♪♪

MARGE:

Ooh! Careful, Homer!

HOMER:

There’s no time to be careful. We’re late.

(tires screeching)

CHILDREN:

♪ O little town of Bethlehem ♪

♪ How still we see thee lie ♪

MARGE (whispering):

Sorry. Excuse me. Pardon me.

-Sorry. Excuse me.

-Hey, Norman, how’s it goin'?

So you got dragged down here

too, huh?

-How you doin’, Fred?

-Sorry. Excuse me.

-Yeah. ‘Scuse me. Oh!

-(yelps)

Pardon my galoshes.

(laughs)

♪ Are met in thee tonight ♪

(applause)

(laughs)

Wasn’t that wonderful?

And now

“Santas of Many Lands,”

as presented by the entire

second grade class.

Oh! Lisa’s class.

Frohliche Weihnachten.

That’s German for

“Merry Christmas.”

In Germany,

Santa’s servant Ruprecht

gives presents

to good children,

and whipping rods

to the parents of bad ones.

(applause)

Merry Kurisumasu.

I am Hotseiosha,

a Japanese priest

who acts like Santa Claus.

I have eyes

in the back of my head,

so children better behave

when I’m nearby.

(audience gasps)

Now presenting

Lisa Simpson

as Tawanga, the Santa Claus

of the South Seas.

HOMER: Ooh, it’s Lisa!

That’s ours.

(drums beating,

natives chanting)

(applause)

Ah, the fourth grade

will now favor us

with a melody–

Uh, medley

of holiday “flavorites.”

♪ Dashing through the snow ♪

♪ In a one-horse

open sleigh ♪

♪ O’er the fields we go ♪

♪ Laughing all the way,

ha ha ha ♪

♪ Bells on bobtail ring ♪

-♪♪ (continues)

-Isn’t Bart sweet, Homer?

He sings like an angel.

♪ Oh, Jingle bells,

Batman smells ♪

♪ Robin laid an egg ♪

♪ The Batmobile

broke its wheel ♪

♪ The Joker got awa–♪

(screams)

♪ Jingle bells

Jingle bells ♪

♪ Jingle all… ♪

SKINNER (clears throat):

The fifth grade will now favor us

with a scene from

Charles… Dickens’

“A Christmas Carol.”

(groans) How many grades

does this school have?

MARGE’S VOICE:

“Dear friends of the Simpson family,

“We had some sadness and

some gladness this year.

“First, the sadness.

Our little cat Snowball

“was unexpectedly run over

and went to kitty heaven.

“But we bought a new little cat,

Snowball II.

-(meow)

-“So I guess life goes on.

“Speaking of life going on,

“Grandpa is still with us,

feisty as ever.

“Maggie is walking

by herself,

“Lisa got straight A’s,

and Bart–

“Well, we love Bart.

“The magic of the season

has touched us all.

Marge, haven’t you finished

that stupid letter yet?

-“Homer sends his love. Happy holidays.

-Marge!

-The Simpsons.”

-Marge, where’s the extension cord?

For heaven’s sake, Homer.

It’s in the utility drawer.

Sorry.

I’m just a big kid.

And I love Christmas

so much.

D’oh!

(grumbles)

All right, children,

let me have those letters.

I’ll send them to Santa’s workshop

at the North Pole.

Oh, please. There’s only one fat guy

that brings us presents,

and his name

ain’t Santa.

Uh– A pony?

Oh, Lisa, you’ve asked for that

for the last three years,

and I keep telling you

Santa can’t fit a pony

into his sleigh.

Can’t you take a hint?

But I really want a pony,

and I’ve been really,

really good this year.

Oh, dear. Maybe Bart is

a little more realistic.

-A tattoo?

-A what?

Yeah! They’re cool,

and they last the rest of your life.

You will not be getting

a tattoo for Christmas.

Yeah. If you want one,

you’ll have to pay for it

out of your own allowance.

-All right!

-Homer!

-(phone ringing)

-“Yello.”

-PATTY: Marge, please.

-Who’s this?

May I please speak to Marge?

-This is her sister, isn’t it?

-Is Marge there?

-Who shall I say is calling?

-Marge, please.

-It’s your sister.

-Oh!

-Hello.

-Hello, Marge. It’s Patty.

Selma and I couldn’t be

more excited

about seeing our baby sister

for Christmas Eve.

Well, Homer and I

are looking forward

to your visit too.

(gagging)

Somehow I doubt

that Homer is excited.

Of all the men

you could’ve married,

I don’t know why you picked one

who’s always so rude to us.

-(screams)

-Good one, Dad. (applauds)

Okay, kids,

prepare to be dazzled.

Marge, turn on the juice!

(electricity crackling)

-(pop)

-What do you think, kids?

-Nice try, Dad.

-(groans)

FLANDERS: Just hold

your horses, son. Hey, Simpson!

What is it, Flanders?

Do you think

this looks okay?

Ho ho ho.

Ho ho ho.

-Oh!

-Oh, neato!

It’s too bright.

I oughta– Flanders.

What a big show-off.

-Kids, you wanna go Christmas shopping?

-I do!

-All right! The mall!

-Go get your money.

Tell us, Marge.

Where have you been hiding

the Christmas money?

Oh, I have my secrets.

Turn around.

(jingling)

You can look now.

Ooh! Big jar this year.

(horns honking,

tires screeching)

(train whistle)

♪♪ (Christmas Muzak)

Oh, Bart,

that’s so sweet.

It’s the best present

a mother could get,

and it makes you look

so dangerous.

-(doorbell jingling)

-One “Mother,” please.

Wait a minute.

How old are you?

-Twenty-one, sir.

-Get in the chair.

♪♪ (Christmas Muzak)

Mm-hmm.

Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.

-Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.

-(beeping)

SMITHERS: Attention,

all personnel, please keep working

during the following announcement.

And now our boss

and friend Mr. Burns.

MR. BURNS: Hello.

I’m proud to announce

that we’ve been able

to increase safety here at the plant

without increasing the cost

to the consumer

or affecting management

pay raises.

However, for you

semi-skilled workers,

there will be

no Christmas bonuses.

(all grumbling)

Oh, and one more thing.

Merry Christmas!

-(mumbling)

-Oh, thank God for the big jar.

-Where’s that Bart?

-(Bart screams)

-(drill whirring)

-(doorbell jingling)

(gasps)

But, Mom,

I thought you’d like it.

Yes, Mrs. Simpson,

we can remove your son’s tattoo.

It’s a simple routine

involving lasers.

-Cool!

-However, it is rather expensive,

and we must insist

on a cash payment up front.

-Cash?

-Mm-hmm.

Thank God for

Homer’s Christmas bonus.

Ay, caramba!

Now, whatever you do,

boy, don’t squirm.

You don’t wanna get this sucker

near your eye or your groin.

-(gunshots on TV)

-Ow! Quit it.

Ow! Quit it.

Ow! Quit it.

-Ow! Quit it.

-Hey, what’s with this?

Ow! Quit it!

Used to be

a real boss tattoo.

But Mom had to spend

all the Christmas money

having it surgically removed.

Huh?

(gasps)

It’s true!

The jar is empty!

Oh, my God!

We’re ruined.

Christmas is canceled.

No presents for anyone!

Don’t worry, Homer.

We’ll just have to stretch

your Christmas bonus

-even further this year.

-(gasps)

-Homer?

-Oh, yeah.

My Christmas bonus.

(chuckles)

How silly of me.

This’ll be the best

Christmas yet.

The best any family

ever had.

(laughs)

Ho ho ho.

Ho ho ho.

Ho ho ho.

Ho ho ho.

Ho ho ho.

Hmm. I get the feeling

there’s something you

haven’t told me, Homer.

Huh? Oh. I love you, Marge.

You tell me that

all the time.

Oh, good,

because I do love you.

I don’t deserve you as much

as a guy with a fat wallet

and a credit card that won’t

set off that horrible beeping.

I think it does have

something to do with

your Christmas bonus.

I keep asking for it,

but–

Marge, um,

let me be honest with you.

Yes?

Well, I would–

I wanna do the Christmas

shopping this year.

Uh, sure, okay.

HOMER: Marge, Marge.

Hmm. Let’s see.

Ooh, look!

Pantyhose.

Practical and alluring.

A six-pack.

Oh! Only 4.99.

Ooh! Pads of paper.

I bet Bart can think of

a million things to do

with these.

That just leaves

little Maggie.

Oh, look!

A little squeak toy.

It says it’s for dogs,

but she can’t read.

Ow! Oh, Simpson,

it’s you.

-Hello, Flanders.

-Oh, my!

What a little mess

we’ve got here.

Well, which ones are yours

and which ones are mine?

-Well, let’s see–

-Oh, this one’s mine. This one’s mine.

-This one’s mine, and this–

-They’re all yours!

Hey, Mr. Simpson,

you dropped your pork chop.

(squeaking)

Gimme that!

Well, happy holidays,

Simpson.

Gee, Dad, this is gonna be

the best Christmas ever.

(chuckles)

You bet.

What’s the matter, Homer?

Somebody leave a lump of coal

in your stocking?

You’ve been sitting there,

sucking on a beer all day long.

-So?

-So, it’s Christmas.

-♪♪ (jukebox)

-Thanks, Moe.

Drinks all around!

What’s with

the crazy getup, Barn?

I got me a part-time job

working as a Santa

down at the mall.

Wow! Can I do that?

I don’t know. They’re pretty selective.

(belches)

Do you like children?

What do you mean?

All the time?

Even when they’re nuts?

-Hmm.

-Uh, I certainly do.

Welcome aboard, Simpson.

Pending your successful completion

of our training program, that is.

ALL: Ho ho ho.

Ho ho ho.

Ho ho ho.

Ho ho ho.

-What is it now, Simpson?

-Uh, when do we get paid?

Not a dime till

Christmas Eve!

Now, from the top.

ALL: Ho ho ho.

Ho ho ho.

Um, Dasher.

-Dancer.

-Mm-hmm.

-Prancer.

-Mm-hmm.

Nixon.

Comet and… Cupid.

-Donna Dixon?

-Sit down, Simpson.

And what would you like,

little boy?

-You’re not really Santa, tubby.

-Why, you little egghead!

No, no, Homer! If such

an emergency arises,

you just tell them Santa’s

very busy this time of year,

and you are

one of his helpers.

Oh, I knew that one too!

Homer, why are you

seven hours late?

Not a word, Marge.

I’m heading straight for the tub.

But, Homer,

my sisters are here.

-Don’t you wanna say hello?

-(shuddering)

(groaning)

-Daddy! Daddy! We’re so glad to see you!

-Oh, Dad, you’re finally home!

What? Why?

Oh, yeah.

Hello, Patty.

Hello, Selma.

-How was your trip?

-Fine.

-You both look well.

-Thank you.

HOMER: Yeah, well,

Merry Christmas.

It’s Christmas?

-You wouldn’t know it around here.

-And why is that?

Well, for one thing,

there’s no tree.

Well, I was just on my way

out to get one!

-Can we go too, Dad?

-Yeah, can we?

No!

♪ Sleigh bells ring ♪

♪ Are you listening ♪

♪ In the lane ♪

♪ Snow is glistening ♪

♪ A beautiful sight ♪

♪ We’re happy tonight ♪

♪ Walking in

a winter wonderland ♪♪

(chain saw buzzing)

MAN: Hey, you! What do you

think you’re doin'?

-Uh-oh.

-MAN: Hey! Hey!

-Come back here!

-(dogs barking, gunshots)

So what do you think, kids?

Beauty, isn’t it?

-Wow! Yay, Dad!

-Way to go, Dad!

Why is there

a birdhouse in it?

Uh, that’s an ornament.

(sniffs)

Do I smell gunpowder?

BOY: And then I want

some Robotoids.

And then I want

a Goop Monster.

And then I want

a great big, giant–

Aw, son, you don’t need

all that junk.

I’m sure you’ve already got something

much more important–

a decent home and

a loving father

who would do

anything for you.

Hey, I couldn’t afford lunch.

Give me a bite of that donut.

(shutter clicks)

Get a load of that

quote-unquote Santa.

I can’t believe those kids

are falling for it.

Hey, Milhouse, I dare you

to sit on his lap.

Oh, yeah? Well, I dare you

to yank his beard off.

Ah, touche.

I hope you feel better,

Santa.

Oh, I will when

Mrs. Claus’ sisters get outta town.

Thanks for listenin’, kid.

(strains, gasps)

Hey, Santa,

what’s shakin’, man?

What’s your name,

Bart… ner?

Uh, little partner?

I’m Bart Simpson.

Who the hell are you?

I’m Jolly Old St. Nick.

Oh, yeah?

We’ll just see about that.

-D’oh!

-(shutter clicks)

-Homer!

-I want a word with you

in Santa’s workshop, little boy.

Cover for me, Elfie.

Don’t kill me, Dad.

I didn’t know it was you.

Nobody knows.

It’s a secret.

I didn’t get my bonus this year.

But to keep the family

from missing out on Christmas,

-I’d do anything.

-I’ll say, Dad.

You must really love us

to sink so low.

Now, let’s not

get mushy, son.

I still have a job to do.

Hey, little ones.

Santa’s back.

Ho ho– D’oh!

Damn it to– (groaning)

Ah, son, one day

you’re gonna know

the satisfaction of payday.

Receiving a big fat check

for a job well done.

Simpson, Homer?

Here ya go.

Come on, son.

Let’s go cash this baby

and get presents for–

(screams) Thirteen bucks?

Hey, wait a minute.

That’s right.

$120 gross.

Less Social Security,

less unemployment insurance,

-less Santa training–

-Santa training?

Less costume purchase,

less beard rental, less Christmas club.

-But– But–

-See ya next year.

-Ohh!

-Come on, Dad. Let’s go home.

Thirteen bucks?

You can’t get anything

for 13 bucks.

All right!

Thirteen big ones!

Springfield Downs,

here I come!

-What?

-You heard me.

I’m goin’ to the dog track.

I got a hot little puppy

in the fourth race.

-Wanna come?

-Sorry, Barney.

I may be a total washout

as a father,

but I’m not gonna

take my kid

to a sleazy dog track

on Christmas Eve.

Come on, Simpson.

The dog’s name is Whirlwind.

Ten-to-one shot.

Money in the bank.

-Uh-uh.

-Ah, come on, Dad.

This can be the miracle that saves

the Simpsons’ Christmas.

If TV has taught me anything,

it’s that miracles always happen

to poor kids at Christmas.

It happened to Tiny Tim,

it happened to Charlie Brown,

it happened to the Smurfs,

and it’s gonna happen to us.

Well, okay, let’s go.

Who’s Tiny Tim?

ELF (on TV): Hey, Moldy,

do you think Santa will be able to find

Elf County

under all this snow?

I doubt it, Bubbles.

We’ll be sad little elves

this Christmas.

-Oh, no!

-Oh, brother.

-Where’s your husband?

-Yeah. It’s getting late.

Said he went caroling

with Bart.

BART/BARNEY:

♪ We’re in the money ♪

♪ We got a lot of what it takes

to get along ♪♪

I can’t believe I’m doing this.

Can we open

our presents now, Dad?

You know the tradition, son.

Not till the eighth race.

Hey, Barney,

which one is Whirlwind?

Number Six.

That’s our lucky dog

right over there.

He’s won

his last five races.

What? That scrawny little

bag of bones?

Come on, Dad. They’re all

scrawny little bags of bones.

Yeah, you’re right.

(sighs)

I guess Whirlwind

is our only hope

for a Merry Christmas.

MAN (on P.A.): Attention,

racing fans, we have a late scratch

in the fourth race.

Number 8, Sir Galahad

will be replaced by

Santa’s Little Helper.

Once again, Sir Galahad

has been replaced by

Santa’s Little Helper.

(gasps)

Bart, did you hear that?

What a name!

Santa’s Little Helper!

It’s a sign!

It’s an omen!

It’s a coincidence, Dad.

What are the odds

on Santa’s Little Helper?

Ninety-nine to one.

Wow! Ninety-nine

times thirteen equals…

Merry Christmas!

I got a bad feeling

about this.

-Don’t you believe in me, son?

-Uh–

Come on, boy.

Sometimes your faith

is all that keeps me going.

Oh, go for it, Dad.

That’s my boy!

Everything on

Santa’s Little Helper.

ELF:

Three cheers for Brainy!

-Hip hip hooray!

-Yay!

Unadulterated pap.

-It’s almost 9:00.

-Where’s Homer anyway?

It’s so typical of the big doofus

to spoil it all.

-What, Aunt Patty?

-Oh, nothing, dear.

I’m just trashing your father.

Well, I wish you wouldn’t

because aside from

the fact that

he has the same frailties

as all human beings,

he’s the only father I have.

Therefore, he is

my model of manhood,

and my estimation of him

will govern the prospects

of my adult relationships.

So I hope you bear in mind

that any knock at him

is a knock at me,

and I’m far too young

to defend myself

against such onslaughts.

Mm-hmm. Go watch

your cartoon show, dear.

(kissing)

Come on, Bart.

Kiss the ticket

for good luck,

not that we need it.

-(laughing)

-♪♪ (“Call To Post”)

ANNOUNCER: Here comes Screwy

the mechanical rabbit.

-(bell ringing)

-And they’re off!

-Come on, Santa’s Little Helper!

-Come on, dog! Go, man, go!

It’s Whirlwind in the lead,

and coming up on the left is Quadruped,

followed by Dog O’War

and Fido.

-Go! Come on, boy!

-Go, Santa’s Little Helper!

Come on, get that rabbit!

Dog O’War coming up fast

on the outside.

-Come on, Santa’s Little Helper!

-Come on, dog! Go, man, go!

And with a lock on last place,

it’s Santa’s Little Helper.

-(screams)

-Don’t worry, Dad.

Maybe this is just for suspense

before the miracle happens.

-Come on, you stupid dog! Come on, boy!

-Go, go!

-Run! Run!

-Run! Come on, get that rabbit!

Go, go, Santa’s Little Helper!

Go, go, go!

Whirlwind by a country mile,

and in second, Chew My Shoe,

followed by Dog O’War.

(screams)

Oh, jeez!

Doesn’t seem possible,

but I guess TV has betrayed me.

I don’t wanna leave

till our dog finishes.

Ah, forget it.

Let’s go.

-Find any winners, son?

-Sorry, Dad.

Hey, hey, Simpson!

What’d I tell you?

Whirlwind! (belches)

Let’s go, Daria.

MAN: Beat it! Scram!

Get lost!

-(whining)

-You came in last for the last time!

Look, Dad, it’s Santa’s Little Helper.

And don’t come back!

Oh, no, you don’t! No, no!

Get away from me! Uh-uh!

Oh, can we keep him,

Dad, please?

But he’s a loser!

He’s pathetic! He’s–

(whines)

A Simpson.

(snoring)

Hmm. Maybe I should

call the police.

-Oh, he’ll sober up.

-Yeah. Come staggering home.

Mm-hmm.

Smelling of cheap perfume.

-(door closes)

-Homer!

-What? What the–Who the- -

-Look, everybody,

-I have a confession to make.

-This should be good.

I didn’t get

my Christmas bonus.

I tried not to let it ruin Christmas for

everybody,

but no matter

what I did–

Hey, everybody,

look what we got!

(barking)

A dog!

All right, Dad!

God bless him.

So love at first sight

is possible.

And if he runs away,

he’ll be easy to catch.

Oh, this is the best gift

of all, Homer!

-It is?

-Yes. Something to share our love

and frighten prowlers.

-What’s his name?

-Number 8–

I mean,

Santa’s Little Helper.

(shutter clicks)

♪ Rudolph the red-nosed

reindeer ♪

♪ Had a very shiny nose ♪

♪ And if you ever saw it ♪

-♪ You would even say it glows ♪

-Like a light bulb!

-HOMER: Bart!

-♪ All of the other reindeer ♪

♪ Used to laugh

and call him names ♪

-LISA: Like Shnozzola!

-HOMER: Lisa!

♪ They never let

poor Rudolph ♪

♪ Join in any

reindeer games ♪

-BART: Like strip poker!

-HOMER: I’m warning you two!

♪ Then one foggy

Christmas Eve ♪

-♪ Santa came to say ♪

-MARGE: Take it, Homer!

HOMER: ♪ Uh, Rudolph

get your nose over here ♪

-♪ So you can guide my sleigh today ♪

-GRANDPA: Oh, Homer.

♪ Then all the reindeer

loved him ♪

♪ And they shouted out

with glee ♪

♪ Rudolph the red-nosed

reindeer ♪

♪ You’ll go down

in history ♪

-BART: ♪ Like Attila the Hu– ♪♪

-HOMER: You little–

-(Bart gagging)

-(Homer growling)

-(mumbling)

-Shh.