Original subtitles

- Hi, I'm Patrick Star, and I live with my parents.

Ow. This is my dad.

[upbeat music]

This is my mom.

* *

This is my sister. She's shy.

This is my grandpa.

This is my room.

And this...

this is my show!

* *

[festive music]

- [humming melody]

Yep.

[chainsaw buzzing]

- [screams]

- Merry Christmas.

[electricity crackles] - [screams]

[electricity crackling]

[grunts] [laughs]

- Huh? Odds Bodkins!

A severed telephone pole?

Why, that means it's Christmas Eve!

I'm missing it!

[screams]

- Hmm. - Hey!

Oh! - [buzzing and grunting]

- Oh, yay! - Yay!

Nice job lighting the star, son.

- Ugh. Whee.

- Don't hog the punch, dear.

Get your presents for everyone and put them under the pole.

- And we're all expecting better gifts this year,

big brother. They better be awesome.

- Ooh.

[soft dramatic music]

Oh, no.

I forgot to get anyone anything.

There's gotta be gifts around here somewhere.

Huh? [chuckles]

Mm. [grunts]

[chuckles]

Half-chewed candle, gift!

Fully-chewed candle, gift!

Ooh, petrified underwear. Gift!

* Gift, gift, gifty gift *

* Gonna give a gift *-- Ow!

- [barking] - What's that, boy?

You say you stopped me because I'm

about to give my family garbage for Christmas?

- [barks] - You're right, Ouchie.

I gave everyone the same garbage last year.

You heard Squidina. This year has to be awesome.

Oh, if only I had more time.

- [barks] - Oh, yeah!

The time closet will give me enough time

to find perfect Christmas gifts for everybody.

[laughs]

[chuckles]

First, I'll get Dad

the latest shaver from the future.

Boop, boop, boop, boop, beep, bop, bop.

[soft dramatic music]

* *

- Uh-huh, mm-hmm.

Look alive, Pat-Tron.

We need a Christmas tree,

and this planet is crawling with them.

Behold!

Hm?

- Wild trees are very dangerous, Captain.

According to my calculations,

your only chance of cutting them down is with one of these.

- Put that baby toy away, Pat-Tron,

and watch in awe as I hogtie these prickly beasts

with my bare musclebound hands.

[grunting]

[screams]

Ah! Whoa!

[grunting and screaming]

- Greetings, future guy! Can you help me?

I'm looking for the latest electric shaver

to give my stubbly old Dad for Christmas.

- Oh, give him this.

Captain Quasar doesn't need it. It'll shave anything.

It's cutting edge technology. - Wow, thanks!

- Mistletoe proximity alert.

- Hm? Oh.

[romantic music]

Well, nice doing business with you too.

- Ow, ow, ooh, ah.

Ugh, ah, ow.

Pat-Tron, forget what I said. I need the laser!

Pass me the laser! Baby wants his laser!

[screams]

- Dad's gift is in the bag.

Next on the list is GrandPat.

Hm, I wonder what old people like?

- Who hungry? Me cook food with fire.

Me got pterodactyl wings and dino egg omelets,

all with a side order of fire!

So come on down to Caveman Jenkins Farms

or Sun God will destroy us all with fire!

- * Come to Caveman Jenkins Farms *

* where our motto is * - Fire!

[laughs]

- I bet GrandPat would love some vintage food

from his old neighborhood.

Leedle, leedle, leedle, lee!

[bluegrass music]

- [grunts] - [moos]

- [screams] - That looks--ooh.

Mmm, lizardy.

I don't think anybody would mind

if I took just one little egg.

- [clucks] - [screams]

- [clucks]

- Ah, perfect!

Now it'll be easy to grab an egg!

- [clucks] - Shh!

I guess it takes a smart cookie to fool a dumb animal.

Hm? - [squawks aggressively]

- [chuckles] [screams]

I didn't mean you!

[screams] - [screeches]

I spy mistletoe. Mwah!

- Yuck!

Why does everyone keep kissing me?

- [barking] - Ow!

Oh, you're right, Ouchie.

I do need to stay focused.

Hm, Mommy is next on the list,

and this year, I want to give her

something really fun.

What did she always used to say?

- There's no place more fun than a carnival.

- Thanks, Mom.

- You're welcome, dear. Ooh, mistletoe!

Mwah. [laughs]

- Mom! Beep, boop, boop.

Cool, smells like freaks.

The Bearded Blowfish? Cool.

The SpongeKrab Twins. What?

Fiji Mermaid? Now I've seen everything.

Mom was right. This is really fun.

Aw, but I still don't know what she wants for Christmas.

The Tattooed Fish?

I'll get Mom a new tattoo for Christmas!

- Ooh! Break time.

- [chuckles]

- Mmm. - Ow!

Man, getting a tattoo hurts.

- We're under the mistletoe.

How dare you?

- How dare who?

- [chattering]

- Hello there, cutie pie!

Aw, you look like a perfect gift for Squidina,

and you just saved me another trip.

I did it, Ouchie.

I got something for everyone on my list.

I gotta get these gifts under the pole.

- [French accent] The next morning.

- I hope you all like your gifts.

- Ooh.

- It's an electric razor from the future, Dad.

- Hey.

Wow! Now that's a close shave.

Thanks, son.

- Ugh, I hope it's not another chewed up candle.

A dinosaur egg?

I haven't had a pterodactyl omelet

since I was a cave boy. Thank you, grandson.

- [caws] - Oh!

[grunting]

[relaxing lullaby]

Wake me when it's New Year's.

- Merry Christmas, Mom. - Ooh!

A new tattoo?

[gasps] How did you know?

- I love your gift, big brother!

I'm calling him Maurice.

I've already taught him a few tricks.

[whistles]

- [chattering]

- What I don't understand is where you got

all the money to pay for these extravagant gifts.

- Yeah, right? [laughs]

What's money?

- That kid stole my Laser Phaser!

- That kid stole my tattoo!

- He steal egg. - [squawk]

- Oh, so that's how you got 'em.

[together] And we want 'em back.

- Happy holidays, time travelers!

You're just in time to open your presents.

- Gifts for us?

- Oh, you didn't have to do that.

- Fire?

all: It's what I always wanted!

all: Thank you, Patrick!

- I'm glad somebody appreciates my thoughtful gifts.

all: Patrick's under the mistletoe.

- Stay away from me. Stay away.

[screams]

- Oh, Patrick, if you don't want people to kiss you,

don't wear a mistletoe hat.

- Oh, huh, I thought it was because I'm so handsome!

Thanks, sis.

- Oh, whoa, ah, ah!

- Photo time!

Everybody say, "Merry Christmas".

all: Merry Christmas!

[upbeat music]

- This is Perch Perkins coming to you live

from the umpteenth annual Klopnodian Heritage Festival!

Here you can taste strange foods,

play bizarre games, and ogle the freaky costumes

on display in broad daylight.

So bring the whole family down, gawk at the screwballs,

and maybe try a traditional fried mud pie.

Good Neptune! That's real mud!

[laughter]

- I'm so happy to be sharing

my Klopnodian culture with my family.

- According to this pamphlet,

Klopnod is the silliest place in the ocean.

- And the weakest too.

In the 12th century, my army invaded

and conquered Klopnod in half a day.

- It says here that your army lost,

and they named a cream puff after you.

- GrandPat cream puffs. Get your GrandPats here!

- More like cream tough! Well!

- And here we have some more traditional Klopnod dishes.

Hundred-year-old bread.

- [chomps]

- Phony bologna. - Ah.

[grunting and struggling]

[grunting]

Whoa. - Ow, my leg!

- And this one is my favorite. Rock Soup.

- Uh...

- Oh, Bunny?

Is it okay if I wear this

"Kiss me, I'm Klopnodian" shirt if I'm not Klopnodian?

- No, wait, stop! I'm married!

[screams]

- I'll show these Klops who won the war!

- My other leg!

- Ugh! [grunting]

Hm?

Name a cream puff after me, will you?

- Loser! Hmmph!

- Whoo-hoo-hoo!

- Hey, kids, I've got a wonderful surprise for you.

You're going to be initiated

into the wonderful ways of Klopnod.

It's what we call Gashpluckt.

I'm so proud of you two,

participating in this family tradition

just like I did as a child.

- Father and son, come with us.

- Mother and daughter, come with us.

[together] Uh...

- This is The Flop Sweat Lodge.

Klopnodian males are afraid of everything,

and so we sweat.

This practice is called Gaplork.

Now, let us perspire.

- [shivers] - What's the matter, son?

Go ahead and sweat. - Mm.

I can't do it. [whispers inaudibly]

- Oh.

It seems the boy is sweat shy.

Would you mind turning away?

[grunt together]

- [inhales deeply]

[grunting and straining]

- Phew.

[together] Mm-mm.

[dramatic folk music]

- In Klopnod, it is tradition

that only women folk are allowed to swat sea flies.

The reason has been lost to the ages.

We call this practice Foinsapp.

- Ooh. - Uh...

- It takes skill and artistry.

Observe.

- Oh!

[together] Foinsapp!

* *

- Foinsapp! Foinsapp!

Foinsapp, foinsapp, foinsapp!

Foinsapp!

- Now it is your turn.

- But you've swatted all the flies.

- [chuckles]

- Go ahead, dear. - Foinsapp!

Foinsapp!

Foinsapp! [grunts]

Ugh!

[screams]

* *

[screaming]

* *

- In Klopnod, all shelves are 30 feet high because--

I don't know.

All Klopnodian boys must master the shelf pole.

We call this Spladap.

The wooden objects on the shelf

go into the corresponding holes in the table.

This you do without leaving the pole,

assisted only by the pole holder.

- Okay, here goes. - Ooh!

- Put it in the round hole!

[upbeat folk music]

The round hole in the table!

- Okay, son. Nice and easy.

- Nice and easy.

Whoa!

How'd I do?

- Wow, I did not even know we had a square hole.

One more to go. Get the star.

- That's it, son! Just--yikes!

- [screams]

[grunts]

- Eep! - Ah!

- I can't hold on! - I'm peeling out!

[screams]

Spladap? [whimpers]

[dramatic folk music]

- You will now learn the proper folding and raising

of the Klopnodian flag. This is called Katoof.

- That's not a flag. It's a tablecloth.

And it's got mustard stains on it.

- No, no, no. - All right!

All right. It's a flag.

- This is how we fold.

- You fold the flag, and then you raise it?

[martial music]

* *

Hm. [grunts]

- [gasps] It unfolded!

So disrespectful!

- Aw! - Sis!

both: Aww.

- I'm so glad that's over, big brother.

It was horrible.

- Thank goodness we'll never have to do that again.

- And now it's time for you to do that again.

You will show us all you have learned

during the traditional Klopnodian folk dance.

It is called Thewholeshebang! Curtains up!

[crowd roaring]

- Do you hear that? - Uh-huh.

- * Our country's yards are filled with clods *

* Dear old Klopnod! *

* Our country's yards are filled with clods *

* Dear old Klopnod *

- Foinsapp! - [screams]

- [screams]

[crowd booing]

Hey!

Whoa! Whoa!

all: Spladap! Spladap! Spladap!

- I don't wanna! - Come on, kid.

Whoa, whoa!

- Wha--oh!

[folk music]

* *

- Uh...

[crowd chanting] Katoof, Katoof, Katoof!

Katoof, Katoof, Katoof! - [grumbles]

[crowd booing]

It's a table cloth!

[crowd booing]

- I'm Kloppin' outta here.

all: Gaplork!

All: Gaplork, Gaplork, Gaplork, Gaplork!

- Sweat, son! You have to sweat!

For dear old Klopnod, Gaplork, son!

Gap that lork!

- I want to, but everybody's looking.

[shivering]

- People of Klopnod and Klopnod people,

my son would love to sweat for you all,

but the boy is sweat shy,

so if it wouldn't be too much trouble,

give the boy some privacy while he sweats?

Would you mind?

- Yeah. - Okay.

- Well, sure. - The boy is shy.

- I'm sweat shy too! - Yeah.

- [breathes deeply]

[straining]

[crowd gasping]

[enchanting orchestral music]

* *

[cheers and applause]

- [screams]

Throw down your cream puffs, you Klopnodians!

You're all my prisoners now! [laughs]

After thousands of years, I have my revenge!

[laughs]

- [gasps] - Sea fly!

[together] Foinsapp.

- Huh? [screams]

I surrender! I surrender!

- Wow, what a Gashpluckt day.

- I'd rather walk them than swat them.

- Mmm. - How do I turn these off?

- Son, it's time I introduce you

to the wonderful world of underarm corks.

[laughter]

- Foinsapp!

[upbeat music]

* *

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