Night Court

-Your Honor, the defendant is charged

with inciting a riot during a Christmas concert

at the Central Park Bird Sanctuary.

-Your Honor, my client was merely trying

to put on a holiday concert

where the birds could tweet along

or land on your shoulder

like we've been promised by cartoons.

-Instead, the music turned our feathered friends

into killing machines.

I would show you the photos, but -- hoo! --

you would never eat chicken again.

According to this report,

there are injuries to 12 drummers drumming,

11 pipers...piping?

10 lords a-leaping.

They wrecked the latte bar.

Dan?

And a partridge --

Objection! Scrooge.

Don't hide that baritone

under a bunch of bah humbug, Counselor.

Merry Christmas to all.

And to you, $1,000 fine.

-Just a little something to show my appreciation

at this special time. -Aw!

-Mine's empty. -Mine, too.

Unless...

did you blow a kiss in here, you scoundrel?

No, it's not my fault

that the city outlawed gift giving

between municipal workers.

Fingers crossed next year they ban small talk,

so I'll never have to answer "Sup, big man?" again.

Sup, big man?

-Don't think I forgot my favorite judge.

I know it's empty.

But don't worry.

Even without gifts, we're still gonna do

something special for the holidays.

I signed us up for a Christmas escape room.

We got the invitation.

Rather unsettling that the only two RSVP options

were "yes" and "hell yes."

-It's Titanic themed. The only other option was

Escape from Santa's Workshop, but I did that one,

and I got in trouble for not trying to escape.

-Wait. We have to be there in three hours?

No way!

I mean, if Julianne was here, maybe.

But she's at her anger-management group's

Christmas dinner.

None of the food requires knives.

With Murray filling in, you might as well cancel.

I mean, it takes him two hours

just to do his pre-trial warmups.

-I prosecute with every inch of my body.

I will be damned if I'm gonna pull a muscle

and let A.I. take my job.

-Hey! New coat, these are my friends.

Friends, this is my new coat.

-Where was this energy when I introduced you to my new hat?

-The girls got this for me as an early Christmas gift.

All I had to do was pay for it, wrap it,

and then pretend to like the stuff they actually got me.

-Wyatt, just so you know, we need to move fast tonight.

-Hold up. Did you just put your coat under mine?

Did I?

I was listening to the judge talk about moving fast tonight.

-It's just a strange thing to do,

given there are a number of open hooks.

-This is the opposite of moving fast.

-You know what? It is a bit odd.

Well, even if all the hooks were full,

you would go on top of a coat that was already there.

Nobody goes under a pre-existing coat.

-That's what I'm saying. There's a lot to unpack here.

-No, no, no, there's nothing to unpack.

Our bags are already on the Titanic. Let's go.

-The judge is right. Time is of the essence.

We need to get in there and -- aah!

Aah! See this?

This is why I need to stretch.

-Sir, you can't go around tearing down inflatable Santas

because you feel they draw attention away

from the birth of your Lord and Savior.

-December 25th is Jimmy Buffett's birthday,

and you all have lost your way.

Jimmy saves.

Jimmy saves!

-Well, it's 5:00 somewhere, but not where you're going.

One night in jail and $50 fine.

-I gotta hand it to you Parrotheads.

Hawaiian shirts don't look good on anybody,

but you're sticking with it.

-All right. We are one case away from boarding the Titanic.

I hear the first puzzle

is actually rearranging the deck chairs.

-Last up -- the State versus Fred Norton.

The defendant is charged with trespassing

after he refused to leave a Christmas party.

-I couldn't leave before those fine people heard all about

the suckiest vacuum cleaner money can buy,

or my name isn't...Sam Snead.

But that isn't your name.

According to your driver's license,

you're Fred Norton, and you're not a salesman.

You're an actor.

And it says here you're really willing to do nudity.

-The defendant was hired to run a murder-mystery holiday party

and wouldn't break character,

even after it was made clear everyone wanted it to be over.

-Wanting it to be over is implied when

you said "murder-mystery party."

-Hey, murder-mystery parties are not on trial.

If so, I'd have to recuse myself because I love them.

Everyone gets dressed up, the lights go out,

there's a dead body,

and you have to figure out who did it

and why my date disappeared into a bedroom

with a different person.

-I've got the perfect way to keep your man happy

this Christmas -- the Staininator 3000!

Would you care for a demonstration, ma'am?

"Ma'am"?

This because somebody said I was eating yogurt earlier?

-Mr. Norton, it would really help your cause

if you would just speak as yourself.

This is a court of law, not a murder-mystery dinner --

Oh, no!

Flobert's dead!

Why?!

Take me instead!

No, wait.

Take Dan!

Sorry.

Darkness instantly puts me to sleep.

I am very dangerous driving through tunnels.

Judge, your chair.

- "You're next. Ho ho ho."

-Aw. Your first death threat.

-No one move. You're gonna want to remember this.

I'll get a camera!

-Detective Kratz, NYPD. How can I help you?

Besides finding the bastard that did this?

-It might be easier if you took your sunglasses off.

After all, it is night, and we are inside.

Don't tell me how to do my --

Oh, yeah, that's much better. Thank you.

-Detective, it's gotta be the murder-mystery guy.

I mean, you can't pretend to die 52 weeks a year

and not end up a little weird.

-Well, I'm sorry, but we take all threats seriously.

There's something about this time of year

that brings out the worst in people.

You know, my wife left me on Christmas.

This Christmas.

I found the divorce papers in my stocking.

That's what I get for peeking!

-Speaking of Christmas, some of us have plans.

Is there any way we can fast-track this investigation,

since, again, we know who did it?

-We are talking about your safety here.

Detective, you take as much time as you want,

even if it means we miss the thing

that only Abby wanted to do.

-Don't listen to him. He just hates fun.

-I don't -- -If this were a Christmas movie,

there'd be a pile of angels just trying to jumpstart his heart.

-Well, unfortunately, you're all stuck here

until Vacuum Guy cooperates.

Although, he is a good salesman.

I almost bought one for my wife.

Ex-wife.

Now excuse me. I have to go deal with

some police feelings in the bathroom.

-This is why men shouldn't be cops.

Excuse me, Wyatt.

I just need a place to put my folder.

Oh, I just put my folder under yours.

What a weird thing to do.

I should probably explain myself.

Fine, Gurgs.

Truth is, I did put my coat under yours on purpose.

I didn't want it to get stolen.

-Oh, so you'd be fine if my coat got stolen.

Fine's the wrong word.

Shocked. Uh, I would be shocked

if it got stolen.

That's why it's the perfect cover for my coat.

Oh! Oh, well, my coat

doesn't want to be your coat's coat!

Enough with the coats.

Whatever happened with the folder --

now, that was interesting.

-All right, guys, if we could just link Fred to this crime,

we can escape this room and head to a warehouse in Brooklyn

that used to be an underground dance club,

but now is a place we can get into.

-I'm not going anywhere with that jacket ass.