Santa Inc.

All right, good job, guys.

Make sure those are stacked in order of continents.

And keep the puppies away from the kittens,

and the kittens away from the goldfish.

And make sure the reptiles-- Sweet American Jesus!

This lizard is dead!

Come on, guys! It's Christmas fuckin' Eve!

There's no time for amateur hour here.

Now, get another one before Tiffany Chang from Tallahassee

loses her shit.

Halloween? Bullshit.

Easter? Fuck that stupid bunny.

May Day? What the fuck is May Day?

This is The Big One. The X-Games, X-Caliber,

it's X-Mas, baby, and that X

is for X-tra X-traordinary!

Santa chose me as his successor

because I know how to run this place,

and get the best outta you guys.

And I think you guys are the best.

You come from a long line of distinguished reindeer

who have performed valiantly on Christmas Eve for hundreds of years.

Dasher... Comet... Blitzen...

And Junior, the son of the greatest of them all. Fashionably late.

Let me just get right up front here in the driver's seat.

Who's ready to smell Junior's ass tonight?

Ha, ha, ha, ha!

Now let's get those fucking kids their presents

in record time this year.

The Lady Candy, my second-in-command.

I'd be nothing without you.

You are a fucking rock star!

After tonight, I insist that you go to a hotel room and trash it.

I will do it! I will drug groupies!

I will shit on the bed!

I will fuck a baby shark,

and bite its head off.

Ha, ha! Woo!

Okay, take it down a notch.

May I present the Sultan of the Sleigh Ride,

The Thunda from the Tundra,

the hardest-working man in "snow" biz.

-(chanting "Santa") -Good golly, he's jolly!

Our own Santa Claus...!

Hey! Merry Christmas, Feliz Navidad.

Hey, good to see you. How are you?

Whoa, you're on my naughty list.

Good news, sir, only 8% of kids under 10 don't believe in you.

That's down from 12% last year.

Wow!

More American kids believe in you

than they do in vaccines or the Holocaust.

That's great!

I mean, disheartening for America,

but great for us.

Announcer: Sleigh launch commencing in T-minus 10...

-Merry Christmas! -(countdown continues)

And to all a kick-ass night!

Peace!

Announcer: ...one, zero.

We are a go. Repeat, Christmas is a go.

Weather's rough all over tonight, kids.

Veer left towards Manhattan.

Winds are coming in at a gentle 15 miles per hour

above the Empire State Building so--

It's happening!

The anti-Christmas pigeons are out.

They've already shit on the Rockefeller Center tree.

Candy: Those fucking assholes.

It's like they save up a year's worth of shit

for this one day.

Send in the fighter jets!

Bread drop over Central Park Sheep's Meadow.

Let's make it rain carbs, kids.

How many sleeping pills we got in the bread?

-Upwards of a thousand, ma'am. -Great.

These turtle doves will be down for all 12 days of Christmas.

-Stop, stop. It was nothing. -(cheering stops)

No, hey, I'm lying. It was very much my idea.

I killed it. Keep clapping.

Good morning, emotional vampires.

My day's gonna be insane.

Brent and I have to go through all the thank you notes,

-the hate mail-- -My day's gonna be pretty intense, too, actually.

Probably somethin' we should pay attention to.

Oh, really? Oh, what's going on with you today, Tony?

You have to cut your toenails? Is it that time of year again?

I'm laying down tracks on a new Christmas song.

Did you ever play my last one for Santa?

That crap? No chance.

Candy, don't be mean to your brother.

His father died when he was a very young child.

Yeah, I know. He was actually my father, too.

Oh, wow. Someone's dead-dad-greedy.

Speakin' of, I dedicate this sick shit to my dead pops.

May the stale gumdrop that fell on him

and crushed his head burn in hell.

Hey!

I was catfishin' an eight!

I'm gonna finish that abortion Mom tried to have 35 years ago!

-Ahh! -(grunting)

Help! My son's being attacked!

Somebody help us!

-(punching) -(grunting)

Candy: Crash somewhere else, grifters.

Thank you notes are coming in.

Kids love their presents.

Another Christmas gone perfectly.

Woo! Woo! This is why I brag to everyone

that we're BFFs.

-(dings) -Back off! No high-fives from anyone but me!

-Grr. -Candy, I don't know how you deal with

all these clingy, needy types.

I really don't.

Hey, hey. What's goin' on?

I'm so frustrated.

None of us B-Team Women

got called up to the sleigh.

Again.

We train hard every day of the year

just to sit on the fucking bench every Christmas Eve.

It doesn't mean you're not as vital to the system

as any one of those dudes.

I guess.

And if you want, honestly,

I will slit Junior's throat next year

so you can lead the team.

I swear to God, just give me the word,

-and I will cut him. -(Goldie laughs)

On the positive side,

your body is sick!

You right.

All this training does make me

a monster in the sack.

I had a three-way with Prancer and his girlfriend last night,

: and no one was complaining.

Oh my god. Your life is amazing.

-Hot deets! -Well, we did it

reindeer style, doggy style,

koala style-- the girlfriend is Australian.

And it's a good thing Prancer's not Santa

because his dick was as thick as a chimney.

Ooh, yeah, gimme some more of that vicarious shit.

Eh, I'm late for weight training,

-but thanks for cheerin' me up, guys. -See ya.

So, I had this insane dream last night

that I was actually wearing Santa's suit--

Oh, a dream? Must be nice.

I don't have dreams anymore

because I don't ever sleep

because for some reason,

I wanted to be a wife and mother.

Oh, I'm sorry, Fun Size.

You know I love you, baby, right?

Right? Answer me!

Why isn't he answering?! Is he dead?!

Uh, I don't know. He's blue and not breathing, so maybe.

Call 911! Help my baby!

I'm just fucking with you.

He's asleep, you psycho.

Oh, okay, good.

Being a mom is so hard.

Take my advice, Candy. Never have kids.

Wasn't planning on it.

Oh, really? That makes me sad.

You'd be such a good mom.

Promise me you'll think about it.

Okay, gotta drop this fucker off at daycare.

Byeee!

-Morning, Jeremy. Brent in yet? -Shush!

Retweeting a retweet from an influencer

regarding helping our world.

All done. Brent's not in.

Grab me a coffee? Thank you.

Come on, man. You're the assistant.

Grab me a coffee. Get me a scone, too.

Unless they're all maple because gross. Fuck maple.

-This is harassment. -(alarm sounds)

Jingle Jim: All employees, this is your

Chief of Staff, Jingle Jim.

Gather at the Campus Square

for an announcement by Santa.

This is not a drill.

I'm sure it's just a drill.

Shut up and gather at the Square!

What up? What up?

Love you. Love you.

Mad at you. Love you.

Pumping her boobs in public? God.

It's called a tit!

Your Mom has two of 'em.

Deal with it, bro.

Could there be one nursing room in this place?

I have to get up there.

How do I look?

Goldie, come here.