
I know that's all true,
but in this context,
you just sound
delusional.
Here you are.
I've been expecting you
now that you're in charge
of day-to-day operations.
Tell me,
where you surprised
when you discovered
the Christmas Spirit bars
were actually meth?
-I know I was.
-Crystal meth?!
I'm on crystal meth?!
Oh, so you didn't know.
Whoopsie.
Frederick Arthur:
Where's this girl
of yours, Nick?
She better be
worth the wait.
Candy's the greatest,
but you know women,
fashionably late.
Did I ever tell you guys
about Sting's chimney?
A hollowed-out
elephant tusk.
Very smooth ride.
They never should've
outlawed ivory.
(whispers):
Yo, Jingle Jim!
Where the fuck is Candy?
Find her, you fucking dick.
Well, the A- eats the bars
for maximum speed
on Christmas Eve.
Then, every January,
they come here to sober up.
Brent's been doin' this
for over a decade.
There's no way that's true.
Brent makes me
matzo ball soup
when I'm sick.
The man is a mensch,
he's not a drug dealer!
Think about it.
How do you think
Brent was able to beat
delivery time records
year after year.
Whose job depended
on efficiency?
Who got all
of the accolades,
and bonuses?
Private island-sized bonuses.
Brent told me he bought
that island with family money.
Shit, my Brent is evil?
I guess it all makes sense
if I think about it.
He did
a Men of Efficiency
Calendar for god sakes,
and every month was him.
Forget Brent.
Focus on your
own goals and mine.
Make your speech,
become a Successor,
get me off that bench,
and then--
She's right.
I need to get to
the State of the Workshop.
I'll take care
of Goldie. Just go.
(upbeat music playing)
Oh, shit!
Am I fucked?
You're just
a few minutes behind,
but before you go on,
I have something I wanna say.
You'll be great up there
because you're
great at your job,
and a good person.
The way you had my back
at the toy factory?
No one's ever done that for me.
Not my Mom, Dad, siblings,
or dentist, who's also my uncle.
Thank you, Candy,
for believing in me.
Brent:
Candy, it's Brent.
I believe in you.
But I also believe
in the power of meth.
Candy! Finally!
Pony is ready.
Now after
the glitter bombs,
Devin and I will
wheel out the swag--
The plan's changed.
I don't need
to throw glitter bombs,
or ride in on some
dumb mini pony.
I happen to have
a PhD, Madam!
-But Brent always--
-Brent was Brent,
and I am me.
Donate all
the swag bags to
the Home for Retired
Elf Coal Miners.
I need to do
this my way.
-(audience cheering)
-Woo!
Everyone!
Welcome to our esteemed
Board Members of Santa Inc.,
to Santa Claus,
members of the press,
and special guests,
and a spy from President's Day!
Security, please remove him.
I am Candy Smalls,
and this is the annual
State of the Workshop.
Now I wanted a chance to talk
about the future of Santa Inc.,
and the changes
that need to be made.
It was Santa Claus
the Fifth who wrote,
"Do one thing every day
that scares you."
I couldn't agree more
because change is hard,
but we can do it
in an honest
and efficient way
Our reindeer are
strong and capable.
With the help
of auto-reindeer
on the sleigh,
and the use
of B-Team alternates
to prevent burnout,
I am confident we can achieve
record times every year.
One day, one day, one day--
(softly):
Uh, fuck.
Excuse me one minute.
What the fuck?
Fuck me!
The Board is bored.
This is a nightmare.
We need to perk them
up and fast, but how?
(gasps)
Hey, let's give everyone
a little piece
of the Christmas Spirit bars,
just a tiny piece.
Yeah, it'll perk
them up because
I-- because it's, it's sugar!
All right, good talk.
Okay, some more ideas
to achieve maximum efficiency.
Dismantle the naughty
versus nice system.
Coal is heavy, and makes
the sleigh go .7% slower.
One of the many benefits
from the coal mine shutdown
can be used on a more
comprehensive health insurance
which will create
happier workers,
and we all know
happier workers
are faster workers.
Healthy efficiency, people.
It's possible.
Just give us our
free shit already, toots!
Me likey swag!
Oh, no swag bags this year.
They're too crass
and materialistic.
(shouts):
So is Christmas,
you asshole!
Boring!
Board Member:
Shut your lady face!
Jeremy:
Everyone, look up here!
She needs a diversion.
Jeremy to the rescue!
Float, float, float.
Somebody has a gun!
(all shouting)
That did not go as planned.
(car alarm blaring)
-Ah!
-(commotion)
(neighing)
Jesus! This is
a fucking coup!
Why didn't you just
follow Brent's playbook?
Seriously? Seriously?
This was your shot
to impress the Board,
and you fuckin' blew it.
I am not Brent,
and if you want to
know the truth Santa,
Brent wasn't
Brent Brent wasn't--
He wasn't what?!
Speak!
-Honestly, you bored
the fuck out of everyone.
-Ahh!
I thought you had
the entertainer bug in you.
It doesn't matter.
It's so key
to being a Successor,
and you don't have it.
Ugh, well then maybe
you should witness
my karaoke skills, bitch!
I'm sorry.
I just think there
needs to be
some changes
around here.
Like now.
Don't talk to me
about change.
I chose the first
Black Successor.
Capital "B."
Now that was some change
you can fuckin' believe in.
Well done, Candy.
I always thought
Brent's addresses
were more like
trips to the circus.
While yours was like
a Holocaust documentary.
You had my heart
and my head.
That was exactly
what I was going for.
I feel like you get me,
like if you wanted to get--
I would love to get
coffee with you,
or just pick your brain.
(blows raspberry)
All right, that's it.
Let's go.
Jingle Jim:
I'm gonna melt ya down,
drink ya like a shot of vodka,
and piss you into the gutter!
Cookie:
There you are.
Ugh, I fucking blew it, Cookie.
-Now what am I gonna do?
-Cookie: The obvious.
Get black-out drunk,
and show the world what
you're really made of.
Candy:
Every storm
runs out of rain ♪
Just like every life
is not all pain ♪
So try to burn me
with deceit and lies ♪
Because in the end,
like a phoenix ♪
I'll rise ♪
(cheers and applause)
♪
Every storm
runs out of rain ♪
Just like every life
is not all pain ♪
So try to burn me
with deceit and lies ♪
'Cause in the end ♪
Like a phoenix ♪
I'll rise ♪
In the end ♪
Like a phoenix ♪
I'll rise ♪