All language subtitles for Bones (2005) - S03E09 - The Santa in the Slush (1080p x265 EDGE2020).eng

* You better watch out,
you better not cry *

* You better not pout,
I'm telling you why *

* Santa Claus is coming
to town... *

Oh, God, I can't deal with
any more kids poking at me.

(laughs)
At least you get the kids.
I get their dads.

Letches all want me
to sit on their laps.

I don't much care for the way
Santa is gawking at you, either.

Don't do that. You're
too pretty to smoke.

Next you're going to tell me
it'll stunt my growth.
Be nice

now. It's Christmas.

(sniffing)
What's that smell?

What do you want?

It's the back of a mall.
I have a very sensitive nose.

Don't walk.
Why are you walking?

Let's just sit.
It's coming
from over here.

There's something.

Probably old hot dogs
or a dead cat.

No, no, no, don't
touch. Let me.

(screaming)

(yells, whimpers)

MAX:
Jail's not too bad.

I get meals with your brother.
We go out on these

work details together.

You haven't asked me why I'm...

strapped in these chains.

Well, you're in jail.
No.

I'm in dress rehearsal
for A Christmas Carol.

You're Jacob Marley?

I wanted to be Scrooge,
but some triple homicide

in Cell Block H
got the part.

You don't want to know how.

(laughs)

What are you going
to do for Christmas?

I'm doing what I always do--
I'm going on a trip.

New York?

Peru. National Geographic
found a new step pyramid

at an ancient ceremonial
site known as El Brujo.

1,500-year-old
skeletons. Part of a

very mysterious culture
called the Moche.
Well,

unless they're elves,
it's not very Christmassy.
No.

They aren't elves.

You know what I'd like?

I'd like to spend another
Christmas with... with kids...

with a family, with a tree.

You're in jail, Dad.

So is Russ.

Mom's dead.
Yeah. Yeah.

And-and Christmas
is overrated anyway.

People expect it to be
so perfect. It never is.

I'm really looking forward
to the skeletons in El Brujo.
Yeah, but

Christmas and skeletons
do not go together.
I remember

the Christmas you and Mom
gave me the toolbox.

(laughs)

That was great.
Yeah, except that

the toolbox was for Russ.

But you decided
that it was yours, and...

and he let you have it.

He did?
Yeah.

(laughing)
(phone ringing)

I hope some day
that, uh...

we can all have Christmas
together again.

I doubt it, Dad.
Well, lie to me.
I-I can pretend.

I've got to go look
at a dead person.

Well, you never were

good at sugarcoating anything.

(buzzer sounds,
indistinct shouting)

BOOTH:
You got that sad little

girl look on your face after
you've been with your dad.

No, I don't.

He wishes we could spend
Christmas together with Russ.

Do it.

They're both in jail.
It's impossible.

What are your plans?

I'm thinking about driving the
truck right off the bridge.

Oh, I'm being melodramatic
and self-pitying.

You love Christmas.
I'd love it, you know,
when I have Parker.

But, this year, he's
going skiing in Vermont

with Rebecca and
Captain Fantastic.

Who's Captain Fantastic?

Ah, it's her boyfriend.
Commands a Coast Guard cutter.

His last name isn't
literally Fantastic, is it?

Might as well be.

You know they have
a trailer at the jail.

Mostly for conjugal visits.

Captain Fantastic
is in jail?
No, your dad.

You could give him what
he wants for Christmas.

Pull a few strings.
I'm not a string puller.

Oh, I've seen you
pull some strings.

My father is a murderer
and a thief.

Well, murderers and thieves--
they get Christmas, too.

In fact, it's
kind of the point.

Well, I have other plans.

Well, whatever they are,

skeletons and
Christmas do not mix.

That's exactly
what my father said.

Where are we going?
Early Christmas
present for you, Bones.

Dead guy in a sewer.

(siren wailing,
camera shutter clicking)

Ah, it's cold enough as it is,
let's get this done here.

Whew!

(siren wailing)
Great.

Had to be Santa.
SAROYAN:
You'd think

someone who could
squeeze up and down chimneys

would find the sewer a snap.
BRENNAN:
Rats

got to him.
SAROYAN:
Like huge

bacterial count,
unseasonably warm weather--

explains why the rats
found him so digestible.

He was washed down through
the sewer system. I mean,

look at all the stuff
that's around him.

Uphill is that way.

Busiest shopping district during
the busiest shopping season.

Maybe he worked up there.
BOOTH:
Or he was

pushed out
of a low-flying sleigh.

Cynicism from you at Christmas?

What happened?
Nothing.

Rebecca is taking Parker
to Vermont for the holidays.

That sucks majorly.
It does suck majorly,
so what do you say

we just get back
to our dead Santa here?

BRENNAN:
He's not Santa, Booth.

He's a dead man in a costume.
SAROYAN:
Well, the beard

looks real, and he's pretty fat.
BRENNAN:
Which

doesn't make him Santa.
Well, let's

not jump to conclusions.
BOOTH:
Oh, three days

before Christmas,
and somebody kills Santa.

*

We'll send his gloves
to the FBI crime lab,

see if they can get any
fingerprints from the inside.

Damage here on the left side
of the skull suggests

a strong blow
to the left temporal bone.

So Santa was
definitely murdered.

Someone did not
like their present.

There's copious insect
activity from the sewer.

I'm intrigued that
the Santa myth

survived so far
into modern times.

Children, Dr. Addy,
it's for children.

These duds are not
department store issue.

This is real ermine.

It's a hand-tailored suit.
Which

I'd like to get off of him

after you two finish
your scraping and...

Not that that isn't all
very, very important.

What Santa is supposed to do
is clearly impossible.

HODGINS:
He keeps a list,

checks it twice,
what's the big deal?
If you take into account

all believers of the myth,
factor in time zones,

rotation of the Earth,
and assume

Santa travels east to west,

he would have to make
approximately 822.6 visits

per second to reach every child.

So Santa parks his sleigh,

unloads presents,
fills stockings,

eats snacks, gets back
into his sleigh,

and on to the next house

in about one-one-thousandth
of a second?
ADDY: Children

have to be stupid
to accept that.
Okay.

First of all,
children are not stupid.

They're just children.
Second, Santa is magic.

Let's identify
the victim, shall we?

ADDY:
There's an ellipsoid aperture

in the mandibular left canine

and first premolar,

consistent with pipe smoking.

(computer trilling)

Hmm?

Plus, traces of residue on

the canine--
could this be clay?

Santa is often portrayed
smoking a clay pipe.

SAROYAN:
All right.

All right, very funny, boys.
HODGINS:
Come on.

Where's your holiday spirit?
(bells jingling)

Based on the degree of bloating
and purged fluids,

I'd estimate time of death

between 72 and
96 hours ago.

Check the sewer sludge and bugs,
give me a confirmation.

Phorid fly maggots,
third instar.

And they appear to have
been well-fed as well.

Santa was around some other
food source before he died.

My bet's on
milk and cookies.

This is not
Miracle on 34th Street.

ADDY:
We're not saying

this is actually Santa Claus.

We're merely anatomizing
the evidence.

Okay, it's still rough, but...

this might help.

BRENNAN:
Dad wants to

spend Christmas
with the family.

So how are you going
to arrange it,

bust me and Dad out?

There are trailers
for conjugal visits.

We might be able to
use one of those, and

I talked to Amy,
and she said

she could bring the
girls down to see you.

(buzzer sounds)

You shouldn't have done that.

Amy said the girls
had been asking about you.

I lied to them, Tempe.

The girls don't even know
I'm in here.

They think I went
overseas to work.

You're deserting them,
just like Dad.
You think it would be better

for them to find out that the
guy they think is so wonderful

is actually a criminal?
When I found out that

Dad was not dead, I was happy,

even though it turned
out that he was...

A murderer?

(sighs)
You are not a
murderer, Russ.

It doesn't sound like
a good Christmas present to me.

You could explain it...
No, Tempe,

it's not going to happen.

(snoring)

Can't you sleep on
your own couch?
Geez.

I'm just waiting
for the squints

to find out something.

Wha...? How'd it go with Russ?

He says he doesn't want
the girls to come.

Your Dad, he wants the whole
Christmas package-- you know,

the tree, the kids,
the presents, the whole shebang.
Well,

the whole shebang is impossible.
Christmas

is about making
the impossible happen.

You mean like you spending
Christmas with Parker.

Okay, you know what?

That hurt.

Wake me up when the squint squad
finds out something.

Victim appears to have
odd-shaped remodeling

on his sacrum, with a sclerotic
margin around the injury.

Some kind of
old injury?

Two small indentations

here, consistent
with trauma from impact

with some sort of cloven-hoof?

Cloven, like a reindeer?

Oh, thank God
you're here.

This is so wasted on me alone.
Evidence is evidence

whether anyone is there
to hear it or not.

Our victim was
kicked by a reindeer.
Oh,

get the hell out of here.
The sacrum.

MONTENEGRO:
Wait, wait.

The evidence actually

adds up to an old fat man

with a white beard
and a custom-made

Santa suit
who smoked a clay pipe

and got kicked in the
ass by a reindeer?

(computer chirping)

FBI lab got partial prints
off the gloves

and AFIS found a possible match.

Apparently, our victim worked
for the school board.

As a teacher?
No.

He was a Santa Claus.
MONTENEGRO:
A

Santa Claus?

Or the Santa Claus?

Check out his name.

"Kristopher Kringle."

According to AFIS,
it's his legal name.

Well, there's the old
Dutch "Sinterklaas..."

Watch out!
I'm looking.

You're going to get
hit by a car.

He had a partner
named Black Peter,

who carries a whip to
beat naughty children.

Myths are traditionally
used to control behavior.

For instance, the story of Moses
bringing the Ten Commandments...

Wait. You're equating
Moses to Santa?

Well, Santa's usually considered
more jolly, but basically.

Okay, great. We're
looking for 223 Hudson.

I'm sorry you can't be
with Parker, Booth.

What are you going
to do, right?

Well, he's got to face
the facts sometime.
No.

But she shouldn't take
him away, not at Christmas.

Not the way he
feels about you.

Oh, my God.
What?

He lives in
a toy store.

Oh.
(laughing)

(door bells tinkle)

Watch out for reindeer.

Yeah. Really funny.

* Have a holly,
jolly Christmas *
(train whistle blows)

Oh.
* It's the best time
of the year... *

Wow.

(train whistle blowing)

Parker would love
this place.
Oh.

(train whistle blows)

Look at this!

Gingerbread...
he's got the train.

* ...Jolly Christmas

BOOTH: Look at this.
* And when you walk
down the street *

* Say "Hello..."

BRENNAN:
Booth.
Yeah?

* ...and everyone you meet...

This might explain the reindeer
kick to Kringle's sacrum.

* The mistletoe,
hung where you can see *

* Somebody waits for you...

Ha! You got to be kidding me.
Bones, look at this. Wow.

This guy was committed.
* Have a holly,
jolly Christmas... *

Or should've been.

(whistles)

* Oh, by golly,
have a holly, jolly *

* Christmas this year...

*

Hey, Bones.

Check this out.

Hidden compartment.

(exhales)

Looks like Santa was planning
on buying a lot of toys.

(Booth whistles)

Kris rented this place
from me for six years.
Do you know

where he lived
before that?
Oh, actually, Bones,

that wasn't my first question.

He wrote his previous address
on the lease.

North Pole?
Aw! Come on with that.

See, it turned out
to be a good question.

You actually accepted
that address?
Are you kidding?

How many guys want to live
above a toy store? It's noisy.

And Kris gave me
first and last month,

up front, in cash.
BOOTH:
Aw.

Kris Kringle,
from the North Pole,

lives above a toy store--

this is further evidence
that our victim is,

indeed, the mythic figure
known as Santa Claus.
Mythic,

coming from the Latin "myth,"
meaning "doesn't actually

exist."
No, from the Greek
mythos, meaning "word."

He does not...
This right here is pretty...

What can you tell us

about Mr. Kringle's
personal finances?

Like I said,
he always paid cash.

Where did he work?
An employment agency
called Temp Time,

on 7th, by the
Convention Center.

Ha! Couldn't
have been Santa.
Why?

Because Santa wouldn't
have worked at a temp agency.

Well, why not?
His work is seasonal.

Because he wouldn't...

Kringle pay his rent on time?
Always.

At least,
until the last couple of months.

Really?

'Cause, you know what?
Obviously, he wasn't short

on funds with all the money we
found in the secret compartment

of his drawer.
LANDLORD:
Son of a bitch.

1,200 bucks of
that is mine.

All of this is
rumpled, small bills,

except for these--
eight $50 bills.
BOOTH:
Brand-new,

with sequential serial numbers.

I don't know about
any of this...
All right.

Whoa, whoa.
Did you, uh...

guys have some kind
of a disagreement?

Is that why he was
holding out on you?

No. No.

No.

Maybe. Kris gave me

some ideas on a toy,
which I patented and...

It sold?
Somebody took a picture
of TomKat's kid with it, so,

it sort of took off. (laughs)
BOOTH (whistles)
Wow.

Kringle could have sued you
for a chunk of that cash.

He never actually told me
he wanted a cut.

Maybe... he just
stopped paying his rent.

Thinking of Parker?

No.

Thinking about your dad?
No.

Russ.
Well, you can't
blame him for

not wanting those girls
to know the truth.
He's living

a lie. You'd never do that.

Well, not never.

I mean, I'd...
I lie to Parker,

especially this time of year.

What about?
I tell him that
Santa's coming.

Really?
It's Santa Claus!

But Santa myth
is based on blackmail.

Be good, or you won't
get any presents.

No, it's not a lie
lie, Bones. It's...

It's more like
everybody agreeing

that up to a certain age,

kids deserve to live a
different kind of truth.
Okay.

By that reasoning,
what we should do

is figure out a lie
Russ could tell the girls

so they wouldn't know
he was in jail.

That is a brilliant
Christmas idea.

It was intended to be
a scathing and incisive comment.

Give Russ civvies, the
girls think he's flown in

especially to visit his
father in jail at Christmas.

Where would
we say he's been?

Building a bridge
in... Adis Ababa.

Adis Ababa is the landlocked
capital of Ethiopia.
Fine, Bones.

You know what? Just
make up your own lie.
I don't
believe in lying to children.

You just want to go to Peru
without feeling guilty.

You need to accept

that you won't have Parker
this Christmas.

I am not enjoying this
holiday season at all.

Yeah, well, neither am I.

ADDY:
The shadow

on the X-ray is a
slight depression

of the outer
endocranial table.

Fracture's
levered inward.

There are no signs
of remodeling.

This...

localized staining

suggests that his superficial

temporal artery was punctured.

Very likely the cause
of death.
So Santa

was conked on the head.

The question is: with what?
I'll run it

under the scanning
electron microscope.

So... what are you doing
for Christmas?

Going home to Michigan.
What about you?

Family cruise.

Sounds nice.

You'd think so.

Let me know
what you find.

Kris is dead?

Afraid so.
Man!

I had a bad feeling
something was wrong.

I mean, it's not like
Kris to miss work.

Especially not this time of
year. I called him 100 times.

12. 12 times.

We listened to his
answering machine.

Oh, there are a lot
of Santas here.

MAN:
Yeah, but

Kris was my numero uno.

I mean, all the guys
knew that here.

In fact,
if it wasn't for him,

I never would've thought

about getting
into the Santa business.

Christmas is not going to be
the same without Kris Kringle.

Anthropologically, what exactly
would it mean to be a Numero Uno

Santa Claus?
Well, Kris got the best gigs.

Any of the other Santas--
they get jealous?

Jealous enough to kill? Come on.

MAN:
Is this about Kris?

Did-did something
happen to him?

Uh...

Who are you?

I-I'm... Jeff Mantell.

What happened to Kris?

Kris was murdered.

Everybody!

The dead Santa
on the news... it was Kris!

No!

Oh!
Aah!

Not Kris.
Oh, no.

What can you tell me
about Kris?

Kris made a guy proud
to wear the uniform.
Sure did.

That's the truth.

Was-was Kris murdered?

BOOTH:
Um, all the Santas

just need to take
a step back.

Any help you need, guys,
any-anything at all.

Why are you limping?
Oh. My shins. You
want to see them?

No. Why would I want
to see your shins?
Well,

children get to a certain age,
and they think

it's hilarious
to kick Santa in the shins.

(laughs)
That's what... I...
MAN:
Yeah.

All right, I'd like to talk to
anyone who knew Kris personally.
MANTELL: I only

met Kris at the diner, down the
street a couple of weeks ago.

Okay, whoever smells like
the wet sweater

really needs
to take a step back.

Ooh.
MANTELL:
I was out of work,
late on my alimony, and

the man saved me;
he got me this job.

Sad, but familiar tale
with Kris.

MAN:
Typical Kris.

Always looking to help out.
MAN:
He was

a saint.
Anybody know
of any trouble?

Or arguments?
Oh, come on.
Differences
of opinion?

I can't even
imagine that.
No.

The man was truly,
sincerely... jolly.

We couldn't find a record
of his bank account.
Oh.

Well, I-I cash Kris's checks.

What would
Mr. Kringle do

during the three
other seasons?

Well, Kris was my only
full-time, temp Santa.

You know, sometimes for the odd
ad campaigns who needed a Santa.

Car dealerships,
ice cream parlors.
MAN:
Sometimes

hospitals had
Christmas in July.

Ironically, the only night

Kris wouldn't work
was Christmas Eve.

His special night.

His night to deliver toys

and goodies around the world.

(chuckles)
We'd always tease him
about that.

He never denied it.

(Santas chuckling)

The maggots
in dead Santa's collar fed

on high concentrations
of non-sulfated

chondroitin glycosaminoglycans
and N-acetylneuramic acid.

This is why Booth
hates talking to you.

It's the regurgitated saliva
of male Aerodramus fuciphagus.

Wait, Booth hates
talking to me?

Not you specifically--
lab people.

What's Aerodramus
fuciphagus?

The main ingredient
in Bird's Nest Soup.

It's a rare
Chinese delicacy,

made from the nests
of swiftlets.

It's more like bird spit soup,
if you ask me.

So, our victim
was in China?

I'm thinking Chinatown
is more likely.

But I also found similar
traces of the same stuff

on the back of Santa's pants,
mostly on the rear end.

He sat in it?

Yeah, let's hope
that's how it got there.

How common is
this dish?

A single kilogram of white
swiftlet nests costs two grand.

Let's see who
makes it here in DC.

Done and done.

These people all
seem pretty upset

to have lost one of their own.

I mean, they keep
referring to "the uniform"

like soldiers or cops.

According to Hodgins,
Kris Kringle was probably killed

in or near a restaurant called
"Kom Jug Yuen" up in Chinatown.

Aw, come on. How'd
he figure that out?
Do you really want to know?

You tell me.
No, you don't.

I'm going to
trust you on that.
If you don't mind,

I have a meeting
with Caroline Julian

at your office in ten minutes.

This about the trailer
for your dad's Christmas?
You think

she'll help?
Well, you know, Caroline's
a lawyer. She'll help, but

she'll ask you to do
something in return.

That's fair.
Yeah, hold that thought.

I thought you were going
to Brazil for Christmas.

Peru.
Whatever.

South of the equator, doing
bone things with bone people.

I-I checked with the
people at the jail,

and for my father to get
the conjugal trailer,

the prosecutor in
charge of his case

has to submit a written
recommendation.

Uh-huh.

You're the prosecutor
in charge of his case.

I'm aware of that.
Thank you, Dr. Brennan.

Mm. Mm.

So... will you?

You going to Brazil
and all, what's the use

of Max being in that conjugal
trailer all by himself?

Well, I'm trying
to persuade my brother

to celebrate Christmas
with his family in there, too.

A yuletide gathering of the
Brennan criminal element.

What do you mean
"trying"?

Russ doesn't want
his stepdaughters to know that

he's in jail.
How do you persuade
them otherwise

if they're actually having
Christmas in the jail?

One other thing-- the warden
says "no Christmas tree."

That's right.
Three years ago,

somebody made
a shiv out of the star.

Now, no trees or ornaments
of any kind.

Uh, isn't that
a little dreary?

Hey, don't kill people,
don't get sent to prison,

have a Christmas pageant
in your own home every year.

So, will you?

Oh. I will.

You will?

Thank you.

On one condition.

Booth said you'd say that.

Did he say I'd ask
you to kiss him?

(laughing):
No.

Well, are you?

No cheeks, no noses,
right on the lips.

Well, people kiss people
on the nose?

I want you to kiss him
under some mistletoe.

(laughs):
Kiss Booth?

That's right, cherie.
Why?

Because it will amuse me.

Why?
Because you're all

"Dr. Brennan" and "Special
Agent Seeley Booth"

and it's Christmas, and
I have a puckish side

that will not be denied.

Puckish?
What's the matter?

You don't think
I can be puckish?
I never thought

about it
until now.

You want me
to write that letter,

you kiss Booth on the lips,
for no less than...

one-steamboat, two-steamboats...

five-steamboats.

That's blackmail.

That's correct.

That's unethical.

That's the deal.
Take it or leave it.

What about a tree?

No Christmas tree. No way.

Not even if you
squeeze his buttocks.

Well... I don't know.

Can I just... take you
out to dinner some time?

You kiss Seeley Booth
on the lips,

and I'll make sure your daddy
has his dream Christmas.

No tree, mind you,
but otherwise,

as good as an accused murderer
can expect.

(elevator chimes)
Mm...

BOOTH:
Look, you ever see
this man before?

Santa Claus?

No, this isn't actually
Santa Claus.

The guy that's wearing
the Santa outfit in this

picture--
have you ever seen him?

Can I see your I.D.
again, please?

(groans)
Booth.
What?

Your kid like roaches?
(hissing)

Gromphadorhina, man,
hissing roach.

Hey, grab me this container?

This is a great
pet, man.

Perfect Christmas gift.
(hissing)
Uh, no.

Did you find the bird's nest
maggots yet?

Not yet. I'm
still looking.

Okay, I'm calling
the cops.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!

Pal, hey, I am
the cops, all right?

Any fights out here back in the
alley in the past four days?
No.

I-I don't come out here
since I quit smoking. It stinks.

HODGINS:
It's the cycle of
life, my friend.

It's quite beautiful
if you get into it.

(chuckles, mutters)
Okay, you can go back inside.

But tell the rest of your staff
I'll be in in a few minutes

to ask them some questions.

(speaking Chinese)
Hey, pal,

you'd better hope I don't report
this to the health department.

(door closes)
Pay dirt.

Fannia,

Musca and Phoridae.

That is the exact maggots
I found on Kringle's suit.

Hmm.
It means this is where
he was killed.

So, if he was killed here...

then he was probably...

Uh.

...dragged
over here...

to this grate and...
dumped down this sewer.

An ignominious end

for Father Christmas, huh?

Whoa.
Whoa what?

Phew.

They were near the bottom.

No cash,

just I.D.s and credit.

Probably dumped there
by pickpockets.

You found cash in Kringle's
apartment, right?

Right.
Maybe he picked
one pocket

too many.
Mm-hmm.

Well, we're going
to find out the owners

of these wallets,
and, uh, see

if they know
any Santa pickpockets.

Booth?
Yeah?

You help me out of here?

See you later.

Booth!

Booth... oh, come on.

Vermont is gonna
be great, buddy.

Snowboarding. Just like
when we went to Liberty.

Mom says better
than Liberty.

Well, she's right.
Can't you come?

Parker...
If you tell Mom

that I don't want to go,

then we could spend
Christmas together.

Like we always do.

It's not gonna happen
this year, buddy.

When you get back,

me and you, we'll have our own
Christmas, just the two of us.

Without Captain Fantastic.
You know,

we shouldn't call Brent
"Captain Fantastic" anymore.

Why? You do.
Well, I won't anymore.

But it's funny.
No, it's disrespectful.

And if your mom
likes someone,

then we should respect
that and like them, too.

Is that true?
You like Brent?

Yeah, I do.
BRENNAN:
Wow.

BOOTH: Bones!
PARKER:
Are you gonna be

all alone
at Christmas?

Me? No. I'm not
going to be alone.

(clears his throat)
I'll be with Bones
and all our friends.

I'm going to Peru.
See? We're all

going to Peru.
You're having

Christmas in Africa?

No, actually, Peru is...
BOOTH:
Is Africa. Isn't

that right, Bones? Okay?

I'm going to be just fine,
so come on.

Go wash up before your mom gets
here to pick you up, all right?

Come here, buddy.
I love you.

I love you
too, buddy.

Go ahead.

(sighs)

You lied a lot to him.

It's the magic
of Christmas, Bones.

So, you want to tell me
what happened?

I'd just come out
of the check cashing place,

and I was off to do
some Christmas shopping.

BOOTH:
When you were
mugged by Santa.

Not mugged. It was just a bump
as I was walking out

of the place. I said,
"Excuse me," he ho-ho-ho'd,

we went our separate ways.
When did you realize
your wallet was missing?

An hour later at the PriceCo.

I'm in the checkout line,
I'm going to pay, and it's gone.

BOOTH:
Naturally you went back
the next day,

and you beat the crap
out of him.

I asked for my wallet back,

Santa plays all dumb,
and then it got physical.

It was 900 bucks, man.

Mr. Moussa,
there are hundreds of Santas

in the DC area
this time of year.

Come on, you and I are trained
law enforcement officers.

I got the right guy.
I mean, if it was him,

he definitely deserved
a beating.
It was him.

And he got off lucky
because of my self-control.

This guy, he ruined Christmas.

Egyptians--
they celebrate Christmas?

I am not Muslim, Agent Booth.

I am Coptic.

Me, my wife,
my children, we all

celebrate Christmas.

Except for maybe not this year,
because this guy took my money.

And what did you do to him?

I hit him.

I'm not proud of that.

No pushing? No tussling?

Just popped him once
in the schnoz, that's it.

You didn't roll around
in the alley?

What alley? We were in front
of a big box store.

So you didn't mean to kill him.

You just shoved him down
that manhole.
I-I...

I knocked him down. The people--
they don't know why.

They don't understand,
they're looking.

Maybe they think
I'm a terrorist,

so I get out of there.

Hmm. Right.

Do I need a lawyer?

Bones, PayFast Check
Cashing confirms

cashing Moussa's paycheck.

The teller gave him 900 bucks,
all crisp new 50s.

And Kringle had new 50s
in his dresser.
Yup, and the

serial numbers match.
Suggesting Kringle

is our pickpocket.
Mm-hmm. So we're getting
a warrant to analyze

Moussa's clothing.

If there's any bird
soup goop on them,

we'll know he's our killer.
What is with the mistletoe?

(sighs)
I was going to talk
to you about this.

Caroline wants us to kiss

under the mistletoe.
What?!

It's the only way she'll make
Christmas for my family.

Well, by having us kiss?
Yes.

Why?
Because she's feeling puckish.

Puckish? What's that mean?
Listen, Booth,

she's going to be here any
second. Do you want some gum?

No, my breath is just fine.

All right, look, I'll have
a talk with Caroline.

No.
No?

I'm only telling you out
of professional courtesy.

What?
So that you won't
be surprised.

When you say kiss,
you mean like kiss-kiss?

Like on both cheeks?
No, the lips.

Like brother and sister,
colleagues.

French people meeting
on the street.

Caroline's feeling
puckish, huh?

It means playful and impish.
Congratulations.

I hear you have a suspect
in the Santa slaying.

Yeah, well, well,
it looks like

the Easter Bunny has nothing
to worry about.

Did you talk to the judge
about the trailer?

Yes, I did.

What about your end?

Well, look at
that. Mistletoe.

You take a step
to your right...
BOOTH:
But...

...you'll be right under
that cute little sprig.

Uh...

I...

Was that enough steamboats?

Plenty. A whole flotilla.

I don't know what that means,
but, um.... Merry Christmas.

BRENNAN:
It was like

kissing my brother.

You sure must like your brother.

She does.

I do.
She does.

The trailer is all arranged.

You're good to go, cherie.

Merry Christmas.

I'm sure she feels
really foolish right now.

Yeah...

Well, hey, I, uh, I really
should... I should get back and

see if, uh,
the forensic

guy has got anything yet on

Moussa's...
That's a good idea.

Yeah, I've got... stuff...
to do, too. Yeah.

Yeah.
The... for... with bones.
(clears her throat)

I-I understand completely.

Oh. Thanks for the gum.

How you doing?
Hey.

Some metallic flakes
imbedded in the bone.

Trying to help Zack determine
what kind of weapon was used.

You know, this is our
first Christmas as a couple.

Aw, too bad Santa's dead.

I thought that we could make
Christmas decorations

for our tree.

Is that too corny?

It's what my family did
when I was little.

Oh.
And I always
thought, you know, when

I had my own family
that I'd carry on the tradition.

Are two people a family?

Isn't that how every
family starts?

Then I think us
making decorations

is just corny enough.

SWEETS:
I don't understand.

Has there been some kind
of crisis?
Yes, I have

a crisis.
Bones, it was
just mistletoe.

Not the kiss.
That was nothing.

You kissed?

Mistletoe!
That's not the crisis.

Was there tongue?
All right.

You know what? Get your
own sex life. (mutters)

Well, that has nothing
to do with sex.
Nothing.

No.
There was no s...

It was mistletoe.
Totally sexless.

I'm all ears.

Just take your hat off there.

BRENNAN:
Booth,

who is a very honest person,
says that at this time of year,

deception is necessary for the
happiness of little children.

No, I'm being misquoted.

Booth is absolutely right.
She got the gist.

Yeah, there's a fictional
element to Christmas.

BRENNAN:
Well, you mean the whole

"Birth of a Savior" rigmarole?
It is not rigmarole.

SWEETS:
No, no.
How do you know?

Dr. Brennan, it's-it's the, uh,
the feeling of Christmas.

What people call "The Christmas
Spirit"-- it's a kind of

dream or hope that we carry
with us from childhood.

But as adults...
BOOTH:
Are you

including you in that?

As adults, we're imbued by
the pragmatic routines of life,

which makes it difficult
for us to regard anything with

childlike wonder.

But, you know, it's all right
for us to try.

We put on silly hats and drape
trees with sparkly lights

and wrap gifts in garish paper,
and that's good for us.

It's not only all right
to allow children

the-the transient experience
of innocence and joy.

It's our responsibility.

Okay.

Okay?

I found that very helpful.

(chuckling):
What do you think I've been
saying for the past four days?

You're going to help me
lie to the girls?
Well,

apparently, it's not
morally wrong to lie

at Christmas.
What if they
know I'm lying?

Well, apparently, sometimes
lying is a kind of gift.

I'm hazy on the rules,

but the idea is even if
they know you're lying,

they know you're doing
it out of love.

Where are you
getting this?

Because I'm in jail,
and I'm getting better advice.

Look, Russ, we have a plan.

I bring you some civilian
clothes, the girls think

you popped in from Addis Ababa.

Addis Ababa?
Well, what did you
and Amy tell them?

We said I went to Burma.
Burma?
Well, who cares

where we chose? Burma's
on the other side of the world.

Russ, Burma doesn't
even exist anymore.

What happened to it?
It became Myanmar.

There's another problem
with the trailer.

No Christmas tree.

Why?

Shank material.

Is it important?

Christmas with no tree?

It's a disaster. Forget it.

They're young, Russ.

They believe in Santa Claus.

They believe
in you because

you love them, and
they'll sit on your lap

and they'll open
their presents

and they'll believe
in you and Burma

and-and maybe they won't notice
that there's no tree.

Look, Amy will be there,

Dad will be there,
the girls will be there.

And you?

I was going to, but...

we're not the only people
getting the trailer, and

I thought it would
be in the afternoon,

but now it's
Christmas Eve and...

I got to be on that plane.

To Peru?

Yeah.
Tempe,

Dad wants us all.

I mean, you're one of us.

You found what
killed Kris Kringle?

We know what it was made of.

And we know the shape.

SAROYAN:
Something crescent-shaped

and brass?
I couldn't find
anything this shape,

but by making a slight
paradigm shift...

The paradigm shift
is my idea.
And

slightly change

the angle...
SAROYAN:
A circle,

not a crescent.
I believe

the mark left
on Kris Kringle's skull

was the result of being struck
with a circular object

approximately 15 centimeters
in diameter.

Six inches.

A bell. A brass bell.

Meaning he was probably
attacked by another Santa.

Everybody have your bells?

(loud ringing)

BOOTH:
All right, all right!

Enough! Stop!

(ringing stops)

You can tell the elves
they can go now.

Elves, go for coffee.
See you later.

All right,
you heard him.
Excuse me!
Watch it!

DALE: What's the use of
Elves without Santa?

Those bells are all the same.

DALE:
Yeah, I buy 'em in bulk.

I sell them
to the Santas for cost.

Is that Kris's idea?
Yeah.

How did you know?
Just getting a feel
for the guy.

Listen, we have
a warrant here to

inspect your bells.

Inspect our what?

Bells, Larry.
Uh, why?

Agent Booth and I are going
to swab each of your bells with

a cotton ball soaked
in phenolthalein.

Is it gonna sting?
Bells, Larry. She said bells.

MAN:
You need

a hearing aid, Larry.

Why are they antisepticising
our bells?

Well, ho, ho,
ho, ho.

Ho. Steady there, Santa.

Why do you need a warrant
to disinfect a bell?

What's the matter there, Santa?
They're looking for something,

and they're not telling us.
Look,

I read the warrant.
It's the law.

Just give 'em the bell.
It's no biggie.
Just give 'em the bell...

Jeff, just show them
the bell.
Come on, give us your bell.

Help 'em out.
No.
BOOTH:
Listen, buddy,

I'm not going to see my son
for Christmas this year,

so I'm a little annoyed
with Christmas

and everything
that comes along with it, so

give the lady the bell.

Give her the bell.
Give him a break.

Come on, go ahead.

Thank you.

The brass plating
on this bell is chipped.

BOOTH:
Oh, look at that.

Okay, Santa, you're under arrest
for murder.

What?!
This bell is the weapon
that killed Kris Kringle.

No. No, no, no.
I didn't kill Kris.
You killed Kris?

Come on, guys,
we switch bells

all the time.
Now that's true.

All-all of our bells
are identical, you know.

We put one down, and then
we just pick up another.

Okay, just hold on to your
bells there for a second.

Any-any ideas?

No.

Come on, think, Bones,
paint the picture.

It's got to be one
of these guys. I mean,

half of these guys
owe Kringle the money.

One of them's a pickpocket.
Ah.

Gets money
from the Egyptian.
LARRY:
Look,

could we go?
BOOTH:
Cool your jets,

Santa. Go have a cookie
and some egg nog.

Hey.
Kringle gets

suspicious, he catches

the pickpocketer
dumping the wallet

in the Dumpster,
confronts him...

We have to sniff
their behinds.
We have to sniff...

You lost me there.

All right, everybody
up against the wall!

(indistinct chatter)
Or, okay, put your
hands on the table.

First of all,
that's my job,

and second... why?
They fought.

They rolled around through
the bird's nest soup goop.

Right. Good thinking.
That's good.
Yeah. Thank you.

Except for the sniffing
their butts thing.

Okay, you start over
there, I'll start here.
Wait, wait, wait, wait.

You're gonna sniff my guys?

(sniffing)

(groans)

Geez. All right,

this is officially
the worst Christmas ever.

(sniffing)

(sniffing)

MAN:
I don't know.

Don't you need
a warrant for this?

Hey, pal, why don't
you just be quiet?

Turn around.
Yeah.
MAN: Come on.

Bird's nest soup.
Bird's nest soup.
It's Jeff!

He killed Kris!
Jeff killed Kris!

(groaning, indistinct chatter)
BRENNAN:
Whoa. Whoa!

Are you going to pull them off?

Fine. Watch this.

Hey!
(ringing bell)

How do you like
it now, Santas?

BRENNAN:
Get off of him.

Everybody off!
MAN:
Let him alone.

!BOOTH:
On your feet. You're
under arrest. Let's go.

The man is a disgrace
to his uniform.

Yeah.
Sure is.
* You

* Better watch out

SANTAS:
* You better not cry

* You better not pout,
I'm telling you why *

* Santa Claus
is coming to town. *

* Big fat Santa's on his way

* Big fat Santa's
on his way *

* Big fat Santa's
on his way tonight *

* You better watch out,
you better not cry *

* You better not pout,
I'm telling you why *

* Santa Claus
is coming to town... *

* Big fat Santa's
on his way *

* He's making a list,
he's checking it twice *

* He's gonna find out
who's naughty and nice *

* Santa Claus
is coming to town... *

* Big fat Santa's
on his way *

* He sees you when
you're sleeping *
* He's coming, he's coming *

* He knows when
you're awake *
* He's coming, he's coming *

* He knows when you've
been bad or good *
* He's coming, he's coming *

* So be good
for goodness sake *

* You better watch out,
you better not cry *

* You better not pout,
I'm telling you why *

* Santa Claus
is coming to town *

* Big fat Santa's
on his way *

* Big fat Santa's on his way *

* Big fat Santa's
on his way tonight *

* You better watch out,
you better not cry *

* You better not pout,
I'm telling you why *

* Santa Claus is coming
He's fine, Rebecca.

* To town...
Now just listen.

I will get him back
to you in time tomorrow

before you leave
for Vermont.

I hate Vermont.
No, I didn't
tell him to say that.

* He's gonna find out
who's naughty and nice... *

He didn't have
to find the FBI;

he just went up
to a cop on the street,

told him he was lost

and said that his dad
works at the FBI.

* He sees you when
you're sleeping *
* He's coming, he's coming *

* He knows when
you're awake *
* He's coming, he's coming *

* He knows when you've
been bad or good so *
* He's coming, he's coming *

* Be good
for goodness sake *

* You better watch out,
you better not cry *

* You better not pout,
I'm telling you why *

* Santa Claus is coming

* To town
* Big fat Santa's *

* On his way tonight. *
Come on, in you go. That's it.

Okay, buddy,
here's the deal.

We get to spend Christmas day
together, but then,

I got to take you
to Vermont, understand?

Okay. Will you miss Africa?

Africa? No.

I'd rather spend
time with you.

(laughs)
Do we got a tree?

We got two trees.

Two trees?
Two.

Why?
All right, come on,
I'll show you. Come on.

Here, I want you
to try this, honey.

(girls quietly chatting)
Are they having fun?

What are you talking about?
Of course they are.

And by the way, this
is the best Christmas

that I have had
in 16 years.

Me, too.
(phone ringing)

Oh.

Mm. Oh, my God.

What's wrong?
BRENNAN:
What is this?

It's just a little good cheer
I-I made under the mattress.

Ugh. Booth?

Bones, hey, good news.

Turns out I got Parker
for Christmas after all.

Christmas magic, right?

Hey, so we figured
we'd call and, uh,

wish you a little, uh,
yuletide cheer.

Merry Christmas, Bones.

Thanks, Parker.

Hey, if that's Booth,
you wish him

merry Christmas
for me, will you?

My dad says merry Christmas.

Listen, Bones, uh,

I got a little something
for you.

Oh, I got you something, too.
We can, um...

exchange gifts in
a couple days.

Go to the window
and open up the blinds now.

What?

(Booth laughs)

Hey... everybody,

it looks like we got
our tree after all.

What?! A tree?!

Oh, my gosh!
So exciting!

Yes!
Isn't it pretty?

Merry Christmas.

I love my gift, Booth.

GIRL:
All the lights on it.
It's so pretty.

Merry Christmas, Bones.

GIRLS:
It's the best Christmas ever!

What's that mean?

Captioned by
Media Access Group at WGBH