A Christmas Tale (Sagan om Karl-Bertil Jonssons julafton)

A CHRISTMAS TALE

Once upon a time, long ago, in a world that looked very different from ours...

No, not that different.

But back when you could watch matinées at movie theaters.

Sitting in one of the city's theaters was Karl-Bertil Jonsson.

Robin Hood!

This was back when a 14-year-old's idol worship

wasn't necessarily of a sexual nature.

Get them, Robin! You can do it!

Quiet, boy!

Heroism.

Fair maidens.

Comradeship and healthy outdoor activities.

Those were some attributes that for Karl-Bertil Jonsson

seemed like the greatest things life had to offer.

And of course, the main principle among outlaws:

To steal from the rich and give to the poor.

Anyone seen Marion?

DON'T MISS HESEKIEL RAFT AS ROBIN HOOD

There were as many horses as cars in the cities,

and people still looked each other in the eyes,

since they didn't have cell phones.

Use your eyes, sonny!

You could also see poor people.

There was no shame in being poor.

Christmas was approaching, causing a hectic surge in business activity.

This made the rich business tycoons even richer,

and the poor sods even poorer.

And the inventive became even more inventive.

- It's for you, Esther. - An apple!

In the days leading up to Christmas,

the Royal Postal Service employed students,

to work all night, since the regular employees stopped working at 5 p.m.

Hurry up!

It was important for everyone to get their packages by Christmas Eve.

What do you know, a new mailman.

Karl-Bertil Jonsson didn't mind sorting through incoming packages.

Move. This is my spot now. You'll have to stand over there.

Shoo!

On the contrary, he rather enjoyed earning some money of his own.

At 4 in the morning, Karl-Bertil Jonsson broke his final wrapped crystal vase

against the Royal Postal Service's concrete floor, and headed home.

Karl-Bertil!

See you tomorrow!

Four-eyes!

You need to learn to fight back.

But it doesn't do any good.

Yes. Just tense up your hand and swing it... I'm sorry.

Oh my, you're okay, right?

You're fine. You're fine.

Firewood! Get your birch firewood here!

I'll get some firewood. I want you to lock the car doors and sit still.

- Sure. - Good.

Good evening. Here we go again.

I see some half bags, you don't have anything bigger?

"Little John, listen. Let's attack the Sheriff's men from the oak tree."

"Ha-ha, it'll be my breakfast."

"Oh Lord in heaven! I can never climb that!"

"Meanwhile, Marion couldn't stop thinking about the secretive stranger."

"The good Robin Hood saved my life. Will I ever get to see him again?"

"The good Robin Hood saved my life."

"Will I ever get to see him again?"

First-rate birch firewood!

Pretend like I'm not here.

Have you seen a young girl with a brown beret?

How young?

What do you have there?

Well, Robin Hood.

Robin Hood? That's a great role model for upstanding boys.

Sorry to bother you. Happy holidays.

I can't figure out where that thieving little rascal went.

Andersson, to the docks.

Thank you. My hero.

- Hey! My comic! - Didn't I tell you to stay in the car?

- But she took... - They'll snatch your watch from you.

- But hey... - There.

Maybe you feel pity for Karl-Bertil now.

But there's no reason to pity him.

He came from a wealthy family,

and his father Tyko Jonsson owned the city's department store.

- You're really strong. - I can carry more.

He got wealthier every day, from table runners and sparklers.

Beata? J'espère que vous avez réussi à réveiller Karl-Bertil, hein,

et qu'il s'est enfui.

- A-t-il eu un bon petit déjeuner? - Jawohl.

Dear employees, this year's final accounts surprise... exceed...

According to the annual report... So many words!

Dear employees, this year's final accounts exceed all...

According to the annual report...

Thank you, Beata.

Ronds de serviette en bois de poirier pour tante Märta.

What I said was, is Karl-Bertil ready to depart?

I don't know. It's hard to understand when Madam speaks French.

It's just to help Beata learn the language before we go to Antibes this summer.

Make a sandwich and I'll go get Karl-Bertil.

Who knows? Maybe you'll meet yourself a fiancé down there.

- I don't need a fiancé. - Karl-Bertil?!

- How's it going with your speech? - I have a cheat sheet.

So it should be fine. How's it going with the glögg party invitations?

Almost no one has RSVP'd this year either, Tyko.

I guess you and I aren't fancy enough.

Just wait until they hear about the quarterly report.

- Then they'll come running. - You think so?

You can bet your last dime on it, my little pearl pickle.

But the glögg party is only a few days from now.

Hang on a second, I'll just go get Karl-Bertil.

Karl-Bertil?

Rosenqvist...

Karl-Bertil, please, your father's waiting!

What was that?

Just a car.

This is a very pretty car. Nice paint job, too.

What make is it?

A rare make. I don't know the name.

Hurry up!

...pantalons sont rouges.

To offer an ice cream.

Pour offrir une glace.

Poucher offrir une glace?

Poucher offrir une glace?

Merci beaucoup!

You forgot this. And now don't forget what a real Jonsson always does.

Make money?

No! Your best.

Mr. and Mrs. Rosenqvist! Good morning!

What a lovely winter day we got today.

Everyone's here, as you requested, Director.

One day you'll be standing here yourself.

Well, then...

"Eight kilos ground beef..."

What the heck...

Dear...store employees.

We're approaching the days

that cause our eyes to sparkle more than usual.

Simply put, the time of year

when Jesus Christ in the manger

sells more than ever.

I want to see polishing and cleaning,

puttering, packaging and rummaging of epic proportions!

This way...

we can all help... to...

...to make sure that every fellow person,

like the Three Wise Men,

can purchase the very finest Christmas present for their fellow man.

Merry Christmas, everybody!

They applaud whatever I say.

- Well, what did you think, Berntsson? - Incredibly inspiring, Director.

I should say so.

I brought Karl-Bertil to assist with picking out this year's toy.

- Then we'll hold off on today's mail. - No, darn it!

We have no time to waste. Read aloud.

"Dear Director Jonsson, we are very pleased to inform you..."

Come have a look, Karl-Bertil.

See if you can find some amusing contraption here.

Last year, the steam engine was a formidable success,

but what will it be this year?

A car that you can wind up?

Or a circus monkey that drives around somehow... What do you say?

- It's not easy. - But you're a child. You're an expert.

"We can inform you that we've selected you, Tyko Jonsson..."

This, for example. It's fun.

How do you...

Manufacturing error. Remedy that immediately.

That's enough! Keep reading.

"...inform you that we've selected you, Tyko Jonsson,

as the city's benefactor, because of your commitment..."

What the heck? Benefactor?

I'm not some benefactor!

- Find out what that nonsense is about. - Certainly, Director.

I can't find anything.

No, it was a mistake to bring you here.

I'll ask Ruben to drive you to the post office.

- What's that? - That's an outrage.

2,500 faulty bed springs from Germany.

They'll be returned.

But this is fun.

I need a smoke.

Director...

Director? Director!

It's about the accounting!

- I've discovered the error. - Well?

We've paid out a barely noticeable amount

to Mrs. Hedqvist's orphanage every month.

It must have gotten mixed up with your gentlemen's club... Hedqvist's Bar.

Some small clerical error must have snuck in there...

- Halt the payments immediately. - Certainly, Director!

Do I look like this year's Santa Claus?

Well, bowl me over with a pine cone.

It's none other than HK Bergdahl.

You know, that character who's too fancy to even say good day.

Good day!

May I wish a fellow brother Merry Christmas?

I wish you the same.

Perhaps I could hope to see you

at our garden party in Menton next summer?

S'il vous plaît.

Au revoir.

You see, Menton...

Well now, HK Bergdahl.

Now remember what a real Jonsson always does.