Family Guy

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for happy American Christmas and time of wonder.

I must.

Have. That. Toy.

What, are you serious?

Of course I'm serious, I'm a child

and I just saw a commercial!

Or maybe you don't want me to have

a happy American Christmas.

Of course I do. But do you really not

see that you're crassly manifesting

the very consumerism on which Christmas is built?

Chris, can you please put the dog out?

Yes, sir!

Thank you, Chris.

Hey!

It's very cold out here.

Okay, everyone, time to leave for the traditional

town tree lighting ceremony.

What's happening now? I can't hear her.

Sweet. Tree lighting.

Guess that means it's showtime.

Wait, what is this?

Oh, nothing.

Just my own tradition

of putting four dozen hard-boiled eggs

in a Kroger bag and passing them out at the tree lighting.

Okay, we get it, Meg, you're dark and different.

Wow, Meg really is dark and different.

Yeah, they call me "Meg the Egg."

'Cause of my big bag of eggs.

I hope you guys don't start calling me that,

but you can if you want to.

Oh, is this the "Meg the Egg" thing?

Yeah, no one's on board with that.

Whoa, Quahog!

Whoa, there! Whoa!

Whoa.

Welcome, one and all,

to the annual tree lighting ceremony.

All right, Meg the Egg!

Huevo me!

Mmm, perfect yolks this year.

Four and a half minutes.

Now, don't you worry, y'all will have a chance to line up

and meet Santy and let him know what dry goods you need.

And right here in front of City Hall,

I'm placing this wooden nativity scene that I whittled myself

from a beech tree what was rat-tailed

by lightning in the recent meteorological electricities.

Oh, great, just what we need.

A religious display on government property.

Can't believe this is what my tax dollars are paying for.

Last I heard, you never paid taxes in your life.

Only 'cause I've never made enough money! Ha!

Brian, I can laugh at a lot of things,

but Jesus Christ is not two of them.

Yeah, come on, Brian, it's Christmas.

Have an egg. Enjoy yourself.

Okay, now to light the Christmas tree

by telling this child's toy

my mother's maiden name.

Abernathy.

Yay! Very holiday data information!

I guess Santa's getting ready to rack up

those frequent flyer miles, huh?

Yeah, we all read your tweets, Joe.

Smash that "like" button.

Hey, check it out, Peter, it's Ebenezer Pooch.

We should mess with him by putting only

Christmas songs on the jukebox.

Cleveland, I got just the song.

Wait, what the hell is this?

Only the best Christmas song ever.

I tell you, no matter when I hear this baby,

I start smelling pine.

Joe, this is not a holiday song.

He never once mentions Christmas!

No, it's about Santa.

All night long.

On the highway... delivering presents.

The video takes place in a field!

In what is clearly summer!

Quagmire, many parts of the world are

arid during the holy season.

Including where Jesus was born.

Or perhaps the singer's Australian.

He's not Australian!

He name-checks Vancouver in the song!

A guy from Australia can't know where Vancouver is?

Feels kind of racist.

Mm-hmm.

Damn it, Joe! We're supposed to be annoying Brian!

Not this!

Oh, okay, I get it.

Everybody pile on the one person

who actually sees the truth about Christmas.

You know, you guys know all-- what this holiday

is all about, right? It's all about this.

The world's smallest violin?

A scrotal massage?

"Ah, just like in the old country"?

We're more word people than gesture people.

No! Money!

It's all about money!

Is Christmas really so awful?

I don't know, I-I just-- I can't stand how everyone buys

into this annual mass hypnosis.

I mean, like, do not even get me started on Christmas caroling.

No, go ahead. I'm listening.

No, that's-that's what I mean.

Like, do not get me started.

Trust me, you, you will be here all night.

I've got time. I'm officially getting you started.

Name one thing.

I mean, where do I start?

The things I have to say

about caroling. It's like, how long have you got?

I've got all night, no one to go home to-- let's hear it.

Yeah, okay... well, I mean, first there's the...

you know, the singing.

You know what, screw you guys!

All right, screw Frosty!

Screw Vince Guaraldi!

Screw both Rankin and Bass!

Well, I'm with him on Rankin, but, come on, what did Bass do?

Stupid Christmas.

What kind of name is Blitzen anyway, what is that?

That's like-- that's not a name... it's a football...

something.

Aah! Son of a bitch!

Oh, crap. Why couldn't I have hit

the court-ordered menorah instead?

Thank you!

Aw, crap, this is bad, this is bad.

After all I said, they-they'll probably call this a hate crime.

I've just got to hide the evidence.

Ah, I wish someone was here to try to take this from me,

'cause I'd be all like...

No way, you! This is mine!

Now where can I hide an old, banged-up car

where it'll just blend right in?

I knew this would work.

Especially after that last flight I took.

Spirit Airlines is now boarding group whatever.

Just start punching until you're on an airplane.

Good afternoon, I'm Tom Tucker.

Our top story: Ho-ho-homeless man

found dead in local alleyway.

But first we're joined live by Mayor Wild West

outside City Hall, who reports that the town

nativity scene he personally whittled has gone missing.

Mayor West, what can you tell us about the disappearance

and also about my contested parking ticket,

and I'll remind you the tree limb was blocking the sign.

That tree was a hardwood, Mr. Tucker,

and there wouldn't have been a leaf on it till mid-May.

The printing of the restricted times

was also faded, and as to the investigation?

Whoever took that nativity scene best sleep

with one eye open, 'cause I'm on your trail.

And I'm gonna hunt you down like the mighty

grizzly hunts a Slim Jim left on the dashboard of a Ford Taurus.

I regret that the West has changed.

Ah, now I want a Slim Jim. Slim Jim, anyone?

Slim Jim? Never google what's in it? Slim Jim?

That's rather odd. Who would steal...

a nativity scene?

Want to tell me what's going on, champ?

What? Nothing.

Brian, I can tell when you're lying, because your voice always

gets high at the end of your sentences.

That's nuts, you don't know what you're

talking about!

Okay, fine!

Yes, it was me. I destroyed the nativity scene with my car.

But you've got to keep your mouth shut about this.

I could be in a lot of trouble. I already hid the evidence.

Did you at least do it right?

You burned all the pieces

and sank your car in a lake?

No, I parked it in the Spirit Airlines parking lot...

Oh, because they all drive crappy cars.

That's smart, that's smart. Well, not to worry.

You and I will just leave town