Original subtitles

[Elf David Attenborough] Welcome to "Story Time."

Today's story...

Christmas?

Really?

In the middle of spring?

Whatever.

Ahem.

The year was 264 A.D.

The place...

Constantinople,

a town ravaged by famine.

A hellhole God said goodbye to long ago.

But there was one man,

a baker by the name of Nicholas,

who made it his mission

to feed the hungry,

the righteous,

the nice.

When the famine ended,

the people of Constantinople thanked him

by giving him a golden key to the city.

[roars]

But the naughty, the "Jerk Turks" if you will,

thought he was shitty for not giving them bread, too.

So they set out

to kill the man they called "Skatonik"--

loose translation "Shitty Nick"--

on a night that would be known as "Ataktos Nychta"...

the "Night of the Naughty."

[grumbling]

With no home or family, Skatonik wandered the earth.

Until one day he came across a group of elves.

With spears!

[***]

They told him they'd been waiting

for a man of absolute moral fiber

to fulfill the prophecy and become their king.

[***]

Together, they created a society

based on justice and purity,

and made it their business

to give to those who were like-minded.

[***]

So on the one night of the year,

when all the town folk were gathered

to celebrate the birthday of their Lord Jesus,

Skatonik and his head elf

snuck in to deliver gifts to the nice.

[***]

But man doth be prone to temptation.

For Skatonik,

it was the feathery touch of tiny fingers...

the mystique...

of a magical muff.

[***]

Needless to say

the other elves were quite cheesed off.

They thought he was a saint--

not some shitty, horny perv.

So they banished them both on the spot.

But Skatonik cared more for power

than for love.

He said that the elf had seduced him,

and she was the one who should be banished.

[***]

So they sent her to the coal mines.

[shouting angrily]

[***]

To convince the elves of his purity,

he signed the Pledge of the Nice,

and stated that only the nice would receive gifts.

[cheering]

And it would be coal for the naughty.

And that, I guess, is the story of Christmas.

Man, we have a fucked up history.

Uh, ya think?

[***]

[Nick sighs heavily]

You okay there, pal?

Maybe?

I don't even know anymore.

Oh, fuck me. We're doing this, aren't we?

Doesn't any of this shit bother you?

Skatonik? The nice?

All this bullshit?

I mean, it does,

but I've made peace with it,

if, once a year,

a nice girl can open up,

I dunno, a Polly Pocket Mega Mall,

and feel a brief flicker of joy

to brighten up

the dark fucking apocalypse I call earth.

Oh, man, we really approach this Christmas thing

from different angles.

Look, Skatonik was a piece of shit,

but sometimes the ends justify the means.

But what if I'm a means guy?

Not a mean guy, a "meanssss" guy?

Don't--just don't worry about it too much.

Just keep your head down and keep grinding.

Keep...

shining?

Yeah, you're probably right.

But I don't know, hear me out,

I'm just saying,

okay, what if--

Nick, if you're about to say what I think you're gonna say--

I'm gonna say it.

-Don't you say it. -You know I'm going to.

-Shush! -No, you shush!

No!

We need to get rid of the naughty list,

take the Pledge of the Nice,

and shove it up Skatonik's ass!

Motherfucker.

You said it.

I know you think you're making the right decision,

but if you do this,

you and me are done.

Also, I will cut your dick off and bury it in your mouth.

Oh, fuck, son, hi.

Would you like to join me for a pancake?

Or multiple pancakes

in what could best be described as pan-kakke situation?

No, Dad, I don't want to be gangbanged by pancakes.

Stop it.

Okay.

I guess...

more for me.

By the way, I couldn't help but overhear you and Mom.

And I just wanna say,

standing up for what you believe in

is tight.

You're, like, super tight, Dad.

Wow, really?

Oh, yeah, I'm, like, really proud

to be your son or whatever.

And Mom will come around.

Trust me.

I know her like a mother.

You know what, Jack,

I was really scared of your mother

and her ability to always be right,

but I think on this one,

I'm gonna go with your gut,

which is the same as my gut...

only different--

because you exercise.

[laughs]

And I don't.

Tight.

[Ebba] We are so relieved to be back at work.

Can you believe

I spent this entire time baking bread?

I know, the telltale sign of true depression.

Holy shit, that's moist.

Is that fucking nutmeg?

If I told you, then I'd have to kill you.

[laughing]

What?

But speaking of you murdering me,

I've decided to get rid of the naughty list, you know.

From now on, we'll be making toys for every child,

so, whoosh,

the band-aid has been ripped off.

Hooray!

[rages]

That is not how you take off a band-aid!

You soak it in water,

you soften the glue, you--

Mac obviously removes a lot of band-aids,

because that's what you do when you fall off trampolines.

What you don't do...

is murder Christmas, Claus!

There is nothing more dangerous

than a toy in the hands of a naughty child.

Nothing!

This. Means. War.

Not all of us have the luxury of exiting through chimneys.

[crash]

Whee!

Okay. Ebba, I'll walk you out.

Santa Claus has threatened our way of life!

And now he calls for revolution?

Well, I think Santa Claus must pay!

[cheering]

Now, in the name of Skatonik...

turn to your neighbor and wish them a merry evening!

[***]

Yo, you guys got a motherfucking Advil?

Jernigan? Are you alright, dude?

I don't know Jernigan.

I'm Jerry.

That's my pimp name.

Okay.

Are you alright, Jerry?

I mean, where have you been?

I've been balling out of control,

you trifling fucknuggets.

[whispers] I went to The Pole last night.

What?

I done seen the light, boys.

Naughty is the new nice, motherfuckers.

Fuck you looking at?

Whoa, language, buddy.

Who gives a jolly jizz about language?

This is all a lie!

The pledge, Ebba.

I mean, hell,

we're talking about burning the factory to the ground?

Can't you see the hypocrisy in that!

Santa was right.

We have to love each other,

and I mean that in every sense of the word.

I mean it like fucking.

[Christmas rock music playing]

[music stops]

[glass shatters]

I'm looking for my girlfriend.

What the fuck do you want?

Can we--

This is a private conversation.

Whatever you have to say to me, you can say to the entire bar.

That's how socialism works.

Okay, well,

if this is where it has to happen,

then this is where it has to happen.

[laughs]

Helenor, we belong together.

[slurps]

And I owe you a sorry and a thank you.

A "Sank You," if you will.

Until we met,

I was just following

in the bootsteps of all the Santas before me,

but look at my feet...

I'm wearing sandals with socks.

We're definitely going

to have to do something about that.

[Nick] Too late.

I've also had it up to here with the nice elves.

So I told them to take a fucking hike.

Are you on cocaine right now?

Yeah, but, like, the smallest amount of cocaine.

Like, boop. Like that amount of cocaine.

You swear?

I swear, okay.

On Dasher, on Prancer,

on Dancer, on Vixen,

Comet, and Cupid,

and Donner, and Blitzen.

Okay.

Then welcome to the party.

Fuck, yeah.

The bar is open!

Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-bew!

[***]

[smooch!]

[***]

Good morning.

Whoa, you're up early.

If you even live here anymore.

Couldn't really sleep.

Figured I'd get a head start on the day.

You know, with everything going on,

you might want to consider a banana.

You still have your good looks.

Might be helpful to hold onto them.

You know, you and this cookie are the same.

Mm!

Sweet on the outside.

Mm!

But full of shit.

Oh, give me a break.

You're the one with all the lies.

Covering up for Dad

while he's out sticking it to his floozie.

Funny you should mention that,

because for all your Dad's faults,

he and I worked very hard

to keep Helenor's identity a secret.

You know, the only time her name has even been uttered

was at this breakfast table.

In front of you.

Look, are we done here?

I have a 7:00 a.m. plasma exchange.

Sit down.

Okay...

What?

Hanging out with a penguin is totally normal.

A penguin...

in a sauna?

I don't know what to tell you. He likes to sweat.

Schvitz recognize schvitz.

I love you like a son,

but you realize you're a fucking idiot, right?

Oh, as if!

I'm in these streets playing Chess

while you bitches are stuck playing Candyland!

So don't complain about Blackjack,

because I just fucked King Kandy in the ass

and I'm doing what needs to be done.

You don't know shit, you're a pawn.

I heard you talking to Dad this morning.

He wants to piss away

the kingdom that belongs to me?

Fuck that!

I leaked that dick pic.

I exposed Helenor.

What have you done to save Christmas?

Yeah, that's right.

Checkmate, bitch!

Tell me, what move is it in Chess

when you admit to the Queen you're guilty of treason?

If we're gonna work together,

I'm gonna need you

to pull your head out of your ass.

Wait, you want to work together?

Ugh. Yes.

But I need to know you're gonna fall in line

and do whatever I say,

which is why...

you're gonna eat this cookie.

Fuck that. Out of the question.

Suit yourself.

"Dear Ebba..."

Wait...

Jack, you're an absolute fool,

but you were right about one thing.

This is Chess...

so long live the Motherfucking Queen.

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