Original subtitles

All: Three... Two... One!

Happy New Year! Woo!

Any resolutions, Dave-Pierre?

Eh, maybe get a shrink. How 'bout you?

I'm gonna stop eating carbs,

be nicer to my Mom,

become the next Successor--

My New Year's resolution

is to find out if those titties of yours

are as pointy as your ears.

You know, I'd normally find that repulsive,

but you're actually inspiring me to like

make Santa Inc. safe from predators who

force women to remain scared and silent,

so... thank you.

(joyful music playing)

(sirens wailing)

Santa: Timmy the Toy Guy would also make a decent Successor.

Larson in Chocolate is solid.

Below 85 degrees at least.

And Junior wants to put his nose in the ring.

-Ha! Nose? Hello? -(slurping)

I'm droppin' fuckin' bombs here, c'mon!

You really want me to stop blowing you

just to acknowledge that terrible joke?

-I mean, I will. -Yeah, some sort of acknowledgment.

(sighs) Okay.

(laughs)

Ah, hilarious!

Was that really better than me sucking your dick?

Ho, ho, ho shit! Oh, Mrs. Claus.

How awesome would I be to have chosen the first Black Successor,

and then, the first woman Successor?

You know how firsts of any kind turn me on.

Candy's a Jew, too.

She checks off two boxes: woman and Jew.

Holy shit!

Holy shit! A woman and a Jew?!

I'll go from historic to, like, fuckin' legendary!

Oh my god! Enough!

Uh, can I ask what your problem is?

We made a New Year's Eve resolution

to improve our sex life an hour ago,

and you've already blown it off.

That's categorically insane. I just nutted.

-Think we're doin' okay. -Ugh!

♪ ♪

Ah, the North Pole University interns on their first day.

Look at those adorable, excited faces.

-So, who did you assign to me? -Fat guy in cargo shorts.

Candy: Why not a fat girl in cargo shorts?

Assigning you a woman

just because she's a woman

is mad discriminatory.

Will you relax? Brent was a man,

and I couldn't have dreamed of a better mentor,

up until he abandoned me.

I wonder who's gonna be doing

the State of the Workshop speech tonight.

I wish it could be me, but I--

You know, Santa will probably just step in.

All right, let's do this.

Hello, the future!

-(interns cheering) -I am Candy Smalls, acting Head of Operations.

Let me tell you about myself.

As a kid, I was working in the candy factory

when Brent discovered me.

He saw my excitement,

how fast my hands wrapped the mints,

and he taught me everything he knew.

Today, you are about to take a giant step

into your future career.

-And I mean giant. -(interns laughing)

-So let's get started! -(cheering)

Ooh, she's good. I felt that in my gut.

Bravo, Candy!

And welcome, NPU seniors!

My old alma mater.

South Pole U Football sucks dick!

Go Mighty Mistletoes!

-Good morning, Santa! -Hello, I am the intern to you, Candy Smalls.

Uh, my name is Devin Johnson.

Great to meet ya, Devin Johnson.

Let's get goin'. I got a meeting

with the Head of Toys, and you're comin' with me.

W-With Timmy the Toy Guy?

The dude who put the "B" in Furby?

The "X" in Xbox?

The man who said on May 3, 1978,

"This doll's patch should be one of cabbage"?

(shouts): Let's freakin' go!

I'm about to meet the most exciting

person who ever lived!

The idea sparked at the urgent care waiting room.

I sprained my hand,

it's fine,

and ran into a mole who had been concussed

-with a mallet. -Can we just--

He told me that moles' lives

have been destroyed by the game Whack-A-Mole.

Yes, I've heard this before.

So I thought we could protect

the enchanting species

with our next big Christmas toy,

Smash-A-Sloth.

(game beeping)

There he goes.

I just have a thought.

Never mind, I'm a loser who sucks.

Stop it! Tell me what you're thinkin'.

And, you know, never say "I suck"

before you pitch an idea. No idea sucks.

Well, I just think now moles will be safe,

but won't sloths be terrorized?

Maybe the whack'ed should be something that deserves it,

like Whack-A-White Supremacist.

(phone ring tone): It's Santa, yay!

Holy shit fuck.

Santa just texted me for the first time ever.

He wants to see me.

I should frame this. No, I should get over there.

All right, good start, Timmy. Why don't you get going on

the new and improved Devin angle?

-Okay. -Oh, wow!

I was sooo into your speech to the interns, Candy.

Help me!

I was sooo into it.

You inspired and you entertained,

two very important Santa qualities.

Did you like when I held up my shoe?

That was pure improv.

I loved it! I was like, how-wha-whe-wha-what?

Did she come up with that last night?

Write it down and then find a way to do it?

Blew my fuckin' mind. That's all I can say.

And that is why I want you to give

the State of the Workshop speech tonight.

(screams) Oh my god! Ah! So honored.

Just blown away, but still standing here, but just blown away.

I took your words of wanting to be Successor to heart.

Because I am, in fact, the coolest, dopest Santa ever.

I'm sorry, I need to scream more.

(high-pitched screams) Oh my god! Oh my god!

(screams)

I think it's exciting, too.

It's great for the Board

to see a woman take the helm.

Yes, love the optics.

Love that you're hearing me.

Loving everything about this.

I'm, I'm gonna go prepare.

Just do the same thing Brent did every year.

The Board loves it, and another friendly word of advice, Candy,

Don't fuck this up, or your shot at being Successor

is fucking doomed!

(ominous music playing)

Oh my god, I'm kidding! Ah! That was so--

You should've seen your face! I totally had you.

(nervous laughter)

You've been had, lady.

Anyway, you'll be great.

Get me out of here!

Wow, can you believe this day?

-Maybe I'm a good luck charm? -I'm a good luck charm.

Snowflakes are the rabbit's foot of the North Pole.

Ooh, somebody's getting jelly of the new guy.

Don't worry. I've got enough love for both of you.

-(Jeremy giggles) -Okay, cancel my lunch with Cookie and Goldie.

I need to clear my day, and prepare for this speech.

Now, let's start by checking out Brent's old tapes.

I'm there every year, but I'm always behind the scenes.

I'm never up close watching it.

-(audience cheering) -(pony neighs)

Members of the Board, Santa Claus,

our beloved press, welcome.

Only 360 days until Christmas Eve,

and this one is going to be better than ever.

Because at Santa Inc., the State of the Workshop is

strong as a reindeer's petrified shit!

So here's some early presents for all of you!

Woo-hoo!

Yeah, that's for you. You deserve it. You deserve it.

Open it up!

Jesus, can I really do that?

No, you need charisma for this.

Like Brent and Santa and me.

Ah! I'm panicking. Somebody get me

guacamole and chips, so I can stress eat.

(phone ringing)

Brent?

How's Seattle? Hope it's not raining,

but I'm sure it is, so get used to being

slightly wet all the time, damp sucka!

You have a right to be mad at me. I'm sorry.

(cries) Why'd you leave me?

It was a last-minute thing. Okay? I know, I suck.

Yeah, I'll have the Amazon Prime Rib, medium rare.

Coming right up.

Anyways, I wanna talk about you,

Lady Ambition.

I heard you put the Successor feelers

out to Santa, and you're givin'

the State of the Workshop speech tonight?

How did you know?

Oh, is Alexa some kind of like

illegal surveillance device?

Hey, this speech is major exposure.

Have you watched my old tapes?

Just did and your razzle-dazzle is insane.

I just... I don't have that in me.

Oh, fuck off, Candace. I've seen your karaoke moves.

Prime rib at prime speed.

The dips, the meaningful eye contact.

Yeah, I guess my mic skills have been called magical

by many of all backgrounds.

Just believe in yourself the way I believe in you.

Say it. Say it. Say it. Say it. Say it. Say it.

(shouts): I believe in myself!

(laughs) Okay, this could work.

And, maybe, I could add my own, uh, spin to the speech.

You know, butter up the Board with some

-sexy new innovation talk-- -Ugh, God, no!

Just ride in on the mini pony, shoot glitter bombs,

say, "Next Christmas will be the best ever,"

then smother them with swag.

Here comes the airplane, sir.

Gotta go. Love ya, kid.

Shit, she looks calmer.

A happy Candy means more work.

That is correct, my friend!

Now, fasten your seatbelts! It's gonna be a hell of a show!

-Ha-cha-cha! -Yes. Ha-cha-cha!

-Oi. -C'mon, everyone!

Candy and Devin: Ha-cha-cha!

Ha-cha-no.

All right, Jeremy, play the mini pony one more time.

Then you can finish filling the swag bags.

No, no more!

I did not write a college thesis

on racism in the Bismarck Empire

so I could play a mini pony.

I'll be the pony. Of course, I'll be--

It's an honor to be the pony,

and really just to be in this room.

And I wanna hear more about Brent, too.

His efficiency is the stuff of legends.

I know. Every year when Brent was in charge,

the sled went .6% faster than the year before.

Guess who finally banged Donner last night?

Not y'all! Holla!

Goldie, I thought we canceled our lunch.

Oh, hello there. I love me a lumber-jock in cargo shorts.

What is your name, sweetie?

The streets call me Devin...

but you can call me Baby.

Girl, look what I stole from under Donner's bed.

Devin: Christmas Spirit bars?

Those are only for the reindeer A-Team. Very, very rare.

I know. I had one this morning, and they're good as fuck.

But I'm gonna sell the rest

since my health insurance sucks.

Oh shit! This is my song!

-What song? -The beat of the Tejano music.

(sings) Tejano-jano-jano music.

-There's no music. -Come here, baby!

(vocalizing)

Okay, no stripping in my office, please.

I need them cargo shorts all up on my body.

Uh, I think you need some air, Goldie.

I'll be five minutes, max.

The A-Team reindeer get everything!

Energy bars, a month-long January retreat!

It's really fucked up!

What is with these mood swings today?

You were salsa dancing three minutes ago,

and now you're in a rage spiral--

You destroyed my lunch,

you token elf cunt!

Uh, wow.

Every word of that sentence is unacceptable

in an evolved society.

Yo' face is unacceptable in an evolved society.

Now I'll be late. He hates it when we're late!

Apologize to my friend, you dick!

Yes, I'm a dick with a massive dick.

And you'll never get yo' pathetic B-Team paws on it.

-(yells) -Whoa, not the nose!

(yelling)

Hey BFFs, aren't we having lunch?

What's the hold up?

Help me, Cookie!

Goldie's fucking losing it!

-Stop! -My nose is insured for a billion dollars,

-you shit-eating whore. -Goldie: Nuh-uh!

That motherfucka did not just slut shame me!

Get back here!

Candy: Goldie, let me down!

I need to get Brent's sequined turtleneck

tailored for my speech!

-(intense music playing) -(horn honking)

-Hey! -(tires screeching)

-Ah! -Ahh!

Whoa!

Ahh!

Whoa! Junior! Awesome!

Hey, watch it, you random bitch!

♪ ♪

Goldie: Where'd he go?

You guys saw him too, right?

Is this real?

Goldie, honey, you're having a bit of an episode,

but Cookie's going to help you through this, okay?

Get your shit together!

-Ow! -(grunting)

It's so weird when you guys do this.

-(grunting) -(yelling)

Cookie: Jump into the tree!

I know it seems counterintuitive, but do it!

(grunting)

(sighs) I really don't have time for this.

(grunts)

Whoa!

Ahh!

Ew, gross. The fancy chute was misleading.

Eh, maybe they got a deal. Good for them.

Ugh, there's not even cell service down here.

Ugh, I'm committing career suicide!

Don't be dramatic, or there'll be no room for me to be dramatic.

It's my dominant character trait!

You get bossy and screechy, and I get dramatic!

That is a very fucked-up world view,

but let's table that for now

'cause we need to get out of here.

♪ ♪

-Dasher? -You'll go down in history?

No, I'll go down in history!

Like Jesus, motherfuckers! (laughs)

(softly): The secret is low and slow.

-Blitzen? -That's how you make scrambled eggs, ooh.

Low and slow.

You have to keep stirrin' it,

much like a risotto.

What is going on here?

The A-Team is supposed to be at their annual

January retreat.

The hell? God!

Cookie, do you have a wet wipe?

I should because I am constantly

covered in vomit or red wine,

but you know why I don't?

Because I'm a horrible mother,

-and a sloppy drunk. -Wait! Shh!

Reindeer: ...one was too many, and 1,000 was never enough.

I found that at the end of the rainbow

was just a gutter filled with prostitutes.

Will you shut these babies up? I don't belong here.

Is that you, or your nose talking?

One and the same. I've always been different,

but the good kind, a special different.

It's in our differences where we find our commonalities.

Your nose is to you what Prancer the Third's

prolapsed anus is to him.

I've learned that my anus is what makes me beautiful and unique.

Oh my god, I think this is a rehab.

Dr. Almonds: You carry a heavy burden, Junior.

Trying to live up to your legendary father.

Just let go and be you.

(cries) Y-You're right. You're right.

(cries)

Every time I make my nose change color,

it's just me cryin' out, "Look at me, Daddy!

Love me, Daddy! Love me!"

And the sad part is, that asshole resents me for it.

He'd love me more if I had just been some no-nosed loser.

I love you all. (cries)

That's insane. I know every inch of Santa Inc.,

every inch of the North Pole. I've never heard of this place.

-Checking in? -Ahh!

(sighs) That was stupid, ah!

Should we have left the office without Candy?

Bad intern! Bad intern!

I don't know. I left her multiple messages.

Well, one. Somewhere between one and none.

-Now start unloading the swag. -Holy shit! It's the Board!

Cardinal Stryker, Mayor Foster,

Frederick Arthur, the CEO of North Pole Enterprises!

They're the real power. Santa may run the company,

but they get the final word over every major decision.

Press: Santa! Santa, over here!

Wow, Mrs. Claus.

She's even sexier than on my advent calendar.

Stop drooling. We need to get ready for Candy. Where is she anyway?

-(banging) -Candy (shouts): Let me out!

I have a speech to give!

Do you know who I am?! I am a very high-level executive at Santa Inc.!

I know that's all true, but in this context,

you just sound delusional.

Here you are.

I've been expecting you now that you're in charge

of day-to-day operations.

Tell me, where you surprised when you discovered

the Christmas Spirit bars were actually meth?

-I know I was. -Crystal meth?!

I'm on crystal meth?!

Oh, so you didn't know.

Whoopsie.

Frederick Arthur: Where's this girl of yours, Nick?

She better be worth the wait.

Candy's the greatest, but you know women,

fashionably late.

Did I ever tell you guys about Sting's chimney?

A hollowed-out elephant tusk. Very smooth ride.

They never should've outlawed ivory.

(whispers): Yo, Jingle Jim! Where the fuck is Candy?

Find her, you fucking dick.

Well, the A-Team eats the bars

for maximum speed on Christmas Eve.

Then, every January, they come here to sober up.

Brent's been doin' this for over a decade.

There's no way that's true.

Brent makes me matzo ball soup when I'm sick.

The man is a mensch, he's not a drug dealer!

Think about it. How do you think

Brent was able to beat delivery time records

year after year.

Whose job depended on efficiency?

Who got all of the accolades, and bonuses?

Private island-sized bonuses.

Brent told me he bought that island with family money.

Shit, my Brent is... evil?

I guess it all makes sense if I think about it.

He did a Men of Efficiency Calendar for god sakes,

and every month was him.

Forget Brent. Focus on your own goals and mine.

Make your speech, become a Successor,

get me off that bench, and then--

She's right. I need to get to the State of the Workshop.

I'll take care of Goldie. Just go.

(upbeat music playing)

Oh, shit! Am I fucked?

You're just a few minutes behind,

but before you go on, I have something I wanna say.

You'll be great up there

because you're great at your job,

and a good person.

The way you had my back at the toy factory?

No one's ever done that for me.

Not my Mom, Dad, siblings, or dentist, who's also my uncle.

Thank you, Candy, for believing in me.

Brent: Candy, it's Brent. I believe in you.

But I also believe in the power of meth.

Candy! Finally!

Pony is ready.

Now after the glitter bombs,

Devin and I will wheel out the swag--

The plan's changed.

I don't need to throw glitter bombs,

or ride in on some dumb mini pony.

I happen to have a PhD, Madam!

-But Brent always-- -Brent was Brent, and I am me.

Donate all the swag bags to

the Home for Retired Elf Coal Miners.

I need to do this my way.

-(audience cheering) -Woo!

Everyone! Welcome to our esteemed Board Members of Santa Inc.,

to Santa Claus, members of the press, and special guests,

and a spy from President's Day! Security, please remove him.

I am Candy Smalls, and this is the annual

State of the Workshop.

Now I wanted a chance to talk about the future of Santa Inc.,

and the changes that need to be made.

It was Santa Claus the Fifth who wrote,

"Do one thing every day that scares you."

I couldn't agree more because change is hard,

but we can do it in an honest and efficient way...

Our reindeer are strong and capable.

With the help of auto-reindeer on the sleigh,

and the use of B-Team alternates to prevent burnout,

I am confident we can achieve record times every year.

One day, one day, one day--

(softly): Uh, fuck.

Excuse me one minute.

What the fuck?

Fuck me! The Board is bored.

This is a nightmare.

We need to perk them up and fast, but how?

(gasps)

Hey, let's give everyone

a little piece of the Christmas Spirit bars,

just a tiny piece.

Yeah, it'll perk them up because...

I-- because it's, it's sugar!

All right, good talk.

Okay, some more ideas to achieve maximum efficiency.

Dismantle the naughty versus nice system.

Coal is heavy, and makes the sleigh go .7% slower.

One of the many benefits... from the coal mine shutdown

can be used on a more comprehensive health insurance

which will create happier workers,

and we all know happier workers are faster workers.

Healthy efficiency, people. It's possible.

Just give us our free shit already, toots!

Me likey swag!

Oh, no swag bags this year.

They're too crass and materialistic.

(shouts): So is Christmas, you asshole!

Boring!

Board Member: Shut your lady face!

Jeremy: Everyone, look up here!

She needs a diversion.

Jeremy to the rescue!

Float, float, float.

Somebody has a gun!

(all shouting)

That did not go as planned.

(car alarm blaring)

-Ah! -(commotion)

(neighing)

Jesus! This is a fucking coup!

Why didn't you just follow Brent's playbook?

Seriously? Seriously?

This was your shot to impress the Board, and you fuckin' blew it.

I am not Brent, and if you want to know the truth Santa,

Brent wasn't... Brent... Brent wasn't--

He wasn't what?! Speak!

-Honestly, you bored the fuck out of everyone. -Ahh!

I thought you had the entertainer bug in you. It doesn't matter.

It's so key to being a Successor, and you don't have it.

Ugh, well then maybe you should witness

my karaoke skills, bitch!

I'm sorry. I just think there needs to be

some changes around here. Like now.

Don't talk to me about change.

I chose the first Black Successor. Capital "B."

Now that was some change you can fuckin' believe in.

Well done, Candy.

I always thought Brent's addresses

were more like trips to the circus.

While yours was like a Holocaust documentary.

You had my heart and my head.

That was exactly what I was going for.

I feel like you get me, like if you wanted to get--

I would love to get coffee with you,

or just pick your brain.

(blows raspberry) All right, that's it.

Let's go.

Jingle Jim: I'm gonna melt ya down,

drink ya like a shot of vodka, and piss you into the gutter!

Cookie: There you are.

Ugh, I fucking blew it, Cookie.

-Now what am I gonna do? -Cookie: The obvious.

Get black-out drunk, and show the world what you're really made of.

Candy: ♪ Every storm runs out of rain ♪

♪ Just like every life is not all pain ♪

♪ So try to burn me with deceit and lies ♪

♪ Because in the end, like a phoenix ♪

♪ I'll rise ♪

(cheers and applause)

♪ ♪

♪ Every storm runs out of rain ♪

♪ Just like every life is not all pain ♪

♪ So try to burn me with deceit and lies ♪

♪ 'Cause in the end ♪

♪ Like a phoenix ♪

♪ I'll rise ♪

♪ In the end ♪

♪ Like a phoenix ♪

♪ I'll rise ♪