Original subtitles

Imagine this.

You're in your favorite bookstore,

scanning the shelf where your favorite books reside,

and there…

nestled between the familiar spines sits a red notebook.

Imagine you're in New York and it's Christmas.

You're surrounded by people, by possibility…

and the hope that, somewhere in the city,

is that one person that's meant for you.

You just have to find them.

How do you do that?

It all depends on the kind of person you are.

It's the most detestable time of the year.

The forced cheer, frenzied crowds.

The carolers who've had so much eggnog they've forgotten the words.

And, of course, the couples naive enough to mistake

holiday spirit for being in love.

I made that mistake once, too.

Never again.

Hey!

-Season's greetings! -Oh, come on, tinsel?

The emoji industry has yet to create an icon

to represent one's feelings about being cast aside

by their divorced mother so that she can spend Christmas in Hawaii.

That'd be huge in New York.

Well, at least someone knows the words.

There is one refuge from the holiday hordes.

Some bookstores think they need to host a cookie-making class

in order to sell you some Proust.

Not the Strand.

Hey, this was mis-shelved.

Gabriel García Márquez should be under G for García, not M for Márquez.

And, also, this is biography. It's not fiction. So…

Thanks.

Hey, kid, if you ever wanna work here…

I'll remember this.

Hey, this was also in the wrong section, so…

Do you dare?

I've left some clues for you. If you want them, turn the page.

If you don't, put the book back on the shelf.

So, you've chosen to play. A revealing choice.

Shall we begin?

A coded message. You can decipher it with the right books.

But only if you can find them.

Your first clue requires some heavy reading.

Look for French pianism.

What the hell is French pianism?

Oh, and if you need to use your phone, don't bother playing.

French pianism.

I'm not telling you anything.

But this is the information desk.

Are you not obligated to, like, give me some information?

Look, if this is about earlier, I… apologize.

I know you would never mis-shelve a book.

I don't understand. Did I wrong you?

Did I buy you a James Patterson book for Christmas,

or are you taking pleasure from my suffering?

- Could you tell me the section-- - I'm not allowed.

I promised her I wouldn't discuss anything related to that.

But since you asked, there's a little pleasure.

You said "her."

- No, I didn't. - Yes, you did.

You said "her." She's a her, and she is testing my knowledge of the Strand.

Thank you for your help.

I didn't help you.

Okay, Clue Girl.

If this is how you want to play it…

…game on.

Pianism as in piano, but there's nothing in the music section,

unless…

heavy reading.

It's a code. Page 88, seventh line, second word.

Are you…

Am I what?

Let's make this harder. Fat Hoochie Prom Queen.

Obviously YA, obviously pink.

Yes.

Your next book isn't a Christmas story,

but Santa does show up to hand out weapons.

Now, presuming you read this as a child, what bothered you about this scene?

That's easy. Why is jolly St. Nick giving an eight-year-old a knife?

If you said Santa Claus arming an eight-year-old,

this can go on.

Your next clue is inside the most popular title

in Sex and Sexuality.

Dash?

Priya.

-Hey. -I didn't know you were in town.

She wouldn't, because we're not friends.

No one's in town. Everyone's off in Bora Bora…

Oh, sure,

back when I dated her best friend, we shared a social circle.

Now we don't.

…about their presents this year. That's why I'm here.

I'm trying to find a present for my little sister. She's into fantasy.

Yeah, I remember, at your party last year, she challenged me to a duel.

About this year, um… I'm… I'm sorry I didn't invite you.

I just… I thought it would be weird, you know, but since you're in town,

you should totally still come. It's on Christmas Eve.

Thanks, but my dad's taking me to Sweden tomorrow.

- Sweden. - Yeah.

It's supposed to be beautiful in December. All those long Swedish nights.

Right.

Well, that's too bad.

Sofia's coming.

-Sofia's back? -Yeah, just for the holidays.

Anything she should, uh, know?

Tell her I'm trying new things.

Okay.

Hey, wait, Priya, um… Here. For your sister.

I have a feeling she'd like it. It's fantasy for kids with weapons.

Merry Christmas.

The fact you were willing to stand in the Strand

with The Joy of Gay Sex bodes well for our future.

However, a few rules.

If you are not a teenage boy, please return the notebook to the shelf.

if you have use for the manual in your hand, I completely support that.

Love is a spectrum, but if girls aren't on yours,

please return the notebook to the shelf.

And finally, if you've made it this far, you're obviously clever,

but I want to know…

are you brave?

Hello.

Um, sorry to interrupt your browsing,

um, but I have been asked to share a dramatic reading.

Um…

And apologies to Joni Mitchell.

Um…

"It's coming on Christmas." Um…

"They're cutting down trees,

putting up reindeer, singing songs of joy and peace.

Oh, I wish I had a river

that I could skate away on."

"But it don't snow here…"

Maybe you thought this would scare me off.

But I love this song, and if you chose it, that means you love it, too.

"…crazy scene…"

Are you here now?

Did you turn up to see if I had the guts to follow through?

"Oh, I wish I had a river. I'm so hard to handle."

"I'm selfish, and I'm sad."

"And now I've gone and lost the best baby I've ever had."

"Oh, I wish I had a river to skate away on."

"It's coming on Christmas."

-Whoa! Hey, hey. -I'm putting you out of your misery.

What are you doing? It's not the end of the song.

Got what you needed.

The last two words of the message?

You just said them.

Are you going to be lonely on Christmas?

So, here we are. What happens next is up to you.

Leave a message telling me how this time of year makes you feel.

If I like your answer, you just might hear from me.

If you're not scared.

Who is she?

Even if I could tell you, I wouldn't.

You have to put that back so someone else can play.

Hey! I said leave it.

I'm not scared, Clue Girl.

I'm hooked.

Dude! You're going to Sweden, and you didn't tell me?

How'd you…?

Oh, Priya.

Yeah. She texted and said you were acting weird. Like, even for you.

She say anything else?

Just so you know, I'm a total ally.

I appreciate that, Boomer, but I'm still straight.

And I'm not going to Sweden.

I'm just trying to avoid seeing anyone over the break.

What, even me?

No, man. Need you for the pizza.

Oh, great.

Yeah. So, what's the Boomer clan doing for Christmas?

Oh, it's gonna be sick.

So, you know my aunt who works for the Food Network?

She's bringing over all the food that was too weird-looking to be on TV.

You gotta let me know when you open your presents.

Why?

Well, because I helped your mom pick yours out.

-You gotta give me a hint. -What?

-No. I'm not gonna tell you what it is. -You gotta give me a hint. Give me a hint!

Okay, you know those life-size Japanese robots that fight each other?

-No. -It's not that.

I'm… I'm gonna get you back.

Are you going to be lonely on Christmas?

What's that? You got a diary?

Oh, no. I just found it at the Strand. Um…

You don't recognize this handwriting, do you?

Yeah. Oh, yeah, that's a girl.

Yeah, that's definitely girl cursive right there.

Okay, but that's not Priya's, right?

Pretty sure Priya only writes on her phone. Why?

Oh, I'm just ruling out suspects.

Uh, 'cause it had these clues, like a treasure hunt,

and I've just been wondering about the girl who wrote it.

Ooh, you like her.

Boomer, we're not in third grade. We don't say, "Ooh, you like her."

-But you do. -No, I don't even know her.

Which is why it's even weirder that you like her.

I mean, I haven't heard you talk about a girl since…

Yep, you can say her name, Boomer. She's not Voldemort.

Actually, you're supposed to say Voldemort's name. It takes away his power.

Okay, look, I don't even know if I want to know this girl.

I would just like to figure out who she is.

Done. We set up a sting operation.

Yeah. Okay, you send her a message telling her to order pizza from Two Boots.

When she calls and places it, boom, we got her name.

It's… it's all there.

I will consider that.

-I'm gonna get this. -That looks cool. What's that?

It's a depressing French film about murder.

All right, thanks for the pizza, Boomer.

Shit!

Hey, Dad, did you change your alarm code for your apartment?

Yeah, no, I am spending the break with Mom.

But I just figure if I need a place to get away to read.

Or sure, bring a special lady. Yeah.

Okay.

Great. I am writing it down now.

Disarmed.

No, I am not gonna touch the brandy, Dad.

My mom thinks I'm spending the holiday with my dad.

My dad thinks I'm with my mom,

and my classmates think I'm out of the city.

It's my Christmas gift to myself.

Solitude.

What are you thinking about?

The word… "bedding."

You American boys have the stupidest pillow talk.

No, hear me out. It's one of those words

where it's just either really sexy, you know, or it's really not, like, um…

Can you show me to the bedding department? Right? It's not sexy.

But then if you make it into a verb, like--

Are we going to be bedding each other?

Mmm. See, that's very sexy.

I'm going to miss you.

I'm not going anywhere.

Are you?

My dad got a new post. Brazil.

I'm sorry. We both knew this was never going to last forever.

There you are. Can you stop hiding, love birds?

It's a party.

You asked me how this time of year makes me feel.

I suspect you're a kindred spirit, so I know you'll understand when I say,

it's the most detestable time of the year.

I knew it. Sting operation.

No. Please don't call it that. Just listen, okay?

-You listening? -Yeah.

The clues are gonna instruct her

to leave the notebook on one the shelves in the video section.

-Okay? -Okay.

All you need to do is just keep an eye out for her, all right?

So, you can know she is without her knowing who you are?

Isn't that kind of sneaky and not cool?

Fine, we can call it a sting operation.

Awesome. Yes.

All right, guys, we got our holiday special.

We call it the St. Nick. It's in honor Nicolas Cage.

How did you miss her?

-It was the lunch rush. -What about the security cameras?

What security cameras?

-You said that it was a sting operation. -Yeah, but this is also a pizza parlor.

-Uh, she left you a message. -What?

Yeah.

Nice try.

You sent me into a trap.

Dude. What? How could she possibly know that?

Uh, it gets worse. Like, way worse.

I'm flattered, Mystery Boy, but I'm not so easy to catch.

If you wanna know more about me,

you'll have to do it through this notebook.

And if you want my name, you'll have to earn it… with a dare.

Maybe this is a bad idea. I mean, you don't even know this girl.

She could be totally different than what you think.

That's the thing, Boomer. I do know her.

When I read her words, it's like I can hear her voice.

She's sarcastic, sophisticated…

-sadistic. -Sadistic?

She's sending me into a department store right before Christmas.

Clearly, her sadism knows no bounds.

-Just be nice to Santa. Please? -Yep.

You can kick me out without actually kicking me.

Consider yourself banned from Santa Land for life.

We actually do not have that authority, but you should be ashamed of yourself.

And you're on the naughty list.

Well, I hope climate change destroys the North Pole.

Okay, Clue Girl, I did your dare,

and it only cost me my dignity.

So, let's find out what I learned.

What? No, what? Come on. What did I do wrong?

I did everything you asked, and I still don't know your…

Lily.

Her name's Lily.

Lily!

Lily! Lily, thank God you're here.

-Is it bad? -Without you? They're terrible.

-Hey! Seriously? -Season's greetings.

Oh, it's Lily. We're saved.

-Sorry I'm late. -We drank all the eggnog.

I was looking for these.

"Joy to the World," third verse. We need you, badly.

Well, at least someone knows the words.