Original subtitles

(grand music playing)

(commotion)

(indistinct chatter)

I'm here live outside of Santa's mansion,

where he and The Board have been meeting all day

on the decision for who will be the next Successor.

Recent polls show Candy Smalls

has a commanding lead over her rivals,

despite initial concerns that the public

would reject a female Santa.

Now, as soon as that Christmas tree behind me lights up,

the choice for Successor will have been made.

Candy Smalls is the worst boss ever!

She forced me to do horrible things,

and then fired me when I wouldn't.

Breaking news! Are you referring to coerced sexual acts?

Ew, no! She made me work even when I was hungover.

(cheers and applause)

Mazel Tov!

There is a new Successor, folks.

And keeping with tradition, in exactly 30 minutes,

Santa will announce who will be the next

face of Christmas!

T-minus 30 until a vagina finally sits in the red suit!

Or another penis. Who knows?

Everybody, drink up!

(cheering)

Ha, ha.

I have a really good feeling about tonight.

(joyful music playing)

♪ ♪

I'm Jonathan Silverbell, and we are 28 minutes away

from this historic moment.

Any thoughts on Candy Smalls?

This "Candy-monium" may be "inspiring" and "cute,"

but it's unearned.

Santas have always been male.

For the same reason there have only been male explorers

or U.S. Presidents or serial killers.

I think Timmy the Toy Guy would make a much more solid choice.

But not from a psychological standpoint.

For Santa, every chimney jump

is a trip down the vaginal canal, a re-birth.

Since Timmy was a C-section baby,

this is irrelevant to him.

Are you all crazy? Timmy's a fucking Neo-Nazi!

And I know I call a lot of people that,

but he really is.

Keep the rumors in your annex, Anne Frank.

Oh my! You have to watch this, Nick.

Look at that crowd.

It's like I'm headlining Coachella!

It's exciting.

The announcement of the first female Santa.

I assume you're picking Candy, right?

You know I'm sworn to secrecy but trust me,

I'm makin' the right choice, a solid choice.

C'mon, just tell me it's Candy so I can relax.

I know how to get it out of you.

Yes, I do.

(laughs) Oh-ho, I can't tell!

I took an oath! (laughs)

It's serious business even though I'm laughing!

Fucking stop! I don't like it. Stop.

When you chose Brent, I was in on every moment of that decision.

Oh yes, that's when I was a partner,

and not just some idiot wife.

Honestly, I don't have the energy for this fuckin' shit, dude, okay?

Tonight's clutch time. All I need is support. Thank you.

Candy Smalls, insiders say you've got this locked up.

Well, there are several contenders

here who would make fantastic Santas.

I guess what I'm saying, Cuthbert, is I'm hopeful,

but I'm not measuring the drapes quite yet.

Measure this, viper!

Hello, eligible men of the world!

I'm the Mommy.

Uh, no. Not my Mother.

Just a schizophrenic drug-addicted rapist.

I, I should probably get her back to prison.

Too bad, I was hoping to interview your

nearest and dearest.

Get the insight on the real you.

Well, you should talk to my best friends.

They're, uh, um, where are they?

We really have to go to this shit?

Stop asking me that, yes!

Our best friend is about to become the next Santa.

We have to be there.

She just doesn't seem like my best friend anymore.

Come on. She's busy.

And that allows her to completely blow us off

after 20 years of friendship?

We just need to rally for the bitch.

(gasps) Wow, when I say "bitch," I kind of mean "bitch."

That's intense. C'mon, Craig!

Jemma, keep Fun Size away from the scissors.

He's obsessed with them lately.

Larson, uh, polls show that you're way down

because of recent allegations of infidelity,

sexual harassment, and statutory rape.

Would you like to say anything

to the women who feel betrayed by you?

L-Look, let me be clear.

I am a man who loves women.

Like my hot wife, and hot adult stepdaughters.

But a woman doesn't have to be hot for me to love her.

To me, the sexiest woman who ever lived is Eleanor Roosevelt.

(retches)

(laughs) I don't believe any

of these insane allegations.

How could my husband be such a monster

when he surprised me with Celine Dion tickets

-for our anniversary? -And in the mezzanine, too!

Not cheap.

Everyone knows how much I care

about the welfare of women.

Grandpa Smalls: Everybody! This is the big night!

But let's not forget what's truly important:

we get 10% of all winners' bets. Ha-hoo!

You can't do that in here. It's fucking illegal!

(softly): But let's see how I'm doing.

Ooh, even odds! Woo! Yes, bitch!

All the retired coal miners bet on you, even though

I told them you suck, and you turned your back on us elves.

Grandpa, just please calm down.

I have a strategy, trust me.

Ooh, a stratège. Fancy-schmancy.

You're ruthless, Candy.

I told you to be a snake,

and you turned into a fucking anaconda.

Somehow, I suspect you're all gonna magically love me again once I'm made Santa.

Candy, I know you're ashamed of me,

but I never, ever thought the day would come

where I would be ashamed of you.

You've been ashamed of me my entire life.

That was just a motivational parenting tactic.

This is the first time I mean it.

(huffs)

-There she is! Candy! -Woo!

Frat Guys (chanting): Candy!

Frat Guy 1: Candy's the man!

Frat Guy 2: Igma Loo's goes big for Smalls!

(laughs) Thanks for the love, everybody!

Candy forever!

Junior: Tonight is momentous!

Like Jesus' resurrection and the Book of Revelation rolled up in one.

But if God doesn't want me to be Successor,

then I will accept His other gift to me:

being the leader of His reindeer disciples.

Which is probably way more important than Santa anyway.

Unless he chooses me as Successor.

And then, that's the shit!

It's in the Book of Revelations!

-Congregation: Yes! -Jesus take me!

(speaking tongues)

What the fuck? Quick, cut to something else!

The terror you feel?

Multiply that by a thousand,

and that's how women

and BIPOC feel at every moment.

Shit, that bitch is pissed.

Yeah, girl! Millennial the shit outta that old fuck!

Great, my buds! You're finally here!

-(customer coughs) -(customer clears throat)

(groans)

Hey, look, you guys,

I, I know a lot has been going on,

and I just wanna tell you...

you have impeccable timing.

The HNN reporter wants to do an interview

with my best friends.

All right, where'd he go?

Devin: Babe!

Hold on, wait. What is this?

Devin and I are dating. And fucking.

And fingering with an eye towards anal?

Yes! Score!

You guys are together? Since when?

Right after Halloween.

Oh no, Horse Cock is wasted.

He's trying to fuck the pool table.

(shouts): That's not a lady, bud!

You've been together for almost a month,

and you didn't tell me?

I've called you and text you,

but I never, ever, ever heard back.

I know, and I've been meaning to,

but time is just-- it's flying by,

and... whatever, if, if this is what you want,

they hey... Mazel Tov!

Yay! Jewish phrases of joy!

We're all happy now!

Can we table this tension

for, maybe, not the biggest night of my life?

Here we are live with Candy Smalls and her friends.

It's been said that behind every great Santa,

there is an entourage of close buds.

Here's my crew.

My BFFs since high school,

Goldie and Cookie.

Goldie, Cookie, we know so little

about Candy, the person.

Who is Candy Smalls to you?

I'm talking real-life details of who she is.

Oh, this is gonna be fun.

(tense music plays)

But even way back when,

there was always something

different about Candy.

I mean, what girl forces everyone to watch CSPAN

at her Sweet 16?

It's a little weird, right?

Ugh, why you?! You're nothing!

Ugh. Let's kill her.

Actually, let's kill her stylist 'cause her outfit is pure ass.

-Ha ha! Ha ha! -Snow Angel: Maybe you heard Santa wrong.

Maybe the next Santa will actually be you.

Santa's never taken me seriously!

I thought we had a special bond,

but he just left me out in the back alley

with my pants around my ankles!

Like everyone else! Except you!

I'm being nice. Why am I yelling?

Thank you for staying with me!

I am so fucked up!

Aw, thanks, baby.

Oh, I forgot to tell you.

I know who's selling Santa's beard hair--

Sparky Fontaine: Jingle Jim! J-Jingle Jim!

-Sparky Fontaine, HNN News. -Ugh! The press?!

Sparky: Any comments about your chances of becoming Successor?

Extra! Extra! Read all about it!

Jingle Jim says, "Guzzle my piss!"

Subheader, He's very dehydrated.

Sparky: God, it's in my eye! God!

Don't help me, keep rolling!

(laughs)

(cries) I wanted to be Santa so bad.

Don't worry. We'll be okay.

You really are an angel.

What would it be like if your closest friend

became the next Santa?

Great, right?

(cries) I'm afraid I'll never

see her again.

And that she'll become an even

bigger asshole than she

already is.

Oh my god. I love you, too,

asshole.

We call each other asshole.

It's an inside joke, you know?

Long history. The bonds between women.

Re-claiming words and making them our own.

It's kind of beautiful, you know?

It's gorgeous. Now, Goldie,

has all this attention

changed your old friend, Candy?

Ah, not sure.

Candy, have you always been ruthless and cutthroat?

(laughs) You guys! Be serious!

Women's friendships.

Our, our chosen families, so to speak,

so, so complicated, so invaluable, ha, ha.

Oh, I think that's Santa. I'd recognize that red hat

with the white fuzzy ball on top from a mile away.

Santa! Get out of my way!

May we speak privately?

With only eight minutes left until Santa's announcement,

I'm at the toy factory where Timmy the Toy Guy

was literally born,

the only child of a stock boy and gift wrapper.

Let's see what Timmy's up to.

On this frosty, sacred soil,

in this very toy shop,

my papa asked my mama to have

sexual intercourse and she consented.

And 18 seconds later, I was conceived.

And here we are today in the same toy shop.

Another decision to be made.

Timmy, do you think your chances at succession

have been impacted by rumored ties

to the white nationalist movement?

What holiday are you from, by the way?

-Diwali. -Di-what-i?

-Must be a new one. -It's 2,500 years old, older than Christmas.

Sounds made up to me, Four Arms.

Mader Chod, that was weird.

Why would you say that shit? That is a major new outlet.

The whole world will see it.

So? What we said is true.

-You pushed us there. -And you agree with that, Cookie?

I can't answer that because if I start to talk, I'll cry.

And it's really hard to talk and cry at the same time.

You guys, listen,

I understand I've done some really messed up stuff,

but in a few minutes, I might be named the next Santa.

And I can start fighting for all of us.

I know it started out that way,

but you're not fighting for us anymore, okay?

You've become completely selfish.

I'm sorry, did you just call me Elf-ish?

Because I will fight you right now for judging my people like that.

Let's go! Right now!

Stop! She said selfish. You're selfish.

Oh, okay. Well, that's insulting, too,

but I'm not gonna fight a jacked reindeer over it.

But I would take you. If I had to, I would.

-(cries) -Oh, Cookie, don't cry. Not tonight.

Not on my special night.

Not on the night my dreams are coming true.

You are such a-- I can't talk and cry.

Good luck, kids!

You're about to have the worst Santa ever!

The worst Santa? Oh my god.

What I'm hearing is that you think I have this in the bag.

Woo! Oh, let's go in! It's almost time!

Okay, fine, if you will excuse me,

I am going to spend the most exciting moment in my life

with my new best friend, Horse Cock.

We totally get each other.

He loves to read recovery memoirs, too.

It's fucking beshert!

That's "meant to be"

in the language of my Jewish peeps.

I'm out. Shalom!

Devin: Candy, I have to show you something.

-Now? But it's almost time to-- -Real fast. You won't be sorry.

Okay, you can look.

Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.

(angelic singing)

Devin, this is so thoughtful.

I'm, I'm seriously moved. Is my makeup okay?

Yeah, you're good. And you'll look amazing in this.

Red really brings out your veins.

I'm so happy for you, Candy.

No one deserves this more than you.

I'm so happy for us.

And, you know, even though you're still in college,

I have such a great feeling about you.

So, forget about what I said about years of training and all that.

When you graduate, you're gonna be my number two.

What do ya think? Ready to stroll into history by my side?

Ho-oh! Yes, ma'am!

Crowd in bar: One minute to go!

You ready?

Here we go.

All right, here we go.

Again. Fuckin' Brent.

Crowd: 15, 14, 13,

12, 11, 10,

nine, eight, seven, six,

five, four, three, two,

one!

Wow, this is it.

Candace Smalls, your big moment has arrived.

People of the North Pole,

or as you are known, North Pollocks.

Crowd (chanting): Santa! Santa! Santa!

It is with much pride that I and The Board of Santa Inc.

tell you of our choice of a new Successor.

But, before I give you the name, I wanna assure you

that I've chosen not only the best future Santa,

but an exciting choice, an innovative choice,

and someone who exemplifies the qualities the job of Santa requires:

compassion, joy, devotion to Santa Inc., but most of all,

an unwavering love of Christmas, and the belief in its ability

to make the world a better place,

even if it's just for one day a year.

And now may I announce the next Santa Claus...

(intense music plays)

Devin Johnson!

(crowd gasps)

(Santa's voice echoing)

(muffled audio)

Who the fuck is Devin Johnson?

(all gasping)

-(cries) -(grunts)

We're rich!

(cheering)

(person coughing)

Congratulation-- (clears throat)

Congratulations, Mr. Successor.

-(stomach gurgling) -Oh!

-(commotion) -(shutters clicking)

Whoa!

Devin Johnson, we spoke earlier, remember?

You know me! Ugh, fucker!

Devin! Devin!

(toilet flushes)

D-D-Did ya win?

Baby Meatball's in the manger.

Mmm, meatball. Excuse me, sir?

I, I just puked, so I'm starving.

Oh, oh, c-can we stop at a drive-through?

(crowd shouting)

(horn honking)

Here, this should work. Take it from me.

I've seen my fair share of puke-covered suits.

Used to work at a bar on Wall Street in the '80s.

Ah, there's a lot of it. What did that guy eat?

Hey, you don't have to hold it in for me, Candy.

I know you're upset. You can let it all out.

Oh, I'm fine. I'm so fine. It's all good, man.

I mean, I'm, I'm not fine,

and not all good, no,

but, uh, I don't know, what am I gonna do?

Cry like a baby because I didn't get my way?

You know? "Wahhh, I didn't get to be Santa."

It's just-- It's not productive.

I need to suck it up, and move on, and--

Oh god! Please don't gloat.

Please don't say, "I told you so."

Or steal my credit cards.

I just-- I'm not strong enough right now to--

You wish.

We don't need your money anymore, ha, ha.

Nope. I put all of my savings on Devin.

He was 10,000-to-one. I'm worth millions now!

But how could you possibly know it would be Devin?

You mean the fat kid with the beard?

It was always gonna be him.

You put up a good fight,

but ya can't beat tradition, baby.

That's Christmas.

Ohh! Who's rich? Cha-cha-cha!

Grandpa's rich! Cha-cha-cha!

Today has been way too intense.

The holidays are too stressful.

Girl, they haven't even started yet.

(sighs) I hate Christmas.

-(phone ringing) -Ugh, it's Candy again.

She's called me twice. Maybe we should talk to her.

She must be so miserable. She wanted this so bad.

I mean, I know she was a bitch to us,

and said some fucked-up shit--

And did fucked-up shit! The girl needs a timeout.

Maybe she'll go back to being the person we used to know.

Maybe not. But right now, I can't deal with her shit.

I guess you're right, but everything is so stressful.

Oh god! I'm losing it!

I am this close to eating my clavicle.

-(line ringing) -Devin's not picking up.

-Do you think he's ghosting me? -Where's Craig?

I wanna go home and watch Leprechaun's Kitchen.

-Girl: Ahh! -Is that your babysitter?

-Ahh! -(Fun Size laughs)

-Ahh! -Fun Size! Scissors bad!

(yelling) Oh, man!

The best aphrodisiac really is a sweet dose of schadenfreude.

Now how 'bout you get back there and toss my salad a little?

Okay, but do you wanna know

who is selling Santa's beard hair first?

Or do you want me to toss your salad first?

-Tell me fast, then salad. -Okay.

(ominous music playing)

Pardon me, are you the one selling Santa's beard hair?

Yeah, how much you want?

(gasps)

Beat it, man. We're closed.

Oh! Oh, I'm, I'm, I'm sorry.

I didn't realize it was you.

I was looking for Candy.

Candy, she left a while ago.

She was pretty devastated.

So am I. I just--

How could he-- Gah! I cannot believe--

I left Santa, not that he noticed.

I didn't know where to go,

and you said I could always come here

to the Thirsty Deer.

Well, I am glad you're here.

Can I, uh, buy you a drink, Mrs. Claus?

Call me Leonard.

Woo! Sexy... Why?

Santa: Thanks for meeting me.

Santa calls and I come running.

Story of my life.

I know you're pissed, and I wanted to explain myself.

Yeah, mansplain... S-Sant... Sants-plain...

Nick, Saint Nick-splain--

Whatever! There's, there's something there.

You really blew me away these last few months.

You did. You proved you have a million qualities

that make you so awesome for this job.

I knew you were my next Successor.

I had every intention of choosing you,

but then I saw you with the kids.

-What kids? -At the hospital.

You know, when they all came in my room to say hi?

That's really when it became clear to me.

You don't like being around children,

and they feel the awkwardness. They know it.

And they don't like you as a result of it.

-Fine, but that doesn't-- -L-Let me just get this out, okay?

You can talk all day about making Christmas great for the children

who will one day lead the world, but can you talk to them?

Connect with them? No. They ran away from you,

and straight to Devin.

So I'm not warm and cuddly. Big deal.

I know how to get the job done.

Warm and cuddly is the job.

Don't you see my dilemma? Yo-You-- (sighs)

You don't understand the pressure of a man in my position.

How could I, in good conscience,

choose a Santa who is not good with kids?

-That's something I could learn. -Not true.

When it comes to kids, you either have it or you don't.

-Oh. -But... you're right.

You do know how to get shit done.

Better than anyone.

And Devin isn't anywhere near ready to be Santa,

and that's why you're going to guide him.

Devin will be the fun and jolly face of the company,

but you will be doing the real work, behind the scenes,

making sure Santa Inc. runs perfectly.

And you'll be able to make all your great new innovations come true.

Yeah, behind the scenes.

Don't let your ego get in the way, okay?

It doesn't matter who actually wears the red suit.

You and Devin will both have the jobs you were meant to do,

but Santa Inc. will be a better place

because of you.

This wasn't an easy decision,

but it's right and it's final.

Do you understand?

Go fuck yourself.

(rock music playing)

♪ ♪

♪ Santa ♪

Wait, wha-? It's, it's Christmas?

Christmas can suck my dick.

(shouts): We're loaded!

Tony, help your Grandpa over here.

I'm covered in bling.

♪ ♪

♪ Stuff my stocking ♪

♪ Aye, Aye ♪

♪ Stuff my stocking ♪

♪ Now, pretty baby ♪

♪ Gonna make your Christmas dreams come true ♪

♪ Stuff my stocking ♪

♪ Now, pretty baby ♪

♪ Got a secret package only for you ♪

♪ Stuff my stocking ♪

♪ (mumble mumble) Holly Berry ♪

♪ (mumble mumble) Yule log ♪

♪ (mumble mumble) Hickory Farms ♪

♪ Stuff my, stuff my stocking ♪

♪ Now, pretty baby ♪

♪ Gonna make your Christmas dreams come true ♪

♪ Pretty babe, stuff my stocking ♪