Original subtitles

(THEME MUSIC PLAYING)

(SNICKERING)

CAROLERS:♪ Oh, Christmas show

♪ Oh, Christmas show

♪ It's time to make our Christmas show

♪ Out in the snow where wind doth blow

♪ Under starlight's golden glow ♪

Get out of my way, you reprobate revelers!

(ALL GASP)

(ALL SCREAM)

-(CAROLERS SCREAM) -Sorry!

-Pardon us. -Happy holidays!

-(CHILD 1 GROANING) -CHILD 2: It's Christmas.

Isn't it lovely to see folks celebrating the holidays together?

PETER: That's right. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, isn't it?

PENELOPE: Ah, I just love this time of the year.

DASTARDLY: Oh, please!

You can't seriously buy into all that Christmas nonsense.

PETER: But Dicky, everybody loves Christmas. What about Santa?

Aren't you excited that Santa comes tomorrow?

DASTARDLY: Bah! Christmas is a cynical ploy

by large international entertainment conglomerates

to increase viewership with trite holiday-themed episodes

of worn-out television series.

Seriously, old buddy. You really need to get in the holiday spirit.

Well, then, in the spirit of the holiday,

-allow me to extend to you all a very white Christmas. -(SNICKERING)

Ooh, white Christmas. I get it.

Ha, that's a good one.

(CHUCKLES EVILLY) Muttley!

Fire the final missile!

(SNICKERING)

DASTARDLY: Argh! No! I meant at them!

MUTTLEY: Oh.

SANTA: Ho-ho-ho!

Whoa, big fella.

Ho-ho-ho!

I have a feeling that tomorrow night is going to be our best Christmas...

(ALL SCREAMING)

That was refreshing.

You galloping goofballs! Look what you've done!

What we've done? Dastardly, this is all...

Ugh, it's hard to scold him from down here.

Whoa! Ooh!

Thanks, Tiny.

Dastardly, it is your constant and bizarrely self-destructive cheating

that always gets us into these messes.

And at Christmas time, too, Dicky.

For shame.

Christmas, schmistmas.

I'm so tired of everyone talking about...

Oh.

Oh, no! Are those... Is that...

-(BEEPING) -Kringle down! We have a Kringle down!

Christmas is canceled.

(EXCLAIMS)

Oh, stop it!

Those are just a pair of old boots,

probably left there by some eccentric Arctic explorer

who preferred sandals.

Really? You're going with that?

Well, it's more likely than a half-buried

reverse-kleptomaniac elf with a glandular condition!

Drat!

(ALL SCREAMING)

Double drat!

(HUMMING)

(SCREAMING)

-(GLASS SHATTERING) -(CAT YOWLS)

Is Santa gonna be okay?

-(BEEPING) -We have the technology to rebuild him.

We can make him better, jollier,

maybe give him giant scissor-hands.

-MRS. CLAUS: No scissor-hands. -Aw.

Santa will be fine. He's a tough old elf.

You don't think the elves are mad about what we did to Santa, do you?

-(ELVES YELLING) -(PENELOPE SCREAMING)

-A little bit, yes. -(PENELOPE SCREAMING)

Ah, the sun is up. It's Christmas Eve.

Children all over the world will expect Santa Claus tonight.

But he's not coming. (BLOWS NOSE)

I can't believe we ruined Christmas.

You still got one on you there.

-(ELF CHITTERING) -Okay, Abdul, I'm sorry already.

Tiny?

-(ELF EXCLAIMS) -We need to fix this somehow.

Bella's right. We simply must deliver the presents tonight.

Us? How? We're not magic.

We've got the next best thing to magic.

We have our very own super-genius.

-Whoa! My spleen. -Okay, okay. I can take a hint.

I'll need a ball of twine, three used air fresheners, a giraffe from here down,

an orange toupee, a salami and whipped cream sandwich,

and a tiny car full of angry clowns.

Hurry, people, we've got Christmas to save.

-Wow. -Ahem.

Peter, darling, I meant I.Q.

Oh. Okay. Can I still get the sandwich?

Now, dears, I'm too busy to see what you've been working on in Santa's garage.

PENELOPE: Trust us, it's gonna be great!

May I present the latest in jet-powered, mobile present delivery systems.

(SCREAMS)

Oh.

-Pretty cool, huh? -Uh, how do they work?

By using my new molecular present-transposers!

Each of those tablets has a digital copy

of Santa's master naughty-and-nice list.

(BLOWS RASPBERRY)

We just key in each destination's present,

indicated on the good list there,

and the central computer uploads

each gift's data pattern to the transposer,

which molecularizes and transmogrifies it

to the proper destination.

(BEEPING)

(POWERING UP)

Ooh, a new crankshaft, just what I want...

See? It's foolproof.

Why am I on the naughty list 11,946 times?

(SNICKERING)

Because we stopped counting in April.

I'm not sure this is a good idea.

We usually use magic.

Yeah! Old school.

-(EXCLAIMS) -Please, Mrs. Claus, think of all those children!

-We just can't let them down. -Uh...

Well, I suppose it might work.

You heard the lady, racers.

We're burning daylight and these presents ain't gonna deliver themselves.

Let's do it!

(HEROIC MUSIC PLAYING)

-(ELVES YELLING) -PENELOPE: Argh! My spleen!

Ho-ho-ho!

Look, everyone, I'm all better.

Christmas isn't canceled after...

(YELLING)

Whoa! (GRUNTS)

We need a stretcher over here!

And those cybernetic laser eyes!

-No laser eyes. -Aw!

PENELOPE: All right, team. We gotta deliver

all these presents before sun-up.

Let's do it!

PETER: First one done wins?

DASTARDLY: That will be me, you halfwit holiday ham.

FAMILY:♪ Deck the halls with boughs of holly

♪ Fa la la la la, la la la la

These controls are a teensy bit more complicated than I thought.

Hmm, let's see.

Billy gets a stuffed tiger. Oh, how sweet.

(POWERING UP)

♪ 'Tis the season to be... ♪

-(GROWLING) -(ALL SCREAMING)

Why, Santa, why?

Uh...

♪ Deck the halls with boughs of... ♪

(SCREAMING)

Why, Santa, why?

♪ Deck the halls with boughs of holly

-♪ Fa la la la la... ♪ -(ALL SCREAMING)

Why, Santa, why?

General, we're getting reports from all over the world.

Santa Claus has apparently turned evil.

(EXCLAIMING)

(SCREAMING)

We all knew it would happen someday, Colonel.

Activate the Kringle Protocols.

(ALARM BLARING)

(UPBEAT ROCK MUSIC PLAYING)

(RADAR BEEPING)

COLONEL: (OVER RADIO)Targets acquired. Arming missiles.

-How'd you do? -Pretty good, I think.

Some of those kids asked for weird presents though.

-I noticed that, too. -(MISSILE WHIZZING)

Oh! Christmas cookies! What was that?

That wasn't a cookie,

that was an air-to-air missile.

So was that!

Someone's shooting at us?

(YELLING)

Looks like everyone's shooting at us.

(RACERS SCREAMING)

Look out!

Whoa!

PENELOPE: Dastardly, watch out!

Perfect, get away from me!

I'm not leaving my wingman. I saw that at the movies.

(BOTH YELLING)

PENELOPE: Uh-oh.

Well, we've had it.

This is all your fault, Muttley!

(TEETH CHATTERING)

Isn't this pretty dark for a Christmas episode?

RACERS: Santa!

Don't worry, Miss Tutti Frutti.

The big onion is flopping downtown. Old school.

He's still a little woozy from that last bump,

but don't worry, he's still my Santa.

All right, now. It's past bedtime.

You boys and girls just turn those jets around and get home this minute.

Negative, Santa. We have orders to eliminate the targets.

If you are not all in bed and fast asleep

by the time I reach your houses,

then Santa may not leave any presents under your tree.

COLONEL: (STAMMERS OVER RADIO)Mission aborted.

Returning to base.

Santa, you saved us!

Well, it is the Christmas episode.

Now then, thanks for trying,

but I think Christmas presents are something

best left to professionals, don't you?

RACERS: Yes, sir!

Well, then, merry Christmas to all

and to all, a good night.

Peace out.

That was awesome!

Santa is so cool.

-That he is, little buddy. -Eh.

-Dastardly? -He's okay, I suppose.

By the way, you can keep the rocket sleighs.

Merry Christmas!

(LAUGHING) I love Santa Claus, I love him!

I love him!

Hold on to your protrusive proboscis, Muttley!

-(SNICKERING) -(LAUGHING)

Christmas rocks!

All right.

This is better than Halloween.

(ALL CHEERING AND LAUGHING)

Merry Christmas, y'all.

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