Strip Law (2026) s01e02 Episode Script
Episode 2
1
Well, none of this makes any sense.
Ah. That's better.
Now everyone understands what's happening.
Anything to add, Mr. Milk?
This motion is basically a formality
at this point.
My client, Mr. Kringle,
has filed all necessary paperwork
and notarized it with fingerprints
that even look like snowflakes, kind of.
Ho ho ho, Your Honor.
Indeed.
Well, if there are no further objections,
I hereby grant exclusive Santa Claus
jurisdiction in the state of Nevada
to this man, Kristopher Kross Kringle,
and declare him the one,
true, and only Santa Clau
I object.
Ho ho who?
Lincoln Gumb, Your Frankenhonor.
My client, Harry Crimmons,
is the real Santa Claus,
and he has the right
to have his challenge heard.
Mr. Crimmons.
Do you have any evidence
to back up your claim?
I drove here in a red car!
Good enough!
This court shall determine
which of these men
is the real Santa Claus.
Oh, and of course…
Happy Halloween!
Halloween is
Just around the corner ♪
Everyone is hangin' up their bats ♪
I love Halloween.
It's the one night of the year
I can give candy to kids,
and no one bats an eye.
What?
I like kids,
and I think they should have candy.
Why does everyone assume
the worst about me
just because of how I look and act?
I'm gonna make you beautiful, sweetheart.
So, Irene, got any big
trick-or-treating plans?
Nah, I'm too grown up for that now.
But I have picked out my costume
for sneakin' out
and throwin' rocks at cars.
DHL delivery person.
Everyone loves DHL
because it's usually
something actually good, like from Europe.
I always have trouble comin' up
with a costume worthy of me.
I was thinkin' maybe God,
but then I landed
on God's hot teenage girlfriend, Morgan.
Anyway, I'm glad someone's having fun.
Your uncle's been a real work hole lately.
You mean workaholic?
No.
Are you done yet? We've got
a big-shot client arriving any second.
Is there coffee? Do we have a vacuum?
Screw it. I'll do it with my hands.
Whoa, Lincoln, we just won a case.
We've earned a little break. I know!
Let's go to Thailand for eight months.
Come on! Believe in yourself enough
not to be so desperate.
Believing in yourself is for mass shooters
and Judd Apatow's kids.
I live in the real world,
where things only work out
if we work them out.
Should these skeletons be wearing ties?
I'm just saying,
you don't have to represent
every maniac who shows up at the door.
Maniac at the door.
Is this Gumb Legal?
I have a man to destroy.
The real Kris Kringle.
I heard about this guy.
Found a loophole to get himself
legally declared Santa Claus in New York.
Now he travels from state to state
doing the same thing.
But not here!
I was born and raised in Vegas.
I worked hard to make my fortune here
by finding it in the desert.
If anyone's gonna be our Santa,
it should be me.
Which is where you come in.
Well, Mr. Crimmons…
Harry. Harry Crimmons.
It sounds like "Merry Christmas,"
but not too much.
Well, this'll be a real fight.
Kringle's attorney is
what we in the legal profession call
a "double threat."
An aggressive lawyer and tall.
Need legal assistance?
Hire me, Mike Milk, the tall lawyer.
I fight for the little guy because,
to me, all guys are little.
I'm here when justice is out of reach.
My last lawyer was 5'11",
and yeah, he won my workman's comp case,
but when I saw him next to Mike,
I threw up and fired him.
He's so tall!
So call Mike Milk, the tall lawyer.
Call one-tall-hundred ♪
That's one-tall-hundred. T-A-L-L.
T-A-L-L ♪
See you soon, Harry.
Thank you, Lincoln.
You're a very good boy.
Ha ha. Just like Santa would say.
Yes. Santa.
Lincoln, now, I'm not one
to judge a good dirt bag.
I've had more gold rings
fall outta me than Sonic the Hedgehog.
But are you sure you wanna help this guy
become our Santa Claus?
Why? Just because of how
he looks and acts?
Thank you!
Plus, he's secretly loaded,
and we need money.
So one old guy gets a ceremonial title
instead of another old guy,
and we get paid.
But how do we figure out
what makes someone legally Santa?
Christmas movie marathon!
My mom has them all on DVD.
Santa Has Fallen,
How the Shrimp Stole Shrimpmas,
White Chicks 2,
White Chicksmas, even Die Hard.
Wow! Yeah! Die Hard is a Christmas movie.
I've never thought about that before.
-I am so proud of you.
-Well done.
Well, it's 115 degrees out,
so I put marshmallows in gin.
Ah, truly is a wonderful life.
Almost as wonderful as war bonds.
Buy war bonds, everyone!
-Which one next?
-Ooh!
-What about Single and Ready to Jingle?
-Mmm… nah, that one's a bummer.
Everyone knows the real Santa
would never divorce Mrs. Claus
and hit the dating scene.
Not when she puts up
with all his traveling.
Good one, Irene. "The real Santa."
Totally.
Wait, what?
Wait, what? Did you not…
I mean, I just assumed.
Irene, you do know about Santa, right?
You're, like, 13 to 19 years old.
You told me my real dentist
probably wouldn't be asking
for money on Cash App.
What?
Shut up! Course I know about Santa.
I know everything adults know,
like… Boingo hotspots.
Hey, we all believe stupid stuff
when we're younger.
Hell, I believed in King Kong
until I joined the army.
Irene, I… I guess your mom thought
you were too smart to need this talk,
but Santa is just a story
parents tell their kids
in order to relive their own childhoods.
Because in the adult world,
no one gives you anything,
so you have to work for every
disheveled lunatic who will hire you
until you finally get to collapse
into your early grave.
Wow, so inspiring. Merry Christmas.
Okay, that's enough TV.
Glem, Sheila, that jury
is gonna eat Kringle up.
I need you guys to come up
with some Christmas magic for our side.
You got it.
So, Santa sees everything, right?
What if we have him describe
the first time Hitler masturbated?
Not that, but also, nothing like that.
Irene, dig up any dirt on Kringle
you can find. Nobody is that perfect.
Mm-hmm. Sure!
I mean, it'd be stupid to believe
this world had any magic in it,
so I'll just go destroy what's left.
Sounds good. I'll pick up Crimmons.
We've got a hearing to disrupt.
Recordable doorbell, take one.
Shit, the old doorbell messed up
the recordin' for the new doorbell.
I am gonna kill whoever's out there.
-I'm gonna kill whoever's out here.
-Whoa!
Oh, Mr. Gumb, come in.
I was just making coffee.
Sorry about the mess.
Those damned lazy elves.
Right.
Mr. Crimmons, we should get going.
Kringle's motion is scheduled
for this morning.
Nonsense. There's always time
for a tour of Santa's workshop.
These are my daughters.
Shush, Emily!
Sorry, they just won't stop laughing.
Eh…
Traps must be full.
I know you're supposed to eat the eggs
before they get outta hand,
but who needs all those erections?
Ha-ha. Yeah. Look, Mr. Crimmons,
if we wanna win this case,
you're gonna have to be able to make a
halfway unterrifying impression on people.
Well, that should be easy
for the real Santa Claus.
Oh, I'm sorry.
Do you not believe in Santa
and, by extension, not want
the money he's offering you?
What? Of course I do.
"He does exist," like the M&M said.
Santa can smell lies, child.
By the time this is over, you'll believe.
You'll all believe.
After all, if I wasn't Santa,
how could I go up this chimney?
Look! Red car, Lincoln! Like Santa!
Red!
This court shall determine which
of these men is the real Santa Claus.
Woo-hoo!
Wait until I tell my brother, the devil.
-Hello?
-Ooh, hey, there.
This is Makayla's mom
over at Kid Rock Elementary.
Don'tcha know it? Makayla forgot
the dang homework assignment.
Can I talk to Jeffrey
for a Michigan minute?
Drop the con, sister.
Makayla never forgot
a homework assignment in her life.
-Who are you?
-Irene.
Need the skinny on a fat man.
Goes by Kringle.
Kringle.
There's a name
I never wanted to hear again.
You testified for him in Michigan.
Sat on his lap, called him Santa.
I wanna know what it cost.
Him or me?
The old man needed a kid
to convince the jury he was Santa.
Told me he'd bring me
the gift I've always wanted.
Santa can make any toy, right?
I wanted a custom video game
where my dead dog Brambles
eats my stepdad.
Christmas comes around,
and what's waitin' for me under the tree?
Rupert Grint's Fractions Dungeon!
An educational game!
That's when I realized I'd been had.
There is no Santa.
Only a stupid baby would think otherwise.
Oh, I see. Just hit the last stop
on the Polar Express, huh?
Why do adults lie and call it love?
Why does Rupert Grint murder fractions?
Who can say?
Just watch your back, kid.
Jesus Christ!
What the fuck are you doing?
We're making a reindeer fly.
You wanted Christmas magic, dumb-ass!
This is somehow worse
than the Hitler idea.
Irene, please tell me
you have some good news.
Well, Kringle lied to a kid in Michigan
to secure his testimony.
-That's great.
-But other than that, he's squeaky clean.
He's even the face of Christmas Cola,
the only year-round Christmas-themed soda.
Irene, did you sleep?
You look like me when I make
my own Dimetapp out of expired Dimetapp.
My brain won't stop going.
What else do I believe
that isn't true, huh? Huh?
Can doves not actually cry?
Are porn stars not really
in love with each other?
Was JFK not assassinated by Patton Oswalt?
Oh, honey. Everyone knows
it was Steve Harvey Oswald.
What about you, Lincoln?
What's Harry's deal?
Uh… he's great, too.
Also donates children to hospitals.
Uh, keep digging. There must be something.
Is thunder not God bowling?
Did David Bowie not really
go live on a farm upstate?
Is Zendaya even Meechee?
Ladies and gentlemen,
what makes a name legal?
Some people go by Jim,
but are secretly named James.
All that matters is that a name
be recognized by the U.S. government.
Bring 'em in, boys.
Each addressed to Santa Claus.
Therefore, the post office,
a branch of the federal government,
recognizes this man, Kris Kringle,
to be the one and only Santa Claus.
Well, I'm convinced.
Mr. Gumb, your opening arguments.
I wanna tell you the story
of another man. A man named Glem.
Yello!
Glem recently received this mug,
reading, "World's Greatest Grandpa."
Glem, are you
the world's greatest grandpa?
-Nope.
-You see, ladies and gentlemen?
Just because something is written down,
doesn't make it true.
Objection. Relevance.
Anyone can buy a mug.
Except that Glem received
this particular mug
during his time in federal prison,
also hand-delivered by a federal employee.
Glem, what were you in for?
I auctioned off my grandson's diary
to foreign perverts.
Do these sound like the actions
of the world's greatest grandpa?
Delivery
for Monsieur Kris Kringle.
I think Denver's gonna
go all the way this year.
Unless they're bums,
then Baltimore will go all the way.
Hey, delivery person,
what are your sports opinions?
Sorry, I don't watch
mainstream sports because of the politics.
Now that's an adult opinion.
Insider trading? Illegitimate kids?
A… a picture where he's eating
Chinese food at a movie theater
while holding a calendar
that says December 25th?
This is exactly the kind of dirt
Uncle Lincoln needs.
To destroy the magic of Santa
for kids everywhere.
Hey, wait a minute!
Sports have always been
inherently political.
Uh, Boo Suede Shoes!
Thank boo. Thank boo very much.
Another round
for my best customers…
…who I love so much.
Thanks, Mr. O'Raviolio.
All right, guys,
the trial started off well,
but we really lost some ground
in testimony.
The best part about being Santa
is bringing joy to children
all over the world.
The best part about being Santa
is turning into an owl
so I can watch married women fold laundry.
Okay, but have you seen
a married woman fold laundry?
I know that's right.
Uh, Sheila, we could really use
some magic here.
-Do you have anything?
-I know.
You know how there's lots
of suicides on Christmas? Maybe, uh…
Mm. Look, Lincoln, I'm trying my best.
Christmas magic is
just too wholesome for me.
Yep, I think I'm gonna bail on this
bein' the thing I'm doin' this week.
-What the hell, Sheila?
-Sorry.
Hey, Glem, wanna go play Halloween pranks
on Steve Nichols?
Do I? Prankin's my middle name.
Actually, Prankin, which is German
for "God has forsaken this child."
Great. Glem and Sheila
are off doing pranks,
my investigator still believes in Santa,
and I'm on my own, again.
Can I have one employee
who doesn't need babysitting?
You want grown-ups? Fine.
Irene, are you even allowed to be in here?
Oh! Why? Because I'm a naive kid, right?
Well, I guess you don't need
this naive kid's evidence.
Starting now, I'm 100% adult.
I'm gonna read free articles
in the incognito window,
listen to cutesy murder podcasts,
and use GIFs when I text.
Irene, no!
Santa,
how did you get into the science lab
here at Boston Public?
Wow, I am really scraping
the bottom of the barrel here.
Ho ho! Why, through the famous
Boston Public chimney, of course!
That's it. The general area.
That's the story of
the first time Adolf Hitler masturbated.
No more questions, Your Honor.
Okay, Harry,
I know this case has been bumpy.
-How so?
-But I've got a plan. Watch.
Your Honor, I call for a Santa-off.
Yeah, good idea.
Oh, that's probably what
we should've done to begin with.
I'll allow it.
'Twas the night before Christmas
When all through the castle ♪
My monsters were having
A Yuletide hassle ♪
The tree was all trimmed
In ghoulish things ♪
Like werewolf fangs and vampire wings… ♪
It was a monsters' holiday… ♪
-Happy Halloween!
-They were up to no good ♪
-It was a monsters' holiday ♪
-Didn't act like good monsters should ♪
-It was a monsters' holiday ♪
-They found themselves a new prey ♪
-It was a monsters' holiday ♪
-They planned to rob Santa's sleigh ♪
They were making a li ♪
What are you guys doing up there?
Lunch ended an hour ago.
Everyone's waiting for you
at the Santa-off.
-Monsters' holiday ♪
-They were up to no good… ♪
-Whoa!
-It was a monsters' holiday ♪
Didn't act like good monsters should… ♪
It was a monsters' holiday ♪
They found themselves a new prey… ♪
-It was a monsters' holiday ♪
-They planned to rob Santa's sleigh ♪
-The mummy was to signal ♪
-Ooh ♪
-From the castle roof ♪
-Jumping jingle wolf ♪
The very first sound of a ♪
Is it me, or are we
the best pranksters on Earth?
Hmm, right? But prank in' Steve
is like shootin' fish in a barrel.
I stopped goin' to that place
a week after it opened.
I know what you mean. It's almost like
it's not even worth pranking.
Unless you prank the very best.
We tied the Santa-off.
It all comes down to closing arguments.
I've got one last chance
to save the case, my credibility,
and whatever's left of Irene's childhood.
Yeah, we were supposed to get away
to Orlando one of these weekends,
but you know Dennis.
He has to watch his rugby!
One sec.
Why is my childhood crush calling me?
Isaiah Dandridge from homeroom
Ow! Ah!
Ha! You fell for the old
"spring-loaded blade in the cell phone
"and also childhood crush
not actually calling" trick.
All right. Not bad, Glem.
Say, you haven't touched your drink.
Maybe I'll get a fresh one.
Ha-ha! $3,000 ejector seat prank,
you rube! That drink was a red herrin'.
Yup. Puffer-fish toxin.
Gazpacho for two, Mr. President.
Huh.
Mind if I join you?
Mr. Kringle? I… I don't think
we're supposed to be talking.
Yes.
Bit naughty of me, isn't it?
I won't tell if you don't.
Quite a show you put on today.
Why are you wasting your talents
defending that syphilitic burnout?
Look, dude, some lawyers
get to pick their clients.
I gotta work
for whichever Santa will have me.
Ho ho ho! Is that all?
-Well, anyone could be your client.
-What are you saying?
You don't really believe
in yourself, do you?
All the hustling, the ambulance chasing,
wondering if each job might be your last.
Christmas Cola's looking
for new in-house counsel.
High six figures, corner office.
All you have to do is the right thing.
Are you trying to bribe me
into throwing the case?
I've shown you how the world works.
There was no Santa until I made him real!
Me. That's power.
And that power can be a gift, Lincoln,
to little boys who behave.
Wow. Big ol' wow.
Everything I told Irene
about the shittiness of the adult world
is because of guys like you.
This city's kids deserve a better Santa.
Irene deserves better.
-I don't know the people in your life.
-You sound just like Sheila.
You know, Crimmons might be nuts,
but at least he actually believes
in something.
And so do I.
That I'm gonna kick your ass
in court tomorrow.
Merry Christmas, asshole.
It's October 30th.
Well, then, happy Halloween, good sir.
I feel like a new man, Harry.
Did three ghosts visit you, too?
No, but I'm ready to give
a passionate closing argument
that will win over that jury
and make you Santa.
Great! Love your energy.
Except instead, I'm gonna give
my own closin' argument.
What? But…
But we'll lose. I'll lose.
Irene will fully commit to this boring
millennial-adult shtick she's doing.
Lincoln, you took this case
because you didn't believe
in yourself or Santa.
But you kept goin' because, deep down
you knew there is magic in this world,
and that's worth fighting for.
All I'm askin' for is one more leap.
For anyone in this courtroom
who still doesn't believe,
Mr. Crimmons, I mean, Santa Claus,
will give his own closing statement.
I owe Your Honor an apology.
There was a gift you wanted, wasn't there?
Something very special.
One Christmas, you looked under the tree,
and it wasn't there.
You haven't believed in me since.
Well, I was rummagin' through my workshop,
and I found somethin' I'd like to give you
before you make your decision.
Something I should've given you
all those Christmases ago.
Oh! It can't be!
It's impossible, yet here it is!
The very gift I always wanted.
$30,000!
What?
And if the jurors will please look
under their chairs,
I believe they'll find some gifts as well.
Sorry they're a little late.
$25,000!
$18,000.
$40,000?
Oh, Santa, you really did get my letter.
You really, truly did.
Your Honor, only the real Santa
could know the gifts
that all these people secretly wanted.
Agreed. Jury, you agree. Great.
This court rules in favor of Mr. Crimmons,
Nevada's one and only Santa Claus.
We object. This is open bribery.
Oh, spoken like a true Scrooge.
Mr. Kringle, you are dismissed.
Hello, everybody. Okay, okay, calm down!
Well, today, I, George Wallace,
mayor of Las Vegas,
I grant Harry Crimmons,
aka Santa Claus, the key to the city.
This, of course, represents a smaller,
real key to the city.
The real key to the city
Harry, in his duties as Santa Claus,
can use to enter
any of our houses at any time!
I'm gonna get real weird with it, too.
Vegas Santa says
give Daddy a bowl of your teeth!
A-woo-woo-woo!
Huh. Didn't know
I was helping with that part.
Sorry, Irene. There's nothing stupid
about believing in things.
I know. In fact, you proved Santa is real,
and he's a freak.
The world is full of magic,
just in a gross and off-putting way.
Welcome to being a grown-up.
Hey, Kris, for what it's worth,
you really do look just like Santa.
Fuck you, Lincoln Gumb. I am Santa.
Nevada can kiss my bowl-full-of-jelly ass!
Hyah!
Goodbye, Santa!
Goodbye, Lord Kong!
Hey, what's wrong with Glem?
Oh, h-e's up to his tits on peyote.
What about that dude? Is he okay?
Probably not.
Anyway, now to drop Glem off
at Vegas's scariest haunted house.
Happy Halloween
from the Bride of Prankenstein!
Oh yeah, it's Halloween.
Pretty unsatisfying how I've been focusing
on Christmas all week.
Oh well!
-Trick or treat!
-Sorry, I don't have any candy.
Glem Blorchman sends his regards!
They were up to no good ♪
Didn't act like good monsters should ♪
They found themselves a new… ♪
Chirp.
Well, none of this makes any sense.
Ah. That's better.
Now everyone understands what's happening.
Anything to add, Mr. Milk?
This motion is basically a formality
at this point.
My client, Mr. Kringle,
has filed all necessary paperwork
and notarized it with fingerprints
that even look like snowflakes, kind of.
Ho ho ho, Your Honor.
Indeed.
Well, if there are no further objections,
I hereby grant exclusive Santa Claus
jurisdiction in the state of Nevada
to this man, Kristopher Kross Kringle,
and declare him the one,
true, and only Santa Clau
I object.
Ho ho who?
Lincoln Gumb, Your Frankenhonor.
My client, Harry Crimmons,
is the real Santa Claus,
and he has the right
to have his challenge heard.
Mr. Crimmons.
Do you have any evidence
to back up your claim?
I drove here in a red car!
Good enough!
This court shall determine
which of these men
is the real Santa Claus.
Oh, and of course…
Happy Halloween!
Halloween is
Just around the corner ♪
Everyone is hangin' up their bats ♪
I love Halloween.
It's the one night of the year
I can give candy to kids,
and no one bats an eye.
What?
I like kids,
and I think they should have candy.
Why does everyone assume
the worst about me
just because of how I look and act?
I'm gonna make you beautiful, sweetheart.
So, Irene, got any big
trick-or-treating plans?
Nah, I'm too grown up for that now.
But I have picked out my costume
for sneakin' out
and throwin' rocks at cars.
DHL delivery person.
Everyone loves DHL
because it's usually
something actually good, like from Europe.
I always have trouble comin' up
with a costume worthy of me.
I was thinkin' maybe God,
but then I landed
on God's hot teenage girlfriend, Morgan.
Anyway, I'm glad someone's having fun.
Your uncle's been a real work hole lately.
You mean workaholic?
No.
Are you done yet? We've got
a big-shot client arriving any second.
Is there coffee? Do we have a vacuum?
Screw it. I'll do it with my hands.
Whoa, Lincoln, we just won a case.
We've earned a little break. I know!
Let's go to Thailand for eight months.
Come on! Believe in yourself enough
not to be so desperate.
Believing in yourself is for mass shooters
and Judd Apatow's kids.
I live in the real world,
where things only work out
if we work them out.
Should these skeletons be wearing ties?
I'm just saying,
you don't have to represent
every maniac who shows up at the door.
Maniac at the door.
Is this Gumb Legal?
I have a man to destroy.
The real Kris Kringle.
I heard about this guy.
Found a loophole to get himself
legally declared Santa Claus in New York.
Now he travels from state to state
doing the same thing.
But not here!
I was born and raised in Vegas.
I worked hard to make my fortune here
by finding it in the desert.
If anyone's gonna be our Santa,
it should be me.
Which is where you come in.
Well, Mr. Crimmons…
Harry. Harry Crimmons.
It sounds like "Merry Christmas,"
but not too much.
Well, this'll be a real fight.
Kringle's attorney is
what we in the legal profession call
a "double threat."
An aggressive lawyer and tall.
Need legal assistance?
Hire me, Mike Milk, the tall lawyer.
I fight for the little guy because,
to me, all guys are little.
I'm here when justice is out of reach.
My last lawyer was 5'11",
and yeah, he won my workman's comp case,
but when I saw him next to Mike,
I threw up and fired him.
He's so tall!
So call Mike Milk, the tall lawyer.
Call one-tall-hundred ♪
That's one-tall-hundred. T-A-L-L.
T-A-L-L ♪
See you soon, Harry.
Thank you, Lincoln.
You're a very good boy.
Ha ha. Just like Santa would say.
Yes. Santa.
Lincoln, now, I'm not one
to judge a good dirt bag.
I've had more gold rings
fall outta me than Sonic the Hedgehog.
But are you sure you wanna help this guy
become our Santa Claus?
Why? Just because of how
he looks and acts?
Thank you!
Plus, he's secretly loaded,
and we need money.
So one old guy gets a ceremonial title
instead of another old guy,
and we get paid.
But how do we figure out
what makes someone legally Santa?
Christmas movie marathon!
My mom has them all on DVD.
Santa Has Fallen,
How the Shrimp Stole Shrimpmas,
White Chicks 2,
White Chicksmas, even Die Hard.
Wow! Yeah! Die Hard is a Christmas movie.
I've never thought about that before.
-I am so proud of you.
-Well done.
Well, it's 115 degrees out,
so I put marshmallows in gin.
Ah, truly is a wonderful life.
Almost as wonderful as war bonds.
Buy war bonds, everyone!
-Which one next?
-Ooh!
-What about Single and Ready to Jingle?
-Mmm… nah, that one's a bummer.
Everyone knows the real Santa
would never divorce Mrs. Claus
and hit the dating scene.
Not when she puts up
with all his traveling.
Good one, Irene. "The real Santa."
Totally.
Wait, what?
Wait, what? Did you not…
I mean, I just assumed.
Irene, you do know about Santa, right?
You're, like, 13 to 19 years old.
You told me my real dentist
probably wouldn't be asking
for money on Cash App.
What?
Shut up! Course I know about Santa.
I know everything adults know,
like… Boingo hotspots.
Hey, we all believe stupid stuff
when we're younger.
Hell, I believed in King Kong
until I joined the army.
Irene, I… I guess your mom thought
you were too smart to need this talk,
but Santa is just a story
parents tell their kids
in order to relive their own childhoods.
Because in the adult world,
no one gives you anything,
so you have to work for every
disheveled lunatic who will hire you
until you finally get to collapse
into your early grave.
Wow, so inspiring. Merry Christmas.
Okay, that's enough TV.
Glem, Sheila, that jury
is gonna eat Kringle up.
I need you guys to come up
with some Christmas magic for our side.
You got it.
So, Santa sees everything, right?
What if we have him describe
the first time Hitler masturbated?
Not that, but also, nothing like that.
Irene, dig up any dirt on Kringle
you can find. Nobody is that perfect.
Mm-hmm. Sure!
I mean, it'd be stupid to believe
this world had any magic in it,
so I'll just go destroy what's left.
Sounds good. I'll pick up Crimmons.
We've got a hearing to disrupt.
Recordable doorbell, take one.
Shit, the old doorbell messed up
the recordin' for the new doorbell.
I am gonna kill whoever's out there.
-I'm gonna kill whoever's out here.
-Whoa!
Oh, Mr. Gumb, come in.
I was just making coffee.
Sorry about the mess.
Those damned lazy elves.
Right.
Mr. Crimmons, we should get going.
Kringle's motion is scheduled
for this morning.
Nonsense. There's always time
for a tour of Santa's workshop.
These are my daughters.
Shush, Emily!
Sorry, they just won't stop laughing.
Eh…
Traps must be full.
I know you're supposed to eat the eggs
before they get outta hand,
but who needs all those erections?
Ha-ha. Yeah. Look, Mr. Crimmons,
if we wanna win this case,
you're gonna have to be able to make a
halfway unterrifying impression on people.
Well, that should be easy
for the real Santa Claus.
Oh, I'm sorry.
Do you not believe in Santa
and, by extension, not want
the money he's offering you?
What? Of course I do.
"He does exist," like the M&M said.
Santa can smell lies, child.
By the time this is over, you'll believe.
You'll all believe.
After all, if I wasn't Santa,
how could I go up this chimney?
Look! Red car, Lincoln! Like Santa!
Red!
This court shall determine which
of these men is the real Santa Claus.
Woo-hoo!
Wait until I tell my brother, the devil.
-Hello?
-Ooh, hey, there.
This is Makayla's mom
over at Kid Rock Elementary.
Don'tcha know it? Makayla forgot
the dang homework assignment.
Can I talk to Jeffrey
for a Michigan minute?
Drop the con, sister.
Makayla never forgot
a homework assignment in her life.
-Who are you?
-Irene.
Need the skinny on a fat man.
Goes by Kringle.
Kringle.
There's a name
I never wanted to hear again.
You testified for him in Michigan.
Sat on his lap, called him Santa.
I wanna know what it cost.
Him or me?
The old man needed a kid
to convince the jury he was Santa.
Told me he'd bring me
the gift I've always wanted.
Santa can make any toy, right?
I wanted a custom video game
where my dead dog Brambles
eats my stepdad.
Christmas comes around,
and what's waitin' for me under the tree?
Rupert Grint's Fractions Dungeon!
An educational game!
That's when I realized I'd been had.
There is no Santa.
Only a stupid baby would think otherwise.
Oh, I see. Just hit the last stop
on the Polar Express, huh?
Why do adults lie and call it love?
Why does Rupert Grint murder fractions?
Who can say?
Just watch your back, kid.
Jesus Christ!
What the fuck are you doing?
We're making a reindeer fly.
You wanted Christmas magic, dumb-ass!
This is somehow worse
than the Hitler idea.
Irene, please tell me
you have some good news.
Well, Kringle lied to a kid in Michigan
to secure his testimony.
-That's great.
-But other than that, he's squeaky clean.
He's even the face of Christmas Cola,
the only year-round Christmas-themed soda.
Irene, did you sleep?
You look like me when I make
my own Dimetapp out of expired Dimetapp.
My brain won't stop going.
What else do I believe
that isn't true, huh? Huh?
Can doves not actually cry?
Are porn stars not really
in love with each other?
Was JFK not assassinated by Patton Oswalt?
Oh, honey. Everyone knows
it was Steve Harvey Oswald.
What about you, Lincoln?
What's Harry's deal?
Uh… he's great, too.
Also donates children to hospitals.
Uh, keep digging. There must be something.
Is thunder not God bowling?
Did David Bowie not really
go live on a farm upstate?
Is Zendaya even Meechee?
Ladies and gentlemen,
what makes a name legal?
Some people go by Jim,
but are secretly named James.
All that matters is that a name
be recognized by the U.S. government.
Bring 'em in, boys.
Each addressed to Santa Claus.
Therefore, the post office,
a branch of the federal government,
recognizes this man, Kris Kringle,
to be the one and only Santa Claus.
Well, I'm convinced.
Mr. Gumb, your opening arguments.
I wanna tell you the story
of another man. A man named Glem.
Yello!
Glem recently received this mug,
reading, "World's Greatest Grandpa."
Glem, are you
the world's greatest grandpa?
-Nope.
-You see, ladies and gentlemen?
Just because something is written down,
doesn't make it true.
Objection. Relevance.
Anyone can buy a mug.
Except that Glem received
this particular mug
during his time in federal prison,
also hand-delivered by a federal employee.
Glem, what were you in for?
I auctioned off my grandson's diary
to foreign perverts.
Do these sound like the actions
of the world's greatest grandpa?
Delivery
for Monsieur Kris Kringle.
I think Denver's gonna
go all the way this year.
Unless they're bums,
then Baltimore will go all the way.
Hey, delivery person,
what are your sports opinions?
Sorry, I don't watch
mainstream sports because of the politics.
Now that's an adult opinion.
Insider trading? Illegitimate kids?
A… a picture where he's eating
Chinese food at a movie theater
while holding a calendar
that says December 25th?
This is exactly the kind of dirt
Uncle Lincoln needs.
To destroy the magic of Santa
for kids everywhere.
Hey, wait a minute!
Sports have always been
inherently political.
Uh, Boo Suede Shoes!
Thank boo. Thank boo very much.
Another round
for my best customers…
…who I love so much.
Thanks, Mr. O'Raviolio.
All right, guys,
the trial started off well,
but we really lost some ground
in testimony.
The best part about being Santa
is bringing joy to children
all over the world.
The best part about being Santa
is turning into an owl
so I can watch married women fold laundry.
Okay, but have you seen
a married woman fold laundry?
I know that's right.
Uh, Sheila, we could really use
some magic here.
-Do you have anything?
-I know.
You know how there's lots
of suicides on Christmas? Maybe, uh…
Mm. Look, Lincoln, I'm trying my best.
Christmas magic is
just too wholesome for me.
Yep, I think I'm gonna bail on this
bein' the thing I'm doin' this week.
-What the hell, Sheila?
-Sorry.
Hey, Glem, wanna go play Halloween pranks
on Steve Nichols?
Do I? Prankin's my middle name.
Actually, Prankin, which is German
for "God has forsaken this child."
Great. Glem and Sheila
are off doing pranks,
my investigator still believes in Santa,
and I'm on my own, again.
Can I have one employee
who doesn't need babysitting?
You want grown-ups? Fine.
Irene, are you even allowed to be in here?
Oh! Why? Because I'm a naive kid, right?
Well, I guess you don't need
this naive kid's evidence.
Starting now, I'm 100% adult.
I'm gonna read free articles
in the incognito window,
listen to cutesy murder podcasts,
and use GIFs when I text.
Irene, no!
Santa,
how did you get into the science lab
here at Boston Public?
Wow, I am really scraping
the bottom of the barrel here.
Ho ho! Why, through the famous
Boston Public chimney, of course!
That's it. The general area.
That's the story of
the first time Adolf Hitler masturbated.
No more questions, Your Honor.
Okay, Harry,
I know this case has been bumpy.
-How so?
-But I've got a plan. Watch.
Your Honor, I call for a Santa-off.
Yeah, good idea.
Oh, that's probably what
we should've done to begin with.
I'll allow it.
'Twas the night before Christmas
When all through the castle ♪
My monsters were having
A Yuletide hassle ♪
The tree was all trimmed
In ghoulish things ♪
Like werewolf fangs and vampire wings… ♪
It was a monsters' holiday… ♪
-Happy Halloween!
-They were up to no good ♪
-It was a monsters' holiday ♪
-Didn't act like good monsters should ♪
-It was a monsters' holiday ♪
-They found themselves a new prey ♪
-It was a monsters' holiday ♪
-They planned to rob Santa's sleigh ♪
They were making a li ♪
What are you guys doing up there?
Lunch ended an hour ago.
Everyone's waiting for you
at the Santa-off.
-Monsters' holiday ♪
-They were up to no good… ♪
-Whoa!
-It was a monsters' holiday ♪
Didn't act like good monsters should… ♪
It was a monsters' holiday ♪
They found themselves a new prey… ♪
-It was a monsters' holiday ♪
-They planned to rob Santa's sleigh ♪
-The mummy was to signal ♪
-Ooh ♪
-From the castle roof ♪
-Jumping jingle wolf ♪
The very first sound of a ♪
Is it me, or are we
the best pranksters on Earth?
Hmm, right? But prank in' Steve
is like shootin' fish in a barrel.
I stopped goin' to that place
a week after it opened.
I know what you mean. It's almost like
it's not even worth pranking.
Unless you prank the very best.
We tied the Santa-off.
It all comes down to closing arguments.
I've got one last chance
to save the case, my credibility,
and whatever's left of Irene's childhood.
Yeah, we were supposed to get away
to Orlando one of these weekends,
but you know Dennis.
He has to watch his rugby!
One sec.
Why is my childhood crush calling me?
Isaiah Dandridge from homeroom
Ow! Ah!
Ha! You fell for the old
"spring-loaded blade in the cell phone
"and also childhood crush
not actually calling" trick.
All right. Not bad, Glem.
Say, you haven't touched your drink.
Maybe I'll get a fresh one.
Ha-ha! $3,000 ejector seat prank,
you rube! That drink was a red herrin'.
Yup. Puffer-fish toxin.
Gazpacho for two, Mr. President.
Huh.
Mind if I join you?
Mr. Kringle? I… I don't think
we're supposed to be talking.
Yes.
Bit naughty of me, isn't it?
I won't tell if you don't.
Quite a show you put on today.
Why are you wasting your talents
defending that syphilitic burnout?
Look, dude, some lawyers
get to pick their clients.
I gotta work
for whichever Santa will have me.
Ho ho ho! Is that all?
-Well, anyone could be your client.
-What are you saying?
You don't really believe
in yourself, do you?
All the hustling, the ambulance chasing,
wondering if each job might be your last.
Christmas Cola's looking
for new in-house counsel.
High six figures, corner office.
All you have to do is the right thing.
Are you trying to bribe me
into throwing the case?
I've shown you how the world works.
There was no Santa until I made him real!
Me. That's power.
And that power can be a gift, Lincoln,
to little boys who behave.
Wow. Big ol' wow.
Everything I told Irene
about the shittiness of the adult world
is because of guys like you.
This city's kids deserve a better Santa.
Irene deserves better.
-I don't know the people in your life.
-You sound just like Sheila.
You know, Crimmons might be nuts,
but at least he actually believes
in something.
And so do I.
That I'm gonna kick your ass
in court tomorrow.
Merry Christmas, asshole.
It's October 30th.
Well, then, happy Halloween, good sir.
I feel like a new man, Harry.
Did three ghosts visit you, too?
No, but I'm ready to give
a passionate closing argument
that will win over that jury
and make you Santa.
Great! Love your energy.
Except instead, I'm gonna give
my own closin' argument.
What? But…
But we'll lose. I'll lose.
Irene will fully commit to this boring
millennial-adult shtick she's doing.
Lincoln, you took this case
because you didn't believe
in yourself or Santa.
But you kept goin' because, deep down
you knew there is magic in this world,
and that's worth fighting for.
All I'm askin' for is one more leap.
For anyone in this courtroom
who still doesn't believe,
Mr. Crimmons, I mean, Santa Claus,
will give his own closing statement.
I owe Your Honor an apology.
There was a gift you wanted, wasn't there?
Something very special.
One Christmas, you looked under the tree,
and it wasn't there.
You haven't believed in me since.
Well, I was rummagin' through my workshop,
and I found somethin' I'd like to give you
before you make your decision.
Something I should've given you
all those Christmases ago.
Oh! It can't be!
It's impossible, yet here it is!
The very gift I always wanted.
$30,000!
What?
And if the jurors will please look
under their chairs,
I believe they'll find some gifts as well.
Sorry they're a little late.
$25,000!
$18,000.
$40,000?
Oh, Santa, you really did get my letter.
You really, truly did.
Your Honor, only the real Santa
could know the gifts
that all these people secretly wanted.
Agreed. Jury, you agree. Great.
This court rules in favor of Mr. Crimmons,
Nevada's one and only Santa Claus.
We object. This is open bribery.
Oh, spoken like a true Scrooge.
Mr. Kringle, you are dismissed.
Hello, everybody. Okay, okay, calm down!
Well, today, I, George Wallace,
mayor of Las Vegas,
I grant Harry Crimmons,
aka Santa Claus, the key to the city.
This, of course, represents a smaller,
real key to the city.
The real key to the city
Harry, in his duties as Santa Claus,
can use to enter
any of our houses at any time!
I'm gonna get real weird with it, too.
Vegas Santa says
give Daddy a bowl of your teeth!
A-woo-woo-woo!
Huh. Didn't know
I was helping with that part.
Sorry, Irene. There's nothing stupid
about believing in things.
I know. In fact, you proved Santa is real,
and he's a freak.
The world is full of magic,
just in a gross and off-putting way.
Welcome to being a grown-up.
Hey, Kris, for what it's worth,
you really do look just like Santa.
Fuck you, Lincoln Gumb. I am Santa.
Nevada can kiss my bowl-full-of-jelly ass!
Hyah!
Goodbye, Santa!
Goodbye, Lord Kong!
Hey, what's wrong with Glem?
Oh, h-e's up to his tits on peyote.
What about that dude? Is he okay?
Probably not.
Anyway, now to drop Glem off
at Vegas's scariest haunted house.
Happy Halloween
from the Bride of Prankenstein!
Oh yeah, it's Halloween.
Pretty unsatisfying how I've been focusing
on Christmas all week.
Oh well!
-Trick or treat!
-Sorry, I don't have any candy.
Glem Blorchman sends his regards!
They were up to no good ♪
Didn't act like good monsters should ♪
They found themselves a new… ♪
Chirp.