Santa Inc. (2021) s01e05 Episode Script

"Happy Birthday, Big Man!
"We love you,
Barack and Michelle.
"In lieu of a gift,
we made a donation
in your name to one
our favorite charities."
Fuckin' lame!
What about a donation
and a gift?
Why don't they do that?
You get it, Snowie.
Right?
-Mm-hm.
-Santa: You've always
been there for me.
You know, I shouldn't
be telling anyone this,
but I made a big decision,
and I just need to tell someone,
or I think
I'm gonna fuckin' puke.
I've finally decided
who to make my Successor.
-It's Candy!
-(cheers)
Awesome choice, right?
And the headlines will read,
"Santa chooses
a woman Successor,
and makes history! Again!"
Boom!
But I'm gonna sit on it.
Make the Board sweat it out.
Those fuckin' dicks.
Okay, Snowie, see you around--
Well, not around, but, you know,
in here, in the office,
where you live.
I'll see you later. Jesus.
Whatever, you get it.
(door closes)
-(toilet flushes)
-Oh my shit!
It should be me!
(snow globe shatters)
-Whoa!
-(bells jingling)
(joyful music playing)
(coughs)
(Junior cries)
(both laughing)
Yes, teens, it is I.
Assuming you'd like a selfie.
-With Junior?
The washed-up reindeer?
-Ugh, no thanks.
We heard you
beat up a woman
just to become Santa?
It was only a golf game!
And I didn't touch
that lyin' dwarf!
Ah! Run away!
He's toxic!
Fuckin' fake news.
Bitch elf, ruined
my gorgeous reputation.
(choir music plays)
You look like you
could use a friend.
And, uh, maybe,
a career-saving makeover?
(burps)
Amen to that.
Candy: So I got rid
of that puss, Junior.
Jingle Jim's a long shot.
Larson and Timmy the Toy Guy
are my only real competition.
And I am playing this
like a man would, right?
You know what I'm talkin' about,
you handsome motherfucker.
(both laughing)
Candy, what a treat.
We never see you anymore.
No guilt!
But it has been so long.
I know.
Do I look taller to you?
-Like, I feel taller.
-Maybe.
Do I look any
different to you
like more pregnant?
Hint, hint.
Whoa! What?
You're pregnant?
-That-- What, what
did the doctor say?
-I didn't go to a doctor.
-What did the home
pregnancy test say?
-Did not do one.
-But you missed your period?
-No, I know my body,
and it is carrying
Fun Size's sister.
Probably named Symone.
Okay, sorry.
I guess I'm wrong.
Congrats.
Thank you!
But don't tell
anyone at work.
Larson axes women
when they get pregnant.
And he's currently fucking
two factory workers.
-Identical twin sisters.
-Oh, is he?
(ominous music plays)
My baby shower is
this Saturday night.
-Don't forget.
-Halloween?!
No, I--
That's Santa's birthday.
I'm the host this year.
It's a huge deal.
Santa's birthday's practically
like a, a North Pole holiday.
(cries)
What is next?
Mother's Day?
Okay, stop.
God, don't cry.
It's fine.
I can do both.
I can
stop by here,
and then
get to his thing.
But I should
get to work
right now, so
Cool!
And you don't have
to get me a present.
But if you do,
make it a gift card
because I don't trust
your taste. Byeee.
Timmy the Toy Guy:
I made a gift
for Santa's birthday,
and, well
I wanted your opinion
since you work
so closely together.
Oh god, yeah.
I totally know his taste.
(light music plays)
Magnificent.
But doesn't it look
a little like--
A little like what?
(ominous music plays)
The perfect gift
for the man
who has everything?
Bravo, Timmy, bravo!
Okay, so busy.
Tight schedule. Gotta go.
(laughs)
We've almost made it, Hans-Otto!
(Jeremy laughs)
Candy:
Seating chart? Done.
Beverages? Done.
Appetizers? Done.
All right, get up
and help, bozo.
You're in charge
of ice sculptures.
Sure, everybody
loves ice sculptures,
but if I mush together
a bunch of human babies
for my party,
they'll call me a monster.
You know what? Excuse me,
I need to cry
at the inhumanity
displayed here.
Don't follow me!
Whoa! Look at you.
I didn't know it
was Picture Day.
You look
Devin-ishly handsome.
Just tryna step up my game.
I
have something
to talk to you about,
-but I'm really nervous.
-Aw, that's so flattering.
Are you scared
shitless of me, too?
I've always wanted someone
to be scared shitless of me.
-Definitely. Very shitless.
-Yay!
Okay, here it goes,
if you're made Successor,
I'd like to be considered
as your Number Two.
I'm not just some college slob.
I want a career here.
Look at this straight talk.
And the ambition? I love it!
Very Candy circa Boxing Day.
And as far as becoming
my Number Two,
with a shit-ton of training,
I can possibly see it
happening in like 15 years,
-but, you know, no promises.
-15 years, but no promises?
Candy, you're making
a boy's dreams come true!
Woo!
You will never go
far in this industry
by whirling
your boss around.
Writin' that one down.
All right,
let's get to work.
I'm planning Santa's party.
Brent always did
a lot of nice toasts,
you know, "We love you
blah, blah, blah."
I wanna go bigger.
I'm thinking I'd go
more roast than toast.
Dudes love that shit!
Brutality hidden under
the veil of lighthearted banter?
Yeah! On my 21st,
Horse Cock did
a tight 45 minutes
on how fat my ass was.
I laughed so hard that night
though I cried myself to sleep.
I'm sure it was unrelated.
Roasts are hilarious,
as long as you have
good material.
Oh, do I.
(ominous laugh)
I-I can't stop
eating ham.
When I was pregnant
with Fun Size,
all I wanted
was Oreos.
Isn't that kinda
cannibalistic?
That'd be like
me eating venison.
Ladies Goldie.
An invite to Santa's
birthday party?
Candy said it was
for work people only.
It is, but I'm
on a career track
at Santa Inc.,
and was given
a special plus-one
to the North Pole's
biggest event of the year,
besides Christmas,
of course.
And you, m'lady,
are the only one
I want to invite.
Oh my god,
that is so sweet.
Sorry, I can't.
That's the night
of Cookie's baby shower.
Oh my god,
that is so sweet.
Oh, you can reject me now,
but I'll be back.
We dyslexics
don't give up easily.
Oh! Oh! Oh!
Oh-eee! Oh.
Oh, that was great, oh.
I'm sorry I screamed
about fuckin' a goblin
before I came.
Don't read into that.
Happy 75th birthday, Nick.
Now maybe you'd
like to do oral sex?
Sure, yeah,
I'll take
another Viagra,
and then I'll, uh,
have another erection,
-and then, uh--
-I meant on me.
What? On my birthday?
Yes! Now get under those covers,
and go down on your fucking wife
for once since
Biggie killed Tupac!
Jeremy (oh phone):
Oh (gags)--
Ah, I-- Ugh.
I can't help tonight.
I'm sick.
Yeah, I've got
a fever and chills.
Jeremy, I know
you're lying.
I can see you
floating by.
Now I have to go.
You've made me late.
Jeremy:
The one doing
Molly isn't me!
Hey, pass that Molly.
Have fun
at Santa's party.
We'll be spending
a quiet night at home.
There's a World War I
doc I'm gonna watch.
I'll always regret
never bein' in a war.
Legal murder is the shit.
And I'll spend the night
getting ahead on my taxes?
Ha! I knew you
assholes are crashing.
Just don't embarrass me
until my roast is over.
This is gonna be Santa's
best birthday party ever.
Could you make sure to mention
the retired coal miners?
Exposure to that
fancy crowd will
really help the cause.
Grandpa, no.
Tonight's a celebration.
It's not a time
for depressing
shit like that.
Coal miners' issues are
anything but depressing!
Tony knows.
He's been hangin'
out there lately.
(coughing)
Bein' down there
gave me coal cough.
Well, that's all
she wrote, evil world.
See ya!
Ahh!
-(crash, car alarm beeps)
-(woman screams)
Yeah, the coal miners' cause
is not depressing at all.
(softly):
Oh shit.
Candy says
she's sorry
she can't come,
but she'll make
it up to you.
I'm so sorry, Cook.
To be honest,
I think I used
this shower as an excuse
for us to spend time with her.
You know what?
Go to Santa's birthday
party with Devin.
Really?
You wouldn't care?
Oh, I would resent you,
and talk tons of shit
for many years,
but I can't control you
Kidding! I don't care.
I have Craig and Fun Size.
Now get outta here, bitch.
Oh, that is the most
sentimental "bitch"
I've ever said.
Craig?
Runnin' low on ham!
Candy:
Happy Birthday, Santa.
Tonight there will be cake,
there will be presents
and yes, oh yes,
there will be blood.
I mean, not real,
but metaphorical blood.
Guest: Hey, Candy.
Nice gangster costume!
This glass has a smudge.
Not acceptable.
This is Santa's
birthday party!
Take them all back.
Pinocchio is
a bastardization
-of an old fairytale
in which the boy dies--
-Sexy and hilarious.
-(laughing)
-(party music plays)
And, well, yes,
I'm the character
The Great Gatsby
from the book
"The Great Gatsby."
-You look beautiful.
-I'm Tonya Harding.
She was the first
American to land
a triple axel
in competition.
A badass and a true athlete.
Double vodka martini.
Straight up.
You got it.
I love your costume,
Mrs. Claus.
Did you want your
martini dirty?
(chuckles)
Make it filthy.
So filthy someone
needs to call
the Health Department.
(laughs)
Welcome to Santa's
75th Birthday Extravaganza!
It's a big one,
ladies and jellybeans.
Now pipe down and shut it,
or I'll mow your asses
to the ground!
But first, a few of our
Successor contenders
would like to speak
to Santa on his big day.
(cheers)
At first, I considered
the tried and true,
a cupcake-of-the-month club
subscription for Santa,
but then, I was like,
"What about two cupcakes
every month club?"
Unfortunately,
it does not exist.
So, I went--
And now
without further ado,
I would like
to reveal to you,
my gift for Santa.
-A toy that represents
-(winding clicks)
your lifetime.
(music box plays)
-(guest ooh and aah)
-Santa: Ah.
(guests cheering
and applauding)
Santa:
God.
(sighs)
Santa:
Bravo, bravo!
Big Candy:
Psst, hey, honey.
How'd you like
to meet Mr. Claus?
Mr. Lobster Claws!
(grunting)
Candy:
Tonight we've heard
some beautiful toasts.
But now, let's get
to the real fun.
A roast
not of Santa
of my fellow
Successor contenders.
Oh yeah! I love a roast!
First of my rivals, Junior.
But God and a bad game of golf
have already taken care of him.
-(guests laughing)
-Guest: Oh, sick burn!
So, let's move
on to Jingle Jim.
Turns out he's had a hard life.
Why make it worse, right?
Amp it up!
You're bein' too nice.
Be a bad bitch!
Hold your reindeer,
birthday boy!
Now, what about
our own Timmy?
All he ever talks
about is toys.
I had no idea he was
a history buff, too
until I saw
his gift to Santa.
It blew me away
in about six million
different ways.
-(guests booing)
-I did not see that
when I designed it.
Not see!
You hear me? Not see!
Not see! Am I helping?!
Oh, he is a Nazi.
Holy shit!
That might have
actually been the best
moment of my entire life.
(quietly):
Bang bang, fuck face.
Oh my god,
that was awful.
Let's continue
with something
sweeter
or someone sweeter.
Our own Larson,
King of Chocolate,
and a longtime supporter
of women's rights,
not to mention
their tits and asses.
Ha! I wish.
Married 28 years.
And I don't
need to cheat.
My hot wife and I
fuck constantly!
She just gave me
a handy under the table!
Both: Larson!
You told me you
guys never fucked!
Wait, what?!
You don't even have a vagina.
Mrs. Claus:
A cheater as Santa?
Jingle Jim:
A swinger as Successor?
This is going to alienate
the evangelicals.
Massacre complete.
I am so shocked and sorry
by what's happened.
I had no idea some
lighthearted roasting
would reveal such
character damnation.
My bad.
Do not apologize!
A party mixed
with presents,
a toast, roasts,
a Nazi, and sizzling gossip?
Hands down, weirdest
and best birthday ever!
Thanks, Santa.
Now let's get
to the moment
we've all been
waiting for, shall we?
Ah-ha.
Ah-ha!
Important people
of Santa Inc.!
The coal miners are
the unsung heroes
of Santa Inc.,
and we are treated
like shit by you,
so tonight we sing
to you of our plight.
Coal mines make me sick ♪
But not sick like my dick ♪
Stop it!
Grandpa, Tony,
you're ruining this party!
Nobody cares about coal!
Candy!
How could you?
You're a coal
miner's daughter!
Poppin' out of a cake!
Happy Birthday, Big Guy!
Santa and The Board,
you all have coal dust
on your hands!
Wow, this is a lot--
-Guest 1: Oh my god!
-Call 911!
Guest 2:
We better not get
blamed for this shit.
-Guest 3: I was in the Bahamas.
-Oh my god.
Essential services
is down because
of the blizzard.
-What about the sleigh?
-Oh shit!
-I'm having it renovated.
-What do we do?
Follow me!
-(panting)
-(intense music plays)
I got you, Santa.
I got you.
Oh God.
Fat Man is
in the building!
10 cc's of eggnog, stat!
Oh god.
Please save Santa.
(grunting)
♪
Candy:
He's the strongest
person there is.
There's no way
he won't be okay.
I think what would help
Santa now is the love
of my new BFF.
I'm talkin'
about Christ.
My boy J.C.!
Accept Jesus into your
life with this baptism!
Save your soul
and Santa's life.
-Get off of her!
-Dr. Fruitcake: Mrs. Claus,
I have some good news
and some bad news.
-The good news is,
Santa is in stable condition.
-(all sigh with relief)
The bad news is,
the stable condition,
-is a medically induced coma.
-(all gasp)
Which is actually good news
because it gives us time
-to prepare for a very lengthy
and complicated surgery.
-(all sigh with relief)
-Which is bad news.
-(all gasp)
Because I won't
be home for dinner
and it's lasagna night,
and, I, like a certain
feline named Garfield,
live for lasagna,
but I guess that's
just bad news for me.
All right, we have no choice
but to enact Article Seven,
Subsection B of
the North Pole Edict:
(clears throat)
"When a Santa
becomes incapacitated,
"and cannot carry
out his duties,
the Board must anoint
an Acting Santa."
Now, normally this
would be the Successor,
but since Santa's
been stringing us along
like he's in
a filthy reality show,
we are obligated to go
with the highest-ranking
member of Santa Inc.,
which, in this case,
would be
-(patriotic music plays)
-I, Candy Smalls,
do solemnly swear
to honor all the traditions
and spirit of Christmas
and will to the best
of my abilities
preserve and protect
Jingle Jim:
Well, well, well,
if it isn't the first Santa
who pees sitting down.
Ha, ha.
Is there any update
on Santa's condition?
Is he, is he dead?
-He's still in surgery.
-Oh! We did it!
Yeah!
Y'all a bunch of ugly losers!
And me and Candy,
but mostly me,
are a couple
of sexy-ass winners!
Enough, Jeremy.
You're lazy and entitled,
and I thought you'd
grow up and change,
but you haven't.
So, you're fired.
Wha-- Candy!
How can you do that to me?
Wait, do I get unemployment?
Because if I do, whatever,
but if I don't, you suck!
Ah, there you are!
It's Cookie.
She went into labor.
Craig texted me,
and said something
went wrong.
Girl Santa on the move.
Girl Santa on the move.
Mm, mm, mm.
This whole thing sucks.
I'm sorry
the coffee's so bad.
-I hate hospitals.
-Oh, me too.
You know, uh, when
I was getting divorced,
I read something about how,
at the end of the day,
we just need to tuck our
worries under the pillow,
and have faith that,
by morning,
they'll all float away.
That's from
the Tooth Fairy's memoir,
"Beneath the Pillow."
I just read that!
That's what my costume is!
Oh yeah.
That's right.
Is she just so darn
impressive or what?
Really, the Tooth Fairy's
the only self-made woman
in the whole
holiday industry.
She really is.
If only all of us
could have
that woman's
courage, I--
I'm sorry.
I should probably go.
Well, uh, hey,
if there's ever
anything you need,
you just knock
on the door of
the Thirsty Deer,
and I'll be there.
Cookie, are you okay?
Aw, my friends.
I have sad news.
I gave birth to a seven-pound
six-ounce honey-baked ham.
It was
a hysterical
pregnancy.
Symone was a ham!
So, you're okay?
Good. What a relief.
But, hey, did you hear?
I'm Acting Santa!
How cool is that?
Ho, ho, ho. Ha!
I mean, hopefully,
he'll be fine.
Fuck, I'm hungry.
Hm, and so insensitive.
What does that mean?
An elf can't eat
a big hunk
of rye bread anymore?
You flaked on the baby shower,
before we found out
it was a ham shower,
but it was still
a big event for her.
You're talking about
being there for Cookie's
life moments?
You fucked the best man
at her wedding.
So what?
That happens
all the time.
During the ceremony?
My mother still cries
when she talks about it.
I'm just saying, I've always
been there for both of you,
and now if I'm, maybe,
being a little bit self-focused,
I would, you know, think
you would give me a pass.
We've given you
a lot of passes lately.
And, Candy, I saw your
face during that roast
You were so vicious.
I didn't even recognize you.
Ms. Smalls,
there's an update
on Santa's condition.
Oh my god, is he dead?!
I mean, is he okay? Is he well?
-Unknown.
-I gotta go.
I'll check in later.
And then, like,
after three years,
she fires me.
It's so unfair.
If anything,
I deserve a raise
and my own assistant.
You agree, right?
Have you even been
listening to me?
My last words are
(gasps for air)
you seem super-entitled.
-(flatline)
-(family cries)
Um, not sure
which one of you
that was for,
but I hope you
learn from this.
It was a mild heart arrhythmia.
Mrs. Claus is with him.
So, he's really
gonna be okay?
Yes!
Why do you all
look so alarmed?
Because you're
covered in
old blood!
It's just chocolate.
One of the nurses
brought brownies.
But I'm afraid those
delicious treats
have zero percent
chance of survival.
As soon as Santa recovers,
he must name a Successor.
And Devin
just kept going
through the snow
until he
got you here.
You know, he's big,
but he doesn't seem strong.
I guess it's like
when a mom lifts a van
off her baby, you know?
Like, he saw me,
his hero, in trouble,
and he just
Hulked the fuck out.
Santa!
I'm so glad you're okay.
I guess it's true what they say,
your heart is way too big.
It wasn't his heart.
Um his lap
implants burst,
which led to sepsis.
I thought the implants
were indestructible,
like part titanium
and part dinosaur
or something.
I did, too, but I guess it
just took a special situation
to break them down.
You see, Candy, earlier today
I was going down on Mrs. Claus,
-cunnilingus--
-She doesn't need
this information!
No, no, she does,
and it's fine.
Look, Candy, it's just that,
to get my tongue
at the right angle,
I have to spread
my legs like a dog,
-like lying on a rug kinda--
-This is so humiliating.
(awkward laughter)
(Candy laughs)
(laughs)
Ho, ho, ho!
Santa:
Man of the hour.
Come on in.
For carrying me all that way,
I can only say with the deepest
and most sincere gratitude,
I fuckin' owe you, brah.
Just happy I could help.
Hey, I know
it's late, but
I've got some
special visitors.
(all laughing)
Come on,
you little rascal.
What did you
guys wanna say?
Kids:
Get well soon, Santa!
That was better
than any medicine.
Except for
the medicine of morphine,
which is
much better.
All right, people!
Santa needs to rest.
Party's over.
Outta here.
-Skedaddle. Shoo, shoo.
-Ooh, an elf.
-I like your ears.
-No! I-- Don't touch my ears!
They're sensitive!
Stop it! No!
Bad kid! Easy, easy. Ahh!
Let go of me on
the count of three.
One, two--
Aah! Stop it! Ow!
-Kid: Get over here, shorty.
-Candy: F-ing stop!
Ugh, what a fucking night.
Oh god, now it's even worse.
We're goin' to stay
with Uncle Ding Dong,
even though he
has a mink farm
in his living room.
It's better than
staying with you,
‘cause you're the worst.
I will not sleep
in this house
for one more night
with a traitor!
Well,
I totally agree!
I was just coming home
to kick you guys out!
I can't believe the shit
you pulled at Santa's party!
You're the traitors!
-(knock on window)
-Snowman: Candy,
I finally found you.
-Snowie?
-I've been sitting in
Santa's office so long,
I lost my sense
of direction.
But I have
to tell you,
yesterday,
I heard Santa say
who he's choosing
as a Successor.
Crazy, right?
Yes, crazy,
and a name, please?
Oh my gosh,
I forgot to say.
I've been in that
globe so long,
my social skills
are a bit cloudy.
Goddammit,
Snowie, who is it?
Santa's choosing you!
Now I'm going
to make up
for lost time.
I've been craving
a cobb salad
for 17 years.
(screaming)
Wah!
I did it. I won.
I'm going down in history.
Everybody's a sucker but me!
You just can't get a good
cobb salad in a snow globe.
-Gotcha, ya icy bastard!
-Ahh! No!
(toys whirring)
(joyful music playing)
(toys whirring)
♪
♪
♪