All language subtitles for Supernatural - S03E08 REMUX.eng

- Merry Christmas, Grandpa.
- Oh, Merry Christmas to you, Stevey.

Did you bring me any presents?

Now, why would I wanna do that?

Because it's Christmas.

Oh. I thought Santa Claus
brought the presents at Christmas.

You have been a good boy this year?

I have, I swear.

Well, then. Who knows?
Maybe he'll come.

Santa.

Reindeer.

Santa?

My daughter and I were in our beds.

Mike was downstairs
decorating the tree.

And I heard a thump on the roof
and then I heard Mike scream...

...and now I'm talking to the FBI.

You didn't see any of it?

No, he was...

He was just gone.

- The doors were locked, no forced entry?
- That's right.

- Does anybody else have a key?
- My parents.

- Where do they live?
- Florida.

Thanks for letting me have a look.

I think we got just about
everything we need.

We're all set.

We'll be in touch.

Agents.

The police said my husband
might've been kidnapped.

Could be.

Then why haven't
the kidnappers called?

Or demanded a ransom?

It's three days until Christmas.

What am I supposed to tell
our daughter?

We're very sorry.

Find anything?

Stockings, mistletoe, this.

A tooth? Where was this?

- In the chimney.
- No way a man fits up a chimney...

- ...it's too narrow.
- No way he fits up in one piece.

So if dad went up the chimney...

We need to find out
what dragged him up there.

So was I right?

Is it the serial killing chimney sweep?

Yup, it's actually Dick Van Dyke.

- Who?
- Mary Poppins...

- Who's that?
- Oh, come on... Engh. Never mind.

Walsh is the second guy
grabbed out of his house this month.

- Oh, yeah?
- Yeah.

Did he get dragged up
the chimney too?

Don't know. Witnesses said they heard
a thump on the roof.

What are we dealing with?

- Actually, I have an idea.
- Yeah?

It's gonna sound crazy.

What could you possibly say
that sounds crazy to me?

Um... Evil Santa.

- Yeah, that's crazy.
- Yeah.

I'm just saying that there's some version
of the Anti-Claus in every culture.

You got Belsnickel,
Krampus, Black Peter.

- Whatever you call it, there's lot of lore.
- Saying what?

Saying, back in the day,
Santa's brother went rogue.

Shows up around Christmas.

Instead of bringing presents,
he punishes the wicked.

- By hauling their ass up chimneys?
- For starters, yeah.

So this is your theory, huh?
Santa's shady brother?

Well, I... Just saying,
that's what the lore says.

Santa doesn't have a brother.
There is no Santa.

Yeah, I know. You're the one who told
me that in the first place, remember?

Yeah, you know what,
I could be wrong, I...

Gotta be wrong.

Maybe, maybe not.

- What?
- I did a little digging.

Both victims visited the same place...

- ...before they got snatched.
- Where?

Hurry up. Ha-ha.

Hurry.

- Hey.
- Hey.

It does kind of lend credence
to the theory.

Yeah, but Anti-Claus? Couldn't be.

It's a Christmas miracle. Speaking of,
we should have one this year.

- Have one what?
- A Christmas.

- Ha. No, thanks.
- No, we'll get a tree...

...a little Boston Market,
just like when we were little.

Dean, those weren't exactly
Hallmark memories for me.

We had some great Christmases.

- Whose childhood are you talking about?
- Come on, Sam.

No, just...

No.

All right, grinch.

What is that?

Present for dad.

Yeah, right. Where did you
get the money? Steal it?

No. Uncle Bobby gave it to me
to give to him.

Said it was real special.

What is it?

A pony.

Very funny.

Dad's gonna be here, right?

- He'll be here.
- But it's Christmas.

He knows.

And he'll be here. Promise.

- Where is he anyway?
- On business.

- What kind of business?
- You know that.

- He sells stuff.
- What kind of stuff?

Stuff.

Nobody ever tells me anything.

Then quit asking.

Is dad a spy?

- Mm-hm. He's James Bond.
- Why do we move around so much?

Because everywhere we go,
they get sick of your face.

I'm old enough, Dean.
You can tell me the truth.

You don't wanna know the truth.
Believe me.

Is that why we never talk about mom?

Shut up!
Don't you ever talk about mom, ever!

Wait, where are you going?

Out.

You'd think for the 10 bucks
it costs to get in...

...Santa could scrounge up
a little snow.

What?

Nothing.
What are we looking for again?

Lore says that the Anti-Claus
will walk with a limp...

...and smell like sweets.

Great, so we're looking for
a pimp Santa. Why the sweets?

Think about it. If you smell like candy,
the kids will come closer, you know?

That's creepy.

How does this thing know who's been
naughty and who's been nice?

I don't know.

So, Ronny, come sit on Santa's knee.

There you go.

- You've been a good boy this year?
- Yeah.

Good.

Santa's got a special gift for you.

Maybe we do.

Come on, honey.

- All right.
- Let's go.

Welcome to Santa's Court.
Can I escort your child to Santa?

No, no.

But actually, my brother here,
it's been a lifelong dream of his.

- Sorry. No kids over 12.
- No, he's just kidding.

We only came here to watch.

I didn't mean that we came here to... Y...

Thanks a lot, Dean. Thanks for that.

Check it out.

It's all right.

Are you seeing this?

A lot of people walk with limps.

- You didn't smell that? That was candy.
- That was ripple. I think. Had to be.

Maybe.
We willing to take that chance?

What time is it?

Same as the last time you asked.

Here.

Caffeinate.

Wonderful.

Hey, Sam.

Yeah?

Why are you the boy
that hates Christmas?

- Dean.
- I mean, I admit it.

We had a few bumpy holidays
when we were kids.

- Bumpy?
- But that was then.

We'll do it right this year.

Look, Dean, if you wanna
have Christmas, knock yourself out.

Just don't involve me.

Oh, yeah. That would be great.
Me and myself making cranberry molds.

What's up with Saint Nicotine?

Oh, my God!

- What?
- Nothing.

It's just that...

Well, you know, Mr. Gung-Ho Christmas
might have to blow away Santa.

The hell you doing here, huh?

I'm really not interested, okay?

Mistle my toe.

Roast my chestnut.

Jingle my bell.

Let's go.

Santa, you're early.

So that's how your son
described the attack?

Santa took daddy up the chimney?

That's what he says, yes.

- And where were you?
- I was asleep.

And all of a sudden, Al was being
dragged out of bed, screaming.

Did you see the attacker?

It was dark and he hit me.

He knocked me out.

I'm sorry. I know this is hard.

Yeah. Uh...

Mrs. Caldwell, where did you get
that wreath above the fireplace?

Excuse me?

Just curious, you know?

Wreaths, huh? Sure you didn't
wanna ask her about her shoes?

I saw some nice handbags
in the foyer.

- We've seen that wreath before, Dean.
- Where?

The Walsh's. Yesterday.

I know. I was just testing you.

Yeah. All right.

Well, keep looking, would you?

Thanks, Bobby.

Well, we're not dealing
with the Anti-Claus.

What did Bobby say?

That we're morons.

He also said that it was probably
meadowsweet in those wreaths.

Wow. Amazing.
What the hell is meadowsweet?

It's pretty rare and it's the most
powerful plant in pagan lore.

- Pagan lore?
- Yeah.

They'd use meadowsweet
for human sacrifices.

It was kind of like a chum
for their gods.

Gods were drawn to it, they'd stop by
and snack on the nearest human.

Why would somebody use that
for Christmas wreaths?

It's not so crazy as it sounds, Dean.

Pretty much every
Christmas tradition is pagan.

Christmas is Jesus' birthday.

Jesus' birthday was probably in the fall.
It was the winter solstice festival...

...that was co-opted by the Church
and renamed.

The yule log, Santa's red suit,
that's all remnants of pagan worship.

How do you know that?

What will you tell me next?
Easter bunny's Jewish?

Think we're dealing with a pagan god?

Yeah, probably Holdenacar...

...god of the winter solstice.

And all these Martha Stewart wannabes
buying these fancy wreaths.

Yup, it's like putting a neon sign
on your front door saying:

- "Come kill us."
- Great.

When you sacrifice to Holdenacar,
guess what he gives you?

- Lap dances, hopefully.
- Mild weather.

Like no snow in the middle
of December in Michigan.

- For instance.
- Do we know how to kill it?

No, Bobby's working on that now.

We gotta figure out
where they're selling those wreaths.

They're selling them on purpose?

Feeding the victims to this thing?

Let's find out.

- Can I help you, boys?
- I hope so.

We were playing Jenga over
at the Walsh's the other night and...

Well, he hasn't shut up since
about this wreath.

- I don't know. You tell him.
- Sure.

It was yummy.

I sell a lot of wreaths, guys.

Right, right, but you see,
this one would have been really special.

It had... It had green leaves,
white buds on it.

Might have been made
of meadowsweet?

Well, aren't you a fussy one?

N...

He is. Heh-heh.

Anyway, I know the one
you're talking about. I'm all out.

Huh. Seems like this meadowsweet
stuff's rare and expensive.

- Why make wreaths out of it?
- I didn't make them.

- Who did?
- Madge Carrigan, a local lady.

Said they were so special,
she gave them to me for free.

- She didn't charge you.
- Nope.

- Sell them for free?
- It's Christmas...

- ...people pay a butt-load for this crap.
- That's the spirit.

How much do you think
a meadowsweet wreath would cost?

- Couple hundred dollars, at least.
- This lady's giving them away for free?

What do you think about that?

Well, I'd say it's pretty suspicious.

Remember that wreath
Dad brought home that one year?

You mean, the one he stole from,
like, a liquor store?

Yeah, it was a bunch
of empty beer cans.

That thing was great.

I bet if I looked around hard enough,
I could probably find one just like it.

All right.

- Dude, what's going on with you?
- What?

Since when are you Bing Crosby?
Why do you wanna do Christmas so bad?

Why are you so against it? Were your
childhood memories that traumatic?

- That has nothing to do with it.
- Then what?

I mean, I just... I don't get it.

You haven't talked about Christmas
in years.

Well, yeah.

This is my last year.

I know.

That's why I can't.

What do you mean?

I mean, I can't just sit around
drinking eggnog...

...pretending everything's okay...

...when I know next Christmas
you'll be dead.

I just can't.

- Thought you went out?
- Yeah, and I got you dinner.

Don't forget your vegetables.

I know why you keep a gun
under your pillow.

No, you don't.

Stay out of my stuff.

And I know why we lay salt down
everywhere we go.

No, you don't. Shut up.

Where did you get that? That's dad's.

He's gonna kick your ass
for reading that.

- Are monsters real?
- What?

- You're crazy.
- Tell me.

I swear, if you ever tell dad
I told you any of this, I will end you.

Promise.

First thing you have to know is
we have the coolest dad in the world.

- He's a superhero.
- He is?

Yeah.

Monsters are real.

Dad fights them.

He's fighting them right now.

But dad said the monsters under my bed
weren't real.

That's because he'd already checked
under there.

But, yeah, they're real.

Almost everything's real.

Is Santa real?

No.

If monsters are real, then they
could get us. They could get me.

- Dad's not gonna let them get you.
- But what if they get him?

They aren't gonna get dad.

Dad's, like, the best.

I read in dad's book
that they got mom.

It's complicated, Sam.

If they got mom, they can get dad.
If they can get dad, they can get us.

It's not like that.

Okay, dad's fine.

We're fine.

Trust me.

- You okay?
- Yeah.

You know, dad's gonna be here
for Christmas.

Just like he always is.

I just wanna go to sleep, okay?

Yeah, okay.

It'll all be better when you wake up.

You'll see.

Promise.

So this is where Mrs. Wreath lives,

Boy, can't you just feel the evil,
pagan vibe?

- Yes?
- Tell me you're the Madge Carrigan...

- ...who makes the wreaths.
- Why, yes I am.

- Hah. Bingo.
- Yeah.

We were just admiring your wreaths
at Mr. Silar's place the other day.

You were?

Isn't that meadowsweet the finest
smelling thing you ever smelled?

It is. It sure is.

But seem the problem is that
all your wreaths had sold out...

- ...before we got the chance to buy one.
- Oh, fudge.

You wouldn't happen to have
another one.

Oh, no. I'm afraid those were
the only ones I had for this season.

Why'd you decide to make them
out of meadowsweet?

Why, the smell, of course.

I don't think I've smelled
anything finer.

- Yeah. You mentioned that.
- What's going on, honey?

Well, just some nice boys,
asking about my wreaths, dear.

Oh, the wreaths are fine.
Fine wreaths.

Oh. Care for some peanut brittle?

We're okay.

I knew it.
Something was off with those two.

- What did you find?
- They lived in Seattle last year...

...where two abductions took place.

They moved here in January.

The Christmas crap wasn't boughs
of holly, it was vervain and mint.

- Pagan stuff?
- Serious pagan stuff.

Ozzie and Harriett are keeping a god
hidden underneath their couch?

All I know is
we gotta check them out.

What about Bobby? He's sure evergreen
stakes will kill this thing, right?

Yeah, he's sure.

See, plastic.

Hey, Dean.

Sam!

Gosh, I wish you boys
hadn't come down here.

Dean?

Are you okay?

Yeah, I think so.

So I guess we're dealing
with Mr. and Mrs. God.

- Nice to know.
- Yeah.

Oh, and here we thought
you two lazybones...

...were gonna sleep straight through
all the fun stuff. Ha-ha.

- And miss all this? No, we're partiers.
- Isn't he a kick in the pants, honey?

You're hunters, is what you are.

Yeah, and you're pagan gods.

So why don't we call it even
and go our separate ways?

What, so you can bring back more
hunters and kill us? I don't think so.

You should have thought that
before you went snacking on humans.

Oh, now, don't get all wet.

Why, we used to take over
a hundred tributes a year.

And that's a fact.

Now, what do we take,
what, two, three?

- Uhn.
- Hardy Boys here make five.

Now, that's not so bad, is it?

You say it like that,
you are the Cunninghams.

You better show us a little respect.

Or what?

- You'll eat us?
- Not so fast.

- There's rituals to be followed first.
- Oh, we're just sticklers for ritual.

You know what kicks off
the shebang?

Let me guess. Meadowsweet.

Oh, shucks, you're all out of wreaths.

I guess we'll have
to cancel the sacrifice.

Don't be such a gloomy Gus.

There.

Don't they just look darling?

Good enough to eat.

Alrighty-roo, step number two.

- Sammy.
- No.

- Sammy?
- No, no, don't.

Leave him alone, you son of a bitch!

You hear how they talk to us?
Ha-ha. To gods?

Listen, pal, back in the day,
we were worshipped by millions.

- Times have changed.
- Ha. Tell me about it.

All of a sudden, this Jesus character's
the hot, new thing in town.

Our altars are being burned down and
we're being hunted down like monsters.

But did we say peep?
Oh, no, no, no, we did not.

Two millennium.

We kept a low profile,
we got jobs, a mortgage.

- We... What was that word, dear?
- We assimilated.

Yeah, we assimilated.

Why, we play bridge on Tuesdays
and Fridays.

We're just like everybody else.

You're not blending like you think,
lady.

This might pinch a bit, dear.

Aah! You bitch!

Oh, my goodness, me.

Somebody owes a nickel
to the swear jar.

Oh, do you know what I say
when I feel like swearing? Fudge.

I'll try and remember that.

You boys have no idea
how lucky you are.

There was a time when
kids came from miles around...

- ...just to be sitting where you are.
- What do you think you're doing?

You fudging touch me again,
I'll fudging Kill you!

Very good.

No. No, don't.

Oh-ho. We've got a winner.

- What else, dear?
- Well, let's see.

Fingernail, blood. Oh!

Sweet Peter on a Popsicle stick.
Heh. I forgot the tooth.

Dear.

Merry Christmas, Sam.

Open wide and say: Aah.

Somebody gonna get that?

You should get that.

Come on.

Merry Christmas.

- I told you I smelled fruitcake.
- You shouldn't have.

- Oh. Bite your tongue. It's my pleasure.
- Looks scrumptious.

We're going caroling, care to join?

You know we would...

It's my back.
Darn thing's giving me fits.

That's a shame.

- Oh, well, Merry Christmas.
- And to you too.

- Are we still on for bridge tomorrow?
- With bells on.

- Yes. Okay, bye.
- Bye-bye.

Ah. Where were we?

What do we do now?
The stakes are in the basement.

Well, we need more evergreen, Dean.

I think I just found us some more.

Help me get this.

You little thing.

I loved that tree.

Madge!

Merry Christmas.

Sam, wake up.

Dad was here. Look what he brought.

- Dad was here?
- Yeah.

Look at this. We made a killing.

Why didn't he try to wake me up?

He tried to, like, a thousand times.

He did?

Yeah. Did I tell you he would
give us Christmas or what?

Go on. Dive in.

What is it?

Sapphire Barbie?

- Heh. Dad probably thinks you're a girl.
- Shut up.

Open that one.

- Dad never showed, did he?
- Yeah, he did. I swear.

Dean, where did you get all this stuff?

Nice house up the block.

I swear, I didn't know
they were chick presents.

Look, I'm sure dad
would have been here if he could.

- If he's alive.
- Don't say that.

Of course he's alive.

He's dad.

Here.

- Take this.
- No.

No, that's for dad.

Dad lied to me.

I want you to have it.

- Are you sure?
- I'm sure.

Thank you, Sam. I...

I love it.

Hey, you get the beer?

What's all this?

What do you think it is?

It's Christmas.

What made you change your mind?

Here, try the eggnog.

Let me know
if it needs some more kick.

- No, we're good.
- Yeah?

- Yeah.
- Good.

Well, have a seat.
Let's do Christmas stuff or whatever.

All right, first thing's first.

Merry Christmas, Sam.

- Where did you get these?
- Some place special.

Gas mart down the street.

Open them up.

Yeah.

- Great minds think alike, Dean.
- Really?

Here you go.

Oh, come on.

Yeah.

Skin mags...

...and shaving cream.

You like?

Yeah, yeah.

Well, look at this.
Fuel for me and fuel for my baby.

- These are awesome. Thanks.
- Good.

Merry Christmas, bro.

Yeah, yeah.

Here, Merry Christmas.

Hey, Dean.

Do you feel like watching the game?

Absolutely.

All right.