All language subtitles for A.Frozen.Christmas.2.2017.1080P.Webrip.X264.Aac-[Yts.Mx]-ENG

Ho, ho, ho.
Merry Christmas, Barnaby.

Ho, ho, ho. I hope you're having
a blast this Christmas Eve.

This new souped-up sleigh
is sure a lot of fun.

Yeah, Santa, this was
the most fun I've ever had
on all Christmases ever.

A day to remember.

Say, Santa, are we done
with delivering all the presents

to all the good children
of the world?

All done, and in record time.

Where are we off to now, Santa?

I hope there's more fun
to be had.

He, he, he. Ho, ho, ho.
You got that right, Barnaby.

There's a ton more fun
to be had.

The day's not over yet.

We're heading back home
to celebrate this Christmas
with all our dear friends.

Are you saying
we're gonna have a party, Santa?

That would be so awesome.

He, he. Ho, ho.

It's gonna be
an amazing Christmas bash.

There's gonna be storytellers
and dancing and music
and sing-alongs.

Ho, ho, ho.

That sounds like
a total fun time, Santa.

A great time indeed.

Well, what are we waiting for?

Off to the festivities we go.

Ho, ho, ho.

Ho, we made it. Ho, ho.

And the party is in full swing.

Swinging and ringing.

Hey, look over there.

It's my best pal,
Jimmy the Gingerbread Man.

Oh, he's having
a time of his life,

dancin' away.

Merry Christmas, Jimmy,

and a Happy New Year.

Whoa. I never knew
Jimmy was such a great dancer.

Well, check it out, Barnaby.

That's our pal, Alfie the Elf,
dancing the Merry Macarena.

Dancing and ringing
the New Year away.

Merry Christmas, Alfie,
and a Happy New Year.

Well, what do you know,
it's the coolest dancer
in the North Pole.

Hey, it's Nutty the Nutcracker.

He's nuts and nuttier,
but what a dancer.

Merry Christmas, Nutty,
and a Happy New Year to ya.

Hey, look over yonder.

It's Slinky the baby Squirrel

dancin' up
a squirrel of a storm.

Ho, ho, ho.

Merry Christmas, Slinky.

Aww, cute Slinky.

Hey, Barnaby, what do you say,

we go and listen
to an amazing Christmas story?

Who'll tell us one?

I have an idea.

Let's go see Horace the Horse.

He's a great storyteller,

and he'll tell us
a marvelous Christmas story.

Let's go.

Hey, Horace,
we're here to listen
to a great Christmas story.

Yeah, we hear
you're an amazing storyteller.

Will you tell us one?

My pleasure, Santa and Barnaby.

I have a great story.
Here is how it goes.

Two little children were
sitting by the fire
on one cold winter's night.

All at once they heard
a timid knock at the door.

And one ran to open it.

There,
outside in the cold
and the darkness,

stood a child with no shoes
upon his feet

and clad in thin,
ragged garments.

He was shivering with cold,

and he asked to come in
and warm himself.

"Yes, come,"
cried both the children.

"You shall have our place
by the fire. Come in."

They drew the little stranger
to their warm seat

and shared
their supper with him,
and gave him their bed,

while they slept
on a hard bench.

In the night they were awakened
by strains of sweet music

and, looking out,
they saw a band of children

in shining garments
approaching the house.

They were playing
on golden harps,

and the air was full of melody.

Suddenly the Stranger Child
stood before them,

no longer cold and ragged,
but clad in silvery light.

His soft voice said,
"I was cold, and you took Me in.

"I was hungry, and you fed Me.

"I was tired,
and you gave Me your bed.

"I am the Christ Child,
wandering through the world

"to bring peace and happiness
to all good children.

As you have given to Me,
so may this tree every year
give rich fruit to you."

So saying, He broke a branch
from the fir tree
that grew near the door,

and He planted it
into the ground and disappeared.

But the branch grew
into a great tree,

and every year it bore
wonderful golden fruit
for the kind children.

Thank you for
that amazing story, Horace.

Have a wonderful Christmas.
Ho, ho, ho.

See you next time, Horace.
Goodbye.

Ho, ho, ho. Look over there.

It's Benny the Beaver,

having the time of his life,

kickin' up those webbed feet.

Ho, ho, ho.
Merry Christmas, Benny.

Ho, ho, ho.

I was just sittin' up,
a-havin' my tea

Havin' my tea, havin' my tea

I saw a beautiful face
was lookin' up at me

Up at me, up at me

Oh, she had a cute smile
so I asked her name

Asked her name,
asked her name

Oh, we got to talkin'
said she felt the same

She feel the same,
she feel the same

Oh, every time I see her
Imma do my thing

Armadillo rinkety tang

But now she's focused on
is what she wants to be

Oh, what she wants to be

It's what she wants to be

She's cooking us a chicken
With a jug of tea

A jug of tea

- Oh, oh
- A jug of tea

I'm thankful for the day
she moved outta my door

I'm thankful for the day
she moved outta my door

Oh, I never thought I'd fall
for the girl next door

And I never thought I'd fall
For the girl next door

Oh, every time I see her
Imma do my thing

Every time I see her
Imma do my thing

Oh, every time I see her
Imma do my thing

Armadillo rinkety tang

Armadillo rinkety tang

I was just sittin' up
a-havin' my tea

Havin' my tea, havin' my tea

I saw a beautiful face
was lookin' up at me

Up at me, up at me

Oh, she had a cute smile
so I asked her name

Asked her name,
asked her name

Oh, we got to talkin'
said she felt the same

She feel the same,
she feel the same

Oh, every time I see her
Imma do my thing

Armadillo rinkety tang

But now she's focused on
What she wants to be

Oh, what she wants to be

It's what she wants to be

She's cooking us a chicken
with a jug of tea

A jug of tea

- Oh, oh
- A jug of tea

I'm thankful for the day
she moved outta my door

I'm thankful for the day
she moved outta my door

Oh, I never thought I'd fall
for the girl next door

And I never thought I'd fall
for the girl next door

Oh, every time I see her
Imma do my thing

Every time I see her
Imma do my thing

Oh, every time I see her
Imma do my thing

Armadillo rinkety tang

Armadillo rinkety tang

Wasn't Benny the Beaver
a great dancer?

I told you he was.

Total party animal.

If you pardon my pun, Santa.

Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho!

All right, let's go.

I hear the party is heatin' up
with the beehive.

Bzzz. I hear the buzzing.
Have a good time.

Who could it be
but Betty the Bee?

Ho, she's dancin' the day away.

Ho, ho, ho.
Merry Christmas, Betty.

Yeah

Yeah

Yeah

Yeah

Yeah

Yeah

Yeah

Yeah

Yeah

Yeah

Yeah

Yeah

Yeah

Yeah

Yeah

Buzz to the left

And buzz to the right

Do the hive dance
and have a buzz time

Look, over there, Barnaby.

Who goes yonder?

That's Danny Duck,
havin' a time.

Look at those duck legs go.

Ho, ho, ho.

Merry Christmas, Danny.

I think I know
where the most incredible dancer

of all time is performing today.

Rudolph the Rabbit is stomping
those big ol' bunny feet
to a groovy tune.

Ho, ho, ho.
Merry Christmas, Rudolph.

Say, Barnaby, I'm in the mood
for a good Christmas story.

Oh, yeah, me, too.

Who will tell us
a great story, Santa?

I know just the ruminant who can
tell the most amazing stories.

Who would that be?

Let's go see
Silky the Christmas Cow.

Silky the Christmas Cow?

I love her. She's the best
storyteller in the world.

Ho, ho, ho. Indeed.

Ho, ho, ho.

Hey there, Silky.

Santa, do I have
a story for you.

Glad to hear that, Silky.

What story will it be?

What about one of my favorites?

It's called the "Three Kings"
and it goes like this...

Three kings came riding
from far away.

Melchior and Gaspar
and Balthazar.

Three Wise Men
out of the East were they,

and they traveled by night
and they slept by day,

for their guide was a beautiful,
wonderful star.

The star was so beautiful,
large, and clear,

that all the other stars
of the sky became a white mist
in the atmosphere,

and by this they knew
that the coming was near

of the Prince foretold
in the prophecy.

Three caskets they bore
on their saddle-bows,

three caskets of gold
with golden keys,

their robes were of
crimson silk,

with rows of bells
and pomegranates and furbelows,

their turbans like
blossoming almond trees.

And so the Three Kings
rode into the West,

through the dusk of night,
over hill and dell,

and sometimes they nodded
with beard on breast

and sometimes talked,
as they paused to rest,

with the people they met
at some wayside well.

"Of the child that is born,"
said Balthazar,

"Good people, I pray you,
tell us the news,

"for we in the East have seen
his star, and have ridden fast,
and have ridden far,

"to find and worship
the King of the Jews."

And the people answered,
"You ask in vain,

we know of no king
but Herod the Great."

They thought the Wise Men
were men insane,

as they spurred their horses
across the plain,

like riders in haste
who cannot wait.

And when they came to Jerusalem,
Herod the Great,
who had heard this thing

sent for the Wise Men
and questioned them,

and said,
"Go down unto Bethlehem,

and bring me tidings
of this new king."

So they rode away,
and the star stood still,

the only one
in the gray of morn,

yet, it stopped, it stood still
of its own free will,

right over Bethlehem
on the hill, the city of David,
where Christ was born.

And the Three Kings rode through
the gate and the guard,

through the silent street,
till their horses
turned and neighed

as they entered
the great inn-yard,

but the windows were closed
and the doors were barred,

and only a light
in the stable burned.

And cradled there
in the scented hay,

in the air made sweet
by the breath of kine,

the little child
in the manger lay,

the child, that would be king
one day of a kingdom
not human but divine.

His mother Mary of Nazareth
sat watching
beside his place of rest,

watching the even flow
of his breath,

for the joy of life
and the terror of death

were mingled together
in her breast.

They laid their offerings
at his feet,

the gold was their tribute
to a King,

the frankincense,
with its odor sweet,

was for the Priest,
the Paraclete,

the myrrh
for the body's burying.

And the mother wondered
and bowed her head,

and sat as still
as a statue of stone,

her heart was troubled
yet comforted,

remembering what the Angel
had said of an endless reign
and of David's throne.

Then the Kings rode out
of the city gate,

with a clatter of hoofs
in proud array,

but they went not back
to Herod the Great,

for they knew his malice
and feared his hate,

and returned to their homes
by another way.

Thank you, Silky. That was
a great Christmas story,
if I've ever heard one.

It was indeed.

Ho, ho, ho. Off we go.

Hey, it's Parrot Pete.

He knows the way
to More-To-Be-Had.

Let's follow him.
Fly high, fly low, Parrot Pete, we're right with you.

Hey-hey,
look over there, Barnaby.

It's the Christmas Sheep
just jumping their little
hooves off. Ho, ho, ho.

Don't get too sleepy now,
Christmas Sheep.

There's still more party
to be had. Ha, ha, ha.

I see daddy in your eyes

It gives me butterflies

I see daddy in your eyes

Each day your smile
is my prize

Daddy in your eyes

It gives me butterflies

I see daddy in your eyes

Each day your smile
Is my prize

When I look into your eyes

Your smile is my sunrise

You're the apple
Of daddy's eye

And I still can't believe it
I hope we are closin' it

I see daddy in your eyes

It gives me butterflies

I see daddy in your eyes

Each day your smile
is my prize

Daddy in your eyes

It gives me butterflies

I see daddy in your eyes

Each day your smile
is my prize

You came into this world

Beautiful and like a pearl

I love you more than
You'll ever know

And I hope that I can be
a parent pro

I see daddy in your eyes

It gives me butterflies

I see daddy in your eyes

Each day your smile
is my prize

Daddy in your eyes

It gives me butterflies

I see daddy in your eyes

Each day your smile
is my prize

Daddy in your eyes

It gives me butterflies

I see daddy in your eyes

Each day your smile
is my prize

Daddy in your eyes,
it gives me butterflies

Your smile is my prize

Daddy in your eyes

Each day

Your smile is my prize

For all the caroling monkeys
in the North Pole,

that's Chubby the Chimp
dancing the Jingle Jungle dance.

I see bananas, he's a superstar.

Ho, ho, ho.
Merry Christmas, Chubby.

Oh, Senor Don Gato was a cat

On a high red roof
Don Gato sat

He was there
to read a letter,
meow, meow, meow

Where the reading light
was better,
meow, meow, meow

It was a love note
for Don Gato

"I adore you"
wrote the lady cat

Who was fluffy, white
and nice and fat

There was not a sweeter kitty
meow, meow, meow

In the country or the city
meow, meow, meow

And she said
she'd wed Don Gato

Oh, Senor Don Gato
jumped with glee

He fell off the roof
and broke his knee

Broke his ribs
and all his whiskers
meow, meow, meow

And his little solar plexus
meow, meow, meow

"Ay caramba!" cried Don Gato

All the doctors
they came on the run

Just to see if something
could be done

And they held a consultation
meow, meow, meow

About how to
save their patient
meow, meow, meow

How to save Senor Don Gato

But in spite of everything
they tried

Poor Senor Don Gato
up and died

No, it wasn't very merry
meow, meow, meow

Going to the cemetery
meow, meow, meow

For the ending of Don Gato

As the funeral passed
the market square

Such a smell of fish
was in the air

Though the burial was slated
meow, meow, meow

He became re-animated
meow, meow, meow

He came back to life
Don Gato

That's the story of Don Gato

Hey, look over there.

That's none other than...

Camillia the Crocodile
tiptoeing her tail off.

Sing a song of sixpence

A pocket full of rye

Four and twenty blackbirds

Baked in a pie

When the pie was opened

The birds began to sing

Wasn't that a tasty dish
to set before the king

The king was
in his counting house

Counting all his money

The queen was in the parlor

Eating bread and honey

The maid was
in the courtyard

Hanging out the clothes

Along came a blackbird
and pecked off her nose

Ah, ah, ah, oh, no

Sing a song of sixpence

A pocket full of rye

Four and twenty blackbirds

Baked in a pie

When the pie was opened

The birds began to sing

Wasn't that a tasty dish
to set before the king

Barnaby, I think I spot
Gary the Giftbox
doing the holiday hula.

He's having a good ol' time.

Say, Barnaby, you know what
I'm in the mood for?

What, Santa?

A grand ol' Christmas story
to get me in the holiday mood.

Me, too. Who will tell us one?

What about our dear pal
Frosty the Donkey,

who lives by the old
Bubbling Mill Creek?

That's a great idea, Santa.

He's the awesomest
storyteller ever.

Ho, ho, ho, let's go.

Hey-hey, Frosty.

How about you tell us
one of your wonderful
Christmas stories?

Yeah, that would be great.

By all means, fellas,
I sure do have a story for you.

Here is how it begins.

Piccola lived in Italy,

where the oranges grow,
and where all the year
the sun shines warm and bright.

I suppose you think
Piccola a very strange name
for a little girl,

but in her country
it was not strange at all,

and her mother thought it
the sweetest name
a little girl ever had.

Piccola had no kind father,
no big brother or sister,

and no sweet baby
to play with and love.

She and her mother lived
all alone in an old stone house

that looked on a dark,
narrow street.

They were very poor,
and the mother was away
from home almost every day,

washing clothes
and scrubbing floors,

and working hard to earn money
for her little girl and herself.

So you see, Piccola was alone
a great deal of the time.

And if she had not been
a very happy,
contented little child,

I hardly know what
she would have done.

She had no playthings
except a heap of stones
in the backyard

that she used
for building houses

and a very old, very ragged doll
that her mother had found
in the street one day.

But there was a small
round hole in the stone wall
at the back of her yard,

and her greatest pleasure was
to look through that into her
neighbor's garden.

When she stood on a stone,
and put her eyes
close to the hole,

she could see the green grass
in the garden,

and smell the sweet flowers,

and even hear the water
splashing into the fountain.

She had never seen
anyone walking in the garden,

for it belonged
to an old gentleman

who did not care
about grass and flowers.

One day in the autumn
her mother told her that
the old gentleman had gone away,

and had rented his house
to a family of little
American children,

who had come with
their sick mother to spend
the winter in Italy.

After this, Piccola
was never lonely,

for all day long the children
ran and played and danced
and sang in the garden.

It was several weeks
before they saw her at all,

and I am not sure they ever
would have done so,

but one day their kitten
ran away,

and in chasing her
they came close to the wall

and saw Piccola's black eyes
looking through the hole
in the stones.

They were a little
frightened at first,

they did not speak to her,

but the next day
she was there again,

and Rose, the oldest girl,
went up to the wall

and talked to her
a little while.

When the children found that
she had no one to play with
and was very lonely,

they talked to her every day,
and often brought her
fruits and candies,

and passed them through
the hole in the wall.

One day they even
pushed the kitten through.

But the hole was hardly
large enough for her,

and she mewed and scratched
and was very much frightened.

After that the little boy
said he would ask his father

if the hole might not
be made larger,

and then Piccola could
come in and play with them.

The father had found out
that Piccola's mother
was a good woman,

and that the little girl herself
was sweet and kind,

so that he was very glad to have
some of the stones broken away

and an opening made
for Piccola to come in.

How excited she was,
and how glad the children were

when she first stepped
into the garden.

She wore her best dress,
a long, bright-colored
woolen skirt and a white waist.

Round her neck was
a string of beads,

and on her feet were
little wooden shoes.

It would seem very strange
to us, would it not,
to wear wooden shoes,

but Piccola and her mother
had never worn anything else,

and never had
any money to buy socks.

Piccola almost always
ran about barefooted,

like the kittens
and the chickens
and the little ducks.

What a good time
they had that day,

and how glad
Piccola's mother was

that her little girl
could have such a pleasant,
safe place to play in

while she was away at work.

By and by December came,
and the little Americans began
to talk about Christmas.

One day, when Piccola's
curly head and bright eyes

came peeping through
the hole in the wall,

they ran to her
and helped her in,

and as they did so,
they all asked her at once

what she thought she would have
for a Christmas present.

"A Christmas present,"
said Piccola.

"Why, what is that?"

The children looked
surprised at this,

and Rose said, rather gravely,
"Dear Piccola, don't you know
what Christmas is?"

Oh, yes, Piccola knew it was
the happy day when
the baby Christ was born,

and she had been to church
on that day and heard
the beautiful singing,

and had seen the picture
of the Babe lying in the manger,

with cattle and sheep
sleeping round about.

Oh, yes, she knew
all that very well,

but what was
a Christmas present?

Then the children began to laugh
and to answer her all together.

There was such
a clatter of tongues

that she could hear only a few
of the words now and then,

such as "chimney,"
"Santa Claus,"

"stockings," "reindeer,"

"Christmas Eve,"
"candies and toys."

Piccola put her hands
over her ears and said,

"Oh, I can't understand
one word. You tell me, Rose."

Then Rose told her
all about jolly St. Claus,

with his red cheeks
and white beard and fur coat,

and about his reindeer
and sleigh full of toys.

"Every Christmas Eve,"
said Rose,

"he comes down the chimney,
and fills the stockings of
all the good children,

"so, Piccola, you hang up
your stocking,

and who knows what a beautiful
Christmas present you will find
when morning comes."

Of course Piccola thought
this was a delightful plan,

and was very pleased
to hear about it.

Then all the children told her
of every Christmas Eve
they could remember,

and of the presents
they had had,

so that she went home thinking
of nothing but dolls and hoops

and balls and ribbons
and marbles
and wagons and kites.

She told her mother
about Santa Claus,

and her mother seemed to think
that perhaps he did not know

there was any little girl
in that house,

and very likely
he would not come at all.

But Piccola felt very sure
Santa Claus would remember her,

for her little friends
had promised to send a letter
up the chimney to remind him.

Christmas Eve came at last.

Piccola's mother hurried home
from her work.

They had their little supper
of soup and bread,
and soon it was bedtime,

time to get ready
for Santa Claus.

But, oh! Piccola remembered that
for the first time that
the children had told her

she must hang up her stocking,
and she hadn't any,
and neither had her mother.

How sad, how sad it was.

Now Santa Claus would come,
and perhaps be angry

because he couldn't find
anyplace to put the present.

The poor little girl
stood by the fireplace,

and the big tears began
to run down her cheeks.

Just then her mother
called to her, "Hurry,
Piccola, come to bed."

What should she do?
But she stopped crying,
and tried to think,

and in a moment she
remembered her wooden shoes,

and ran off to get one of them.

She put it close to the chimney,
and said to herself,

"Surely Santa Claus will know
what it's there for.

"He will know I haven't
any stockings,

so I gave him the shoe instead."

Then she went off
happily to her bed,

and was asleep almost
as soon as she had nestled
close to her mother's side.

The sun had only just begun
to shine next morning
when Piccola woke.

With one jump she was
out on the floor
and running toward the chimney.

The wooden shoe was lying
where she had left it,

but you could never,
never guess what was in it.

Piccola had not meant
to wake her mother,

but this surprise was more
than any little girl could bear
and yet be quiet,

so she danced to the bed with
the shoe in her hand, calling,
"Mother, Mother! Look, look!

See the present
Santa Claus brought me!"

Her mother raised her head
and looked into the shoe.

"Why, Piccola," she said,
"a little chimney swallow
nestled in your shoe?

What a good Santa Claus
to bring you a bird!"

"Good Santa Claus,
dear Santa Claus!"
cried Piccola.

And she kissed her mother
and kissed the bird
and kissed the shoe,

and even threw kisses up
the chimney, she was so happy.

When the birdling was
taken out of the shoe,

they found that he
did not try to fly,
only to hop about the room.

And as they looked closer,
they could see that one of
his wings was hurt a little.

But the mother bound
it up carefully, so that it
did not seem to pain him,

and he was so gentle
that he took a drink
of water from a cup,

and even ate crumbs and seeds
out of Piccola's hands.

She was a proud little girl
when she took her
Christmas present

to show the children
in the garden.

They had had a great many gifts,
dolls that could say "mama,"
bright picture books,

trains of cars, toy pianos,

but not one of their
playthings was alive,
like Piccola's birdling.

They were as pleased as she,
and Rose hunted about the house

until she found
a large wicker cage

that belonged to a blackbird
she once had.

She gave the cage to Piccola,

and the swallow seemed
to make himself quite at home
in it at once,

and sat on the perch
winking his bright eyes
at the children.

Rose had saved a bag
of candies for Piccola.

And then she went home at last,

with the cage
and her dear swallow
safely inside it.

I'm sure there was not
a happier little girl
in the whole country of Italy.

Ho, ho, ho.
That was a great story, Frosty.

Yeah, a lovely story.

See you next time, Frosty.
Have a Merry Christmas.
Ho, ho, ho.

Hey, look over there.
Willy's having an icy ball.

Merry Christmas, Willy,
and a Happy New Year.

Hey, look over there.

Gary the Frog
is kicking up those long legs
at a holiday jig.

Ho, ho, ho.
Merry Christmas, Gary,
and a Happy New Year.

Barnaby, do my squinty eyes
betray me

or is that a whole troupe
of dancing gingerbread men?

It's the Ginger Snapper group.

They are the best
gingerbread dancing fellas
in the whole world.

Let's check them out.

You betcha.
They're enormous fun.

Merry Christmas,
Ginger Snappers, ho,

and a Happy New Year to you.
Ho, ho, ho.

What do I see yonder
in the snowy woods?

That's Theodore the Teddy Bear.

He's having a holiday blast.
Look at him go.

Merry Christmas, Theodore,
and a Happy New Year.
Ho, ho, ho.

He's got the whole world
in His hands

He's got the whole wide world
in His hands

He's got the whole world
in His hands

He's got the whole world
in His hands

He's got
my brothers and my sisters
in His hands

He's got
my brothers and my sisters
in His hands

He's got
my brothers and my sisters
in His hands

He's got the whole world
in His hands

He's got
the sun and the moon
in His hands

He's got the sun
and the moon
in His hands

He's got
the sun and the moon
in His hands

He's got the whole world
in His hands

He's got
the wind and the rain
in His hands

He's got
the wind and the rain
in His hands

He's got
the wind and the rain
in His hands

He's got the whole world
in His hands

He's got
the rivers and the oceans
in His hands

He's got
the rivers and the oceans
in His hands

He's got
the rivers and the oceans

In His hands

He's got the whole world
in His hands

He's got the whole world
in His hands

He's got the whole wide world
in His hands

He's got the whole world
in His hands

He's got the whole world
in His hands

He's got
the whole world in His hands

He's got the whole world
in His hands

He's got
the whole world in His hands

He's got the whole world
in His hands

Say, Barnaby,

all this partying
just makes me wanna
let my beard down

and kick up a dance-storm
with these snow boots.

What are you waiting for, Santa,

this is after all your holiday.

You should be partying
with the best.

North Pole, here I come. Ho ho.

I'll show you what
Christmas dancing
is all about. Let's go.

Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho.

This has been
the best Christmas ever.
Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho.

A bash to remember.

Merry Christmas, ho, ho.

And a Happy New Year.
Ho, ho, ho.