Santa Inc. (2021) s01e03 Episode Script

Goldie:
Up the chimney!
Down the chimney!
Up the chimney!
Down the chimney!
Up on the rooftop.
Jesus, Candy, slow down.
Never!
I'll be named
Successor
or die trying!
Santa has to see
I'm not just a powerhouse
of ideas and efficiency.
I'm a jacked-up beast
who can toss
a 100-pound bag
of toys over my shoulder,
like this!
-(grunts)
-(cracks)
(grunting)
Cuthbert Ng:
Holiday News Network
breaking news.
Live from Easter Island.
Easter is cracking like
a motherfucking egg.
Sources inside
Easter Enterprises
tell us that Petunia Rabbit,
daughter of the very
religious Peter Rabbit,
is out as the company C.E.O.
after it was revealed
that she's had
thousands of abortions.
Oh shit!
There's Petunia now!
Petunia! Petunia!
Do you have
any comments
about being fired
by your own father?
Oh, yeah, my dad's
a fuckin' freak.
I mean, he's a hypocrite
hiding behind religion.
Who cares about
my personal life?
What about the millions
of hard-boiled, pastel-dyed
abortions hidden
in kids' yards
every Easter?
Just stop
following me!
(joyful music playing)
Good news:
You're a 75-year-old man
with the body
of a 75-year-old lady.
Because of your
womanly hips get it?
Why am I having another physical
so soon after Christmas Eve?
The Board is so paranoid.
I'm not gonna
keel over before
I pick a Successor.
How about me
as the next Santa?
I am a doctor,
and I deliver
bad news to patients,
like presents. Get it?
Of course I get it.
It's not subtle at all.
Yep, I could be the next Santa.
My one stipulation?
I don't work on Christmas.
Get it?
And, oh, sorry, I don't
make house calls. Get it?
The hell, man?
Why is my own doctor
makin' me sick?
Which is actually
a good joke. Take notes.
Just toss me
some‘zans,
and get lost.
(phone chimes)
Fuck! The board just
announced your date
for choosing a Successor
is moved up to Thanksgiving.
Why the fuck are we always
on Thanksgiving's time schedule?
The whole holiday is
based on an imperialist lie.
Not to mention,
the turkey is always dry.
Everyone, relax.
This is my legacy.
I don't want people dissin'
my ass when I'm dead.
I'm okay being fondled
when I'm dead.
If it makes some
necrophiliac happy,
go for it.
-Life is for the living.
-I thought I figured
it out with Candy,
and the whole,
like, woman thing,
and then, she just fuckin'
blew it with the Board.
I mean, yes, she has ideas,
but can she
really be the face
of Christmas?
Oh no!
Unrelated, I used to model
in my 20s, hmm?
To be clear, I am saying,
I would make a very
photogenic Successor,
so keep me in mind.
First gay Santa!
Except for Nick the Ninth,
that closeted fuck.
(knock on window)
No!
Wash the fuckin' windows!
Do you see what's
happening here?
-I'm under siege.
-Hey!
Get me out of here!
Look at that.
You wanna be Santa, too.
Don't you, little man?
Adorable, but also, you're
stressing me the fuck out.
Literally getting pressure
from every direction.
Ah! Ow! Ow! Ooh!
(intense music plays)
Hey!
I have a rape whistle!
Ahh, this is my
consensual sex whistle.
Fuck, where's my rape one?
Rape. Rape, rape, rape
Fear not sexual assault,
Candy Smalls.
It is time to reveal
my true identity.
Candy:
The tooth fairy?
Wait, no, President Nixon?
Oh, just a bunny?
I had some hard-hitting
questions for Nixon.
I am not just
some bunny.
I happen to be
the emissary
for Peter Rabbit.
He'd like to interview you
at his home for C.E.O.
of Easter Enterprises.
Thanks,
but I'm not interested.
Santa Inc. is my home,
and, I'll be honest,
a company that denies
a woman her bodily autonomy,
even for religious reasons,
is not for me.
Oh, that's the story
Petunia spread
to hide the real
reason she was fired,
her mental instability.
Peter is heartbroken
about what has happened
with his little girl.
Oh my god.
This is the interview
of a lifetime, Miss Smalls.
Think about it.
Osama Bun Laden.
Candy:
Oh my god, Santa
would freak if he knew
I went to a job interview,
and he's been weird to me
ever since the State
of the Workshop speech.
And Easter? Ham? Barf.
I'm not eating trafe
unless it's shrimp cocktail,
or, like, really good sushi
or, I guess, like,
anything from a raw bar.
You should do it!
Nothin' makes a man
appreciate you more
than seeing how bad
some other fool wants you.
-Play the game.
-I already got a game.
-Being a mad-pimp
at my job, bitches!
-(bell rings)
Jingle Jim (on speaker):
Lunch hour over. Back to work.
Only 289 more days
until Christmas Eve.
(yawns)
I'm taking a nap.
Larson gave us
an extra hour
for lunch
while the VIPs do
their private tasting.
What?!
I'm a VIP!
Why didn't you
mention this earlier?
Because I have
a busy fucking life
that doesn't include
keeping your schedule.
I am so tired!
It's like I can barely--
(snoring)
Ahh!
The gummy snakes are
much more realistic
this year, Larson.
I thought I was
getting attacked
by snakes just now.
Thank you,
thank you.
My ladies,
they work hard.
Wazzup, dudes?!
Yeah, just found out
the candy tasting was today,
which is bonkers,
considering I am
-Stocking Stuffer Safety Czar.
-You were invited.
Did the email go
to your junk folder?
The subject line was,
"Do You Want a Bigger Penis?"
Get it? Junk folder?
I save my junk folder
for Friday night reading.
Last week,
I found out my cousin,
Gerhardt, has lupus.
Will you just make sure
to mention the taffy valve flow,
and the gummy-shaper protocol?
Any lapse can
cause a messy spill.
(sarcastically):
A messy spill? Oh no.
Sounds so important.
Nurse, get us a moist
towelette, stat.
-Not a messy spill.
-(group laughing)
Ugh! I am out.
And just so you know,
the women of the North Pole
make fun of one of your dicks.
Have fun wondering whose it is.
Well, it's not me.
I have a beautiful penis.
As I've been
told by my wife
and my doctor.
Jeremy:
If I'm not a millionaire
by the time I'm 30,
I am killing myself,
and that's a promise.
Hey!
Is, uh, Candy around?
I feel kinda shitty
about yesterday.
Wanted to take
her to lunch.
Ugh, I gotta go.
Some fat guy just
barged into my office.
Oh, she's not here,
and I can't tell you why
because I'm not
a blabbermouth
buuut
this goss is way too hot
to keep to myself!
Candy went to interview
with Peter Rabbit
to become C.E.O.
of Easter Enterprises!
She what?!
(light music playing)
Oh.
-La, la, la.
-(laughing)
(grunting)
Welcome to Easter Enterprises!
Embrace the pastel.
Inhale the fake grass.
Behold the basket.
Enjoy the mango--
Ahh!
(grunts)
Don't shoot!
That's my mother.
(whispers):
How did you know
I was here?
Your assistant told me,
but I am not
missing my chance
to snag the Peter Rabbit.
I've been masturbating
to his picture for years.
I don't even
know what the back
of his head looks like.
I wish I could be mad,
but I'm just so impressed
you hung to the bottom
of a plane for three hours.
Now please stay
out of my way
while we're here.
(horse whinnies)
Oh, but those teeth,
and those legs.
Aye, aye, aye!
Candy Smalls
Thank you for coming
to meet with me.
I am quite an admirer.
I read your op-ed
in "The North Atlantic."
It made me feel,
and it made me think.
That was exactly
what I was going for!
And who is this
enchanting beauty?
Your much younger
half-sister from your
father's third marriage?
Oh, I'm her mom.
You're so handsome,
just like I imagined
you'd be when I mastur--
mastered the art of
touching myself.
-Jingle Jim: Ahh!
-(cat yelps)
How about another
round before work?
We can christen a new
bottle of poppers.
Fuck yeah.
Bust that shit out.
(grunting)
Oh god! Shit! Ah.
-Gnarly!
-Oh.
Girl, just jerk off
and sleep.
Good luck!
(phone ringing)
Good morning, Santa.
I can't come in today.
F-- Uh, food poisoning.
Love you.
Dammit.
Of all the days
for Jim to be sick.
Everyone is turning on me.
First Brent, now Candy.
It feels terrible.
I'm not good at comforting.
You've never even said
one nice thing to me.
Easter Island?
Easter fuckin' Island
of all fuckin' places.
Candy fucking
backstabbing asshole.
Your Jolly-ness,
I, I am Devin,
intern to Candy, uh,
Duchess of Smalls.
Cut that shit out.
Can I get some food?
Gettin' low blood sug.
It's makin' me cranks-y.
-Oh, ya think?
-(clears throat) If I may,
uh, allow me to suggest
a meatball submarine, sir?
-Uh, there's a place nearby--
-Yes, I'll drive.
♪
This place
is incredible.
Delivering eggs makes
you a lotta money.
Peter, is there
somewhere I can, uh
how do you say
this ladylike,
scrub the travel
dust off my beaver?
Put a comb
through my pubes.
Mom, the man
runs Easter!
He doesn't
wanna hear about
your filthy
fucking genitals!
I apologize, sir.
Bathroom at the top
of the stairs, my dear.
Let's get
right to it.
Easter Enterprise
has always had
a simple ethos,
community.
I do the White House
Easter Egg Roll,
but my sons
deliver the baskets,
all of which are
handmade with organic
and sustainable
material, of course.
Communally run,
and environmentally
responsible?
Wow, this is spank bank
material for me.
As C.E.O.,
you'll be number one,
and I don't know what
I'll do if you turn me down.
You're the only candidate.
Only me?
Well, I'm all ears!
Literally.
Well, we both are.
(both laughing)
-Candy: Oh!
-Candy, meet my oldest son,
my heir, Peter the Third.
P3. He's a bit of
a Candy Smalls fanboy,
or more than a bit.
He's obsessed.
Don't pay any
attention to him, Candy.
I'm not a stalker.
I mean, I, I love your work,
but I, I, I don't, like,
follow everything that you do.
I mean, I-I'm up to date
on some of the thin--
I'm-- I just-- I'm a fan.
No, no, no!
Be a stalker if you want.
You're cute.
I could do worse.
I should be so lucky.
-(P3 chuckles)
-Well, that's for sure.
P42 just grew
out his man bun.
Son, why don't you give
our guest the grand tour?
And I'll show
her mom around.
(snoring)
Cookie, I just
saw you dozing off.
-Can I do anything to help?
-Well, you could give me
what most
industrialized
nations provide,
health insurance
with maternity leave.
It sickens my heart that
we don't provide that,
-but what can you do?
-Revise the system?
Prioritize empathy
and compassion?
Ha! You and me both.
Okay, keep going, girls.
Love your work ethic!
(softly):
So sexy.
Eww.
-(snoring)
-(intense music plays)
(high-pitched whirl)
Devin:
We call them subs
'cause the shape
is like
a submarine
of bread.
I used to love these subs
when I was in school,
and they're still good.
So, uh how's
the internship goin'?
Candy is so cool.
She's a maverick,
ahead of her time--
Candy?!
Devin, you know I chose
the first Black Successor.
That was a big deal.
Everyone was like,
"This is crazy!
You can't do this."
And I was like,
"No, it's time.
"You know what?
It's fuckin' past time.
It was time a long time ago,
and now, it's long overdue."
And everyone's like,
"He's Black. He can't do it."
And I'm like,
"Fuck that! I know that,
even though he's Black
he can do it."
Well, you made history.
Holy shit!
I can't believe I'm bolstering
Santa's seemingly fragile ego!
Now, I'm basically back
to the drawing board, though.
All I hear all day,
(mockingly):
"Who's the new Successor?"
"Please, make me
the new Successor."
(groans)
Take today off.
Chill with me and my frat bros.
-What house you in?
-Igma Loo.
Dude, I was Igma Loo!
God bless Igma Loo!
-Everyone else is a pile of poo!
-is a pile of poo!
-Nice!
-Yeah, that's why I chose it
because you're my hero.
I bought some of your
beard hair on the internet.
-Look what I had it made into.
-It looks real. Jesus.
Who in my house is doing this?
You know what?
You're right.
I need a break.
Let's go visit
the old house.
If we hurry,
we can catch
the snowball fight.
Oh, I used
to love those.
Shovin' snow down
the bros' backs.
Wild times.
-Devin: Knock his ass out!
-Frat Guy 1: Woo! Yeah!
Frat Guy 2:
Turn him into water!
Drink that fucker
for breakfast!
-Make him bleed his own blood.
-Holy shit, things have changed.
Yo, that fool Devin
brought Santa!
Two mutha-fuckin'
kings among us!
Frat Guys (chanting):
Kings! Kings! Kings!
-(work horn blows)
-Ugh, I slept an hour.
The baby went crazy,
and ate our guest room.
We were in
the ER all night.
I feel like shit.
-Yeah, you do look really bad.
-Fuck you!
Get your roots done,
and then we'll talk.
(gasps):
Shit!
-Taffy spill! Evacuate!
-(all screaming)
Where is Larson?!
I love your lady brain
as much as your body.
I love women.
Cookie, we gotta go!
If Larson is gone,
I'm the shift leader!
I need to make sure
everyone's out safe!
Even if it means
I can't go home
for days or months.
(siren wailing)
This is where
my brothers and I
train every year.
Oh, look!
There are 400
of 'em over there.
Hey, guys!
P240, P15,
-love what you're doin'!
-Candy: Whew
I can feel the burn
in my glutes already.
-(camera clicks)
-Oh, that was
for my trainer.
She'll be impressed
I got a workout in.
P3:
A trainer?
You're in perfect shape.
Oh, sorry.
That was inappropriate.
I mean what's
"perfect" shape anyway?
I-- It's all subjective.
I mean, you're
my perfect shape.
For me.
I mean, for a girl that
I'd be attracted to.
I mean--
Oh no, anytime you wanna
compliment my body, I consent.
(chuckles)
And, you know, I feel,
I feel like being
a leader requires
mental and physical strength,
so I push myself
hard.
You know,
I'm talking quads,
delts, trips, septets,
hambones, all of‘em.
The whole thing.
I envy your career.
I mean, resurrection,
it's bullshit, right?
We only have one life to live.
We gotta give it all we got.
Candy:
What are
your dreams?
Uh, to blow up
this island,
and boil two-thirds
of my family in a stew?
-(laughs)
-Not you P83!
You're great!
(both laughing)
My quarters, which brings
us to the end of the tour,
-and our time together.
-No! I don't want it to end.
Well, maybe it
doesn't have to if
you can convince
your daughter
to take the job.
Wouldn't that
be wonderful?
All of us
together.
Oh, if I can't
convince Candy
on merit,
I'm happy to roofie her.
I've done it before.
It's so hot when you joke about
committing crimes
against your daughter.
Where does that
old saying come from,
"Fuck like rabbits"?
(laughs)
I mean, it's never
"Fuck like llamas,"
or pigeons,
but "fuck like rabbits."
Care to explain that to me?
Let me show
you instead.
-(grunting)
-(giggling)
Big Candy:
I like the size
of that carrot.
-(rock music playing)
-(Frat Guys cheering)
This is way better
than being at work.
(laughs)
Come here!
-Yeah!
-(Frat Guys cheering)
Ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho.
P3:
I have to show you something.
You know when I said
I wasn't passionate
about anything in my life?
That wasn't true.
Wow, look at all
these tapestries.
I, I never thought yarn
could give me the chills.
The pathos you get
out of this, it's--
Really?
Oh my god.
Wow, I'm so happy
you like them.
Uh, no one knows
about this place,
but you made
me brave enough
to speak my truth.
Actually,
to scream it.
(shouts): I hate
the corporate world,
and I love
weaving tapestries!
Yes! Oh my god!
I feel alive!
-Yes!
-(both laughing)
You have
beautiful ears.
So perky and big.
-May I touch them?
-Sure.
I mean,
they're nothing compared
to your long, furry ones.
(moans)
(moans)
(sensual music playing)
(moans)
-(phone ringing)
-Fuck. It's the office.
Hey, Jer.
Everything okay?
Jeremy (on phone, crying):
No, I'm at the candy factory.
It's a mess, and everyone
in charge of shit is M.I.A.!
Candy:
It's because those assholes
didn't take the proper safety
measures during that tasting.
Is anyone hurt?
Jeremy:
One lady worker is stuck.
She looks dead,
but she's snoring,
so I think she's sleeping.
Mmm, sweet relief.
Calm down.
I'll be back soon.
Aw, I need
to leave, but
I've decided to accept
your father's offer.
(Santa groaning)
Thank you for today.
For real, I feel
so unstressed
for the first
time in weeks.
-You really helped me.
-Are you kidding me?
You helped me out.
I brought Santa
to a party!
I've got serious
street cred
for the first time
with my bros.
Mmm, I know it looks like
I'm just another Igma Loo,
but the bros can be mean,
they make fun of my hair,
my clothes, that I'm dyslexic--
Dude, I'm dyslexic as fuck, too.
-You are?
-Santa: Yeah!
How did you pull it together?
I mean look at you.
You're Santa.
Well, uh, I became
the class clown,
and then, I got fat,
which made me even
more hilarious.
Fat men are very funny,
but fat women are disgusting.
I get it.
People laugh so hard
when I push my fat gut
around my belly button,
and call it a "hair bagel."
Let's maybe
change out that shirt.
-I think we're the same size.
-Really?
I mean, I'm just
eyeballin' it here,
but I feel like you
might be a little
fatter than me.
Fatter than Santa?
Thank you!
So, Candy's
going back,
but then,
she's quitting.
(laughs)
We did it, son.
Santa Incorporated
is going down.
Suck on this, Nick!
We can't do this, Papa.
Shut it! Listen to me.
That piece of jolly shit
has destroyed Easter.
Do we have
a Black Friday?
No!
Are kids worried they
won't get a basket
of shitty candy
and cheap-ass
stuffed animals?
No!
Easter used to be
the biggest holiday
out there.
Then Santa fucked us.
But no more!
Once we get all the secrets
of Santa Inc. out of Candy,
I will rule the holiday world!
Christmas will be as
important as one of those
dog-shit Jewish holidays.
And Easter will happen
every month of the year.
Fuck the resurrection.
Peter Rabbit will
be the new Jesus.
Watch out world!
(evil laughter)
But, Papa, this
seems too big for--
This was a simple
seduce and destroy mission,
and now you're backing out?
You'll basically
be Jesus' son,
which makes you--
Oh, I don't fuckin'
know the guy's name,
but you'll be huge!
We all will be.
Do you even care
about this company?
I am not a company man!
To be honest,
I'm more of a crafts man?
I make tapestries.
That's my passion.
(chuckling)
Tapestries?
You're a rabbit,
not a pussy.
Just shut up
with that shit,
stick to the plan,
and soon enough,
Santa Inc., Santa,
and Candy Smalls
will be screwed.
You sick son-of-a-bitch.
That's my daughter!
(grunting)
We need to find Candy.
Here, put on my sweatshirt.
Mom, your
vagina's out!
Alarming and sexy,
my go-to style.
Anyway, we
need to scram.
Peter only wants
you here to settle
a grudge with Santa.
But he loved
my article about
global warming.
That was just a scam, Candy.
My father's hatred of Santa
has turned his heart evil.
We have to go before
he calls his guards!
-(intense music plays)
-(zombie rabbits growling)
(grunting)
Ah!
-(P3 grunts)
-Ah!
Sorry, brother,
but it's biblical,
and you suck.
(Candy grunts)
-(fighting)
-(P3 grunting)
♪
(growling)
We don't have
much time.
They'll go through
those carrots in a minute.
(grunts)
Petunia:
Over here!
The only female rabbit
without children is
here to save the day.
-Wait!
-Come on!
I'm sorry. I can't go.
My dad might kill me, yes,
but I have to try
and save my home.
There's a resistance forming.
We will make Easter good again.
But I love you, Candy Smalls.
I love you, too.
♪
Petunia:
Behind you, brother!
Feral freaks at 6:00!
(growling)
Hop over this, bitch!
♪
Take care of her, sister!
Precious cargo!
Candy:
Thanks for kicking
that freak's ass.
I know you've been
masturbating to him
for years,
so means a lot.
Of course.
Listen
I know I haven't
been the best mom.
I belittle you,
forge your checks,
steal from your 401k.
Once I sold your kidney
on the open market--
Yeah, I know all of this.
I get audited every year
because of you.
Wow, you were one
step ahead of me
the whole time?
You are
a smarty-pants,
like your father.
You remind me
so much of him.
Sometimes
when I see you,
it makes me so sad.
Then I get mad
that he's gone,
and I lash out at you.
-And I'm sorry, honey.
-Oh.
Your dad was sweet,
just like you,
but it did not get
him far in his career
in the coal mines.
I don't want you
to make the same mistake.
See the snakes
in the grass, Candy,
then you become
a snake yourself.
(tires screeching)
I gotta get
to the candy factory.
Petunia, thank you,
and good luck to you.
“My body, my choice!”
Amen, woman!
(snoring)
-Boss, wake up.
-Oh, will you stop screaming?
We have to get to
the candy factory fast.
While I was,
uh, out sick,
we had
a Chernobyl-level
taffy event.
The press is
all over it.
Wha--
What exactly would
you call what you're
wearing right now?
Best years of my life, dude.
Stir in
the peanut butter,
stat!
The oil will
loosen up the taffy.
Come on, people!
This is Safety Czar 101 shit.
And see?
Okay, it's working.
Cookie, you're free!
No, wait! Please let me stay.
I've only made a dent
in my sleep deprivation.
I'm here with Candy Smalls,
Number Two at Santa Inc.
Looks like the spill
is safely under control,
but it makes us think:
With the pressures of
choosing a Successor,
has Santa started
to lose it?
The Successor
will be with us
for a generation,
and Santa is wise
to take his time.
The only newsworthy
story here is
that Santa Inc.
is running as
smoothly ever!
You didn't have
to cover for me,
but thank you.
I'm glad you did.
It's good to have you back.
That is, if you are back.
If I haven't, in fact,
lost you to Peter Rabbit.
Oh my god.
Peter Rabbit's
fucking insane.
I mean, his offer was
fucking insane the offer.
It was just so much.
So many benefits,
so much freedom.
But, you know,
I realized, whether you
make me Successor or not,
I would rather be
a team player here
at Santa Inc.
than running
the whole show there.
That's massive
What a character revealer.
Like, I feel like
I know you like, like
so much more now.
And you know what?
I, may-be, perhaps judged
your speech to the Board
a little too harshly.
-Welcome home, Candy.
-Thanks, Santa.
It's good to be back.
I'm coming to you live
from the insurrection
at Easter Isle.
Warning: You will never look
at a rabbit the same way again.
-(fighting)
-(laughing)
Happy Easter,
muthafucka.
Yolks on you, bitch.
(light music playing)
Na, na, na, na ♪
Na, na, na, na ♪
Na, na, na, na, na, na, na ♪
Na, na, na, na ♪
Na, na, na ♪
♪
Na, na ♪
Na, na ♪