Dear Santa, Are you real?
If you live at the North Pole,
how come I can't see your house when I look on Google Earth?
Are you Saint Nicholas?
'Cause you'd be incredibly old.
How do you have time to read all the letters
from all the children in the world?
And how many cookies and mince pies have you eaten
in all of history?
How do you get all of the presents in the sack?
Does your sack have to get bigger
every year, 'cause of exponential population growth?
And how do you get down the chimneys?
I put my head in ours, and it's really small,
even if you could squeeze down in 1 minute.
And there's 9 houses in my village, so that's nearly 10 minutes,
and there are millions of loads in the world.
It must be so hard being Santa these days.
I mean, what if, after all of that,
I'm staying at Grandma's?
Santa, how can you get 'round the whole world
in just one night?
My friend said, that you'd have to go so fast,
it would make you, and the sleigh,
and the reindeer, all burn up!
I think you are real,
but how do you do it?
For Christmas,
I would love a pink twinkle-bike with stabilizers.
But, please, don't bring it
if it makes you and the reindeer burn.
Love, Gwen Hines.
23 Mimosa Avenue
Trelew, Cornwall, England.
Dear Gwen,
Thank you for your letter and,
brilliant picture.
Your request for a pink
twinkle-bike will be passed on to Santa.
And, yes,
we do believe in Santa.
He is real.
He's the greatest man ever,
and he can get around the world to every child
without a single reindeer being roasted alive, or hurt.
By the time the sun comes up on Christmas day,
he'll get to you, too.
using his special
magic.
First field elf battalion set!
- Straighten that teddy bear, soldier. - Now!
Ho, ho, ho.
And a ho, ho, ho, ha.
Field elves, jingle.
Jingle! Jingle!
Drop-time: 18.14 seconds per household.
Left foot, sir.
- Right foot, sir. That's it. - Oof.
Dog food incoming!
Mini-chunks in the hole!
Wow! Twelve channel!
This kid must've been good his whole life!
Marvelous!
Hits me every time.
AWK! MERRY CHRISTMAS! AWK! MERRY CHRISTMAS!
AWK! MERRY--
Carrot chomped.
Ahem?
Oh!
Sorry. Ha ha.
Drop complete. Standby S-1.
- You'll never make it. - Our goose is merry!
Santa has left the building!
North Pole to S-1:
You have weather fluctuation. Update camouflage.
- Roger that, control.
Pole suggestion optimize.
- Denmark cleared. - Next drop: Flensburg, minus 12.4 seconds.
Flensburg ready. Press "E".
Right. That's a wrap for Denmark.
Converting milk and cookies to biofuel.
Hello?
Oh! Ah!
- Santa on bridge. - Sorry. Forgot PIN code.
Uh, we just crossed into Germany, sir.
Germany? Huh.
So many countries these days.
It's a big night, sir.
My, uh, 70th mission. Yes.
(Burps) Oh, sorry.
One too many, uh, mince pies.
So, you looking forward to it? Retirement?
- Ten seconds to Flensburg. - Maintain.
Carry on.
Update national protocol.
Delete rice pudding and carrot.
German "leave-out" for Santa is shoe upon step.
Shoe upon step.
Oy, soldier! Get off your bum-bum!
What happened to peace and goodwill to all men, Sarge?
It don't say nothing about elves, soldier.
Go! Drop!
S-1, hold drop altitude.
This is Germany, father.
Drive on the right. National dish: sausage.
OK. Let's show them, people!
Operation "Santa Claus is Coming to Town".
- Drop complete! - Drop Complete! - Drop complete! - Drop Complete!
Operational efficiency: 100%
- Wow! - Hold the handrail.
And,uh, that's Grace Smith. She wants an elephant.
What are you doing in here, Arthur?
I've got to get this letter from Maria Costa down to Steve.
- Oh, no! Maria! - Whoops. Bye-bye, Maria.
Is this yours, Arthur?
Thanks, Ken. Merry Christmas!
You want a ride, Arthur? (Giggling)
No. Thanks.
I'm not very good with heights and speed.
Buckle down, people!
Buckle down!
- Peter. - Ready, sir.
SitRep on Special Forces. Where are they?
America, sir. White House, sir. Delivering to the
President's children, sir.
Okay, team. Left out of the Oval Office,
right at the cabinet room, second floor, by the air vents.
You think of everything, sir.
Thank you, Peter. I'd love an espresso.
Coming right up!
Brother!
Merry Christmas!
- Ow! - Mind the glasses.
Oh, you thought of everybody!
Sorry, can I just...um...
- ...no. Never mind. - Ow!
Oh dear! So sorry!
- ...6...B... - Merry Christmas!
- ...0...I...C... - And a happy new year!
(sighs)
What a night, sir!
Out with the old Santa,
- in with the new, eh? - Well, I...
Let's focus on the now. Eh, Peter?
Support teams, prep Poland.
- Poland. - Wow! Poland!
Do you know what they call Dad here?
Święty Mikołaj! (Santa Claus)
- Anyway... - I guess he's harmless.
- Whoa! - Ow! - Ow!
Oh, terribly sorry. Is that your leg?
I'm sorry!
I'm really sorry, Steve.
It's my Christmas slippers on the ice.
[slippers playing "Silent Night"]
They're from China.
- Found it. - What?
The letter. You know? The one I said,
from Maria Costa.
She asked for a pocket puppy,
but she really wants the blue one,
'cause it looks like her auntie's dog Biffo that ran away.
I remember, 'cause she sent a picture of Biffo.
- See? - Uh, child 3G7X...
- A...A...Arthur... - This was Greece, sir!
Five countries ago, sir!
Oh. Um...
I just want it to be perfect for every kid.
Hey! There's Dad!
Santa! Maria Costa, Dad!
Did she get the blue one?
Little bro, it's great to have you around.
You...You bring a... a genuine aura...
...of seasonal positivity.
- Thank you. - But could you...
...not be in Mission Control...
at all?
For the rest of the night.
Oh. Um...ah...
- ...Yeah. - You're never gonna walk again.
Ah, of course.
Right.
Sorry if I...uh...
Brilliant!
They should put him somewhere out of harm's way.
What? Like the South Pole? (giggling)
[Klaxon sounding]
Waker! We have a waker!
And Santa's in there!
[Collective gasp]
Code red. Repeat:
Code red.
Santa?
Are you here?
[Toy "moo"s]
- (whispering) Steve... - Hold on, father.
Intel. Get me intel!
Santa's head seems to be resting on some sort of
- "Try Me" button, sir. [Collective gasp]
It's the "Quack Quack Moo Activity Farm", sir.
It features 12 separate animal sounds,
and sings "Old MacDonald Had a Farm".
The moment your father lifts his head,
there'll be 10 seconds of constant "moo"ing.
- Risk of "moo"ing: 98% - Captain Moreno.
You're going to have to take the batteries out.
But he'll have to get past the wrapping, the box,
and 14 twist-ties anchoring it to the cardboard.
- It's too noisy! - And you'll wake the boy!
He'll see Santa!
And, at 1816,
when Santa was seen,
they tracked him home. He had to go into hiding.
No Christmas for six years!
The elves! All alone!
- The elves? Alone? - What are we going to do?
Calm down! It's not 1816 now.
Moreno, your HOHO is equipped with
state of the art EMF sensor technology
hacked directly from the military's missile program.
I want you to locate the batteries
and perform a level 3 gift-wrap incision.
Go in through the robin.
Incising robin.
Big girl's blouse. Lot of fuss.
I did my 70 missions
without any of this malarkey!
Didn't we, lad? [Reindeer whines]
Twist-ties clear.
Can I watch with you, Grand-Santa?
Shut the door! Hell's ***,
- It's the North Pole! - Is the kid still asleep?
He mustn't see Santa!
Dad would rather die than spoil it for him.
What if you do wake the old nipper?
A whack on the head with a sock full of sand
and a dab of whiskey on the lips;
they don't remember in the morning.
- [laughing] - (gasps)
- Screwdriver elf. - Yes!
What happened to going down the chimney?
Never did me any-- (wheezing)
Get off me!
Down, boy! Basket!
Here you are, Grand-Santa.
I made you a nice mince pie.
I can't eat that. It gets in me teeth.
Oh, dear.
Now, I've just got to visit the elf hospital,
look over a treaty with Greenland, and make the gravy.
Then we'll finally have the whole family home for Christmas.
They're nearly done.
- [Beeping] - Oh, no!
- [Collective gasp] - It's the detachable milkmaid!
She's got her own power source!
They've got 5 seconds 'til she starts singing!
Four!
Three!
Two!
One!
Use your HOHO!
Exit Code 12. Code 12!
[Toy screeching] OLD MACDONALD HAD A FARM.
[Car horn playing "La Cucaracha"]
OK! Go! Go! Go!
Revise drop-time to 42.13 seconds.
Let's pick this up, people!
Drop-time revised.
Picking this up.
3!...2!...1!...
Mission accomplished.
- [All cheering] - Hey!
Oh, what a night that was!
That detachable milkmaid!
Just the beginning. Right, sir?
I...got you a present, sir.
Not "S" for Steve, sir.
"S" for Santa!
Oh...I don't know about that, Peter.
Okay! Let's bring them home!
CCTV in every room! I had to go under the floor!
Stand back! Olly Injury coming through!
Hey! Fancy a trip on the S-1, Arthur?
It only goes 150,000 miles per hour.
No, thanks. I see a bit of the world from my office, you know.
Some of the stamps I get are amazing!
[Honking] Excuse me!
Santa!
Dad! Dad!
Dad! Oops. I'm sorry. So sorry.
- Dad! Dad! - Santa's waving!
- He's waving at me! - He's waving at me!
- Arthur. - Happy Christmas!
You, too.
You were fantastic!
Look: Christmas slippers!
Huh. Well done. Yes.
- Father? - Ah! There he is!
Steve!
Mission: Accomplished!
Tonight, we delivered 2 billion presents,
on this, my 70th mission!
Standby!
Oh, thank you.
You know, I sometimes think I couldn't do it without you,
and my splendid Margaret,
who stood by me all these years,
very ably doing all that, uh,
stuff that women do when their husbands are at work. Marvelous.
And, uh, Arthur. Yes.
Doing vital work in maintenance.
- Really vital. - I, um,
I work in letters, Dad.
Letters. Of course. I'm so sorry.
You moved me after I tripped over that plug
and melted down the elf barracks.
I lost everything in that flood.
Yes. Now...
Many years ago,
my father told me,
[snoring]
that being Santa
is the best job in the world.
He was right.
I loved it.
I can't wait for year seventy one!
Merry Christmas everyone!
What do you get if you eat
Christmas decorations?
Tinsel-itis!
Isn't this the best bit of Christmas?
It certainly is, Arthur.
The whole family together.
- How about a toast, Malcolm? - Oh!
Uh, well ... here's to me ...
doing an even better job next year!
I mean, you're already perfect, Dad.
Ha! That turkey did more than him.
Ha! Ha! H--
You wouldn't understand, Father.
I'd rather move things on since your day.
Eh, Steve?
Forget Techno Tommy.
He's texting on his calculator after another job.
It's a Hand-held Operational & Homing Organizer:
the HOHO 3000.
- I'm enacting mission closure. - Ooo. Whoopie doo.
Aren't you the Fancy Nancy?
Don't matter what you come up with, son.
You may be the next in line,
but you'll never get to be Santa unless you knock him off.
Um...
I've got you all a present.
After all the hard work,
I wanted everyone to have some Christmas fun.
Ta-da!
What is that?
(Gasps)
- I'm Santa! - No. I'm Santa.
This is ridiculous. You just took the piece out of my hand!
Well, I am actually Santa,
so I rather think I should have it.
Well, yes. You're the non-executive figurehead.
Exactly. The figurehead.
It means a fatty with a beard and fits the suit.
The other pieces are good, too.
Or, I can make extra Santa's for everyone.
Why don't you be the candle, Steve?
All those bright ideas, eh?
Fine. I'm the candle.
Arthur's the turkey. And you, Father, are, of course,
Santa.
Grand-Santa, you can be this charming relic.
Relic? Relic?
I did the whole of Christmas in one of these, Arthur!
Oh, yes. I didn't need a
trillion elves in blinking hats.
We don't just fly about throwing lead-painted toys down chimneys any more.
- That space sends you back to Lapland. - Why?
Malcolm, where did you get those?
Just moving things along.
- Do I win? - Cheats! The pair of you!
- Mum, are you okay? - Polar bear, dear.
Attacked me on the ice.
Good job I did that online survival course,
or it would be one less for turkey next year.
Christmas has gone right down the Rodney hole.
You're a postman with a spaceship!
My S-1 festivized the world
at 1,860 times the speed of sound!
Christmas, 1941.
World War II.
I did the whole thing with six reindeer and a drunken elf!
I was shot at, Arthur. Took twelve direct hits.
- Lost three reindeer. - What happened to the elf?
Fell out of the sleigh over Lake Geneva. Never saw him again.
Goodness. Now,
Christmas crackers.
Sing "Silent Night" backwards.
Who would know that? [DING]
♪ tneliS thgin! yloH thgin! llA si mlac, lla si thgirb. ♪♪
I went on alone.
I could still do it now, Arthur.
- Just gimme a go! - In a heap of sticks.
Heap of-- I'll show you,
Rumpy the robot!
- Oh, dear. - Oh, my. That won't make--
- I would've won, anyway. - What?
Oh, yeah! Run away, now that you're losing!
Steve!
Steve! Don't be upset.
Look: You keep this.
Then you can be Santa next time.
That'll be you there, Steve.
Next year, I bet.
You'll be great.
How many times, Arthur?
It's the North Pole.
Shut the doors!
I secured the gift, sir. Gift secured.
It just can't be. The system is foolproof.
- It has to be an error, sir. - Error!?
I spotted the ribbon glinting in the shadows, sir.
I am actually trained in wrapping.
But I say to myself, "Bryony,"
the wrapping looks okay. Thank goodness!
- But that present should not be lying in the-- - Yes. Yes. Thank you, soldier.
Someone got the wrong present? That's awful!
- Whose is it? - No one gets the wrong present.
47785BXK...
Gift undelivered?!
They got ... nothing.
- (shrugs) - A child's been missed.
Not necessarily.
A child's been missed!
Do you want to wake up the whole North Pole?
Good idea. A CHILD'S BEEN MISSED!!!!
Arthur!
Everything all right?
There's been ... a glitch.
- We've missed a child! - Really?
Dear, oh dear. That's awful.
How did you let it happen, Steven?
How did I--
- I thought it was your mission. - Oh, no, no.
- This is your department. - What are we going to do?
We must...um... We must...
What must we do, Steven?
There's...nothing to do.
The mission was a success.
We can't leave a child out of Christmas.
Sunrise at destination is 7:39 A.M.
- There's no way to get there in time. - No way.
- Except, of course, the S-1. - The S-1.
- Righto. - No!
The S-1 has just traveled 7 million miles.
- We could damage it! - Oh, dear.
- And, risk the lives of the elves. - Oh, dear.
I'll go, sir.
Bryony Shelfley, Wrapping Division. Grade Three, sir!
- Who asked you? - I wasn't called up for field duty this year,
Served up my mission in gift-wrap support.
I wrapped 264,000 presents in 3 days, sir.
If you want that bike delivered in a perfect state of enwrapment,
- then I'm your elf. - No one is going!
- It's impossible! - But, this child!
It's a margin of error of 0.00000001514834%, sir.
Wow.
I mean, "Hello??" Where's the champagne?
My department has delivered the most
outstanding Christmas ever.
Oh. Uh...
Well done, us.
But, there's a child without a present.
Arthur, Christmas is not a time for emotion.
We will get 47785BXK a present
within...the window of Christmas.
We'll messenger the item. It'll be there in 5 days.
But, that'll ruin the magic.
If there was any way at all to make the drop tonight;
it can't be done.
Your brother knows about these things.
I won't sleep easy after this, Arthur.
But there it is. It can't be done.
Merry Christmas.
Arthur,
you're compromising the wrapping!
That is not a toy!
Well, it is, but that's not the-- ARTHUR!
C'mon, C'mon, C'mon, C'mon.
Child 47785BXK...
Where are you?
Ah!
Dear Santa, and my friend doesn't believe in you.
For Christmas, I'd like a pink twinkle-bike.
Gwen Hines.
23 Mimosa Avenue
Trelew, Cornwall, England.
Lights out.
This figurehead thing.
I'm not just a fatty with a suit, am I?
Of course not, dear.
No. I'm Santa.
Children...
rely on me.
- Here. - Thank you.
It's just cheques for the boys and cash for Father.
Oh, Malcolm.
The 2 billion other gifts, dear.
Christmas has become such a mad rush!
Until you...retire....
Retire?
Sit next to Father, watching Steve on TV.
You are sent a level 1 access HOHO. Please state your identity.
State your identity.
Who would I be?
You'd be my Malcolm, dear.
And there's...Arthur.
Dear Arthur.
What a puzzle.
- This one's from me, dear. - Oh.
Happy Christmas, Margaret.
Oh, thank you.
I'm still very much after the two of you, now.
Ho-ho--
Night, dear.
Good night, Malcolm.
It just can't be. It can't.
It just can't be. It can't. It just CAN'T--
What's all this caboodle, young man?
Grand-Santa! It's this little girl.
- She's been missed. - Ha!
So much for your brother's fancy-pants technology.
No! Steve and Dad wracked their brains,
- but they said it's impossible. - Is it, now?
Missed a child. Dear, oh, dear.
Sends shivers down me shins.
In 2 hours, she's gonna wake up,
head downstairs, search under the tree, and
the look on her face...
when there's nothing there.
She won't understand.
She'll think she's the one kid in the whole world
that Santa doesn't care about.
She'll feel so...
left out.
On Christmas night, he comes.
Gwen can't not have a present from Santa.
Do you know, Arthur,
there is a way.
It's impossible.
They used to say it was impossible
to teach women to read.
Follow me.
It's--
It's the actual sleigh!
Hello, Evie.
I though it was scrapped years ago.
So did everyone else.
I know.
Icelandic birch.
Arctic balsa.
Built in 1845.
Able to reach 50,000 miles per hour
at a height of 40,000 feet!
- With a-- - Over here, you sprig of tinsel!
Potash of Carboniloroxy Amilocitrate...
Magic dust!
Mined from the aurora borealis.
She doesn't still...
go?
Not just a hobby, Arthur.
Great-great grandchildren of the original 8.
Dasher!
Wow!
Dancer! Prancer!
Uh, what are the others called? I could never ruddy remember.
B-Bambi? -John!
You there, with the white ear.
And you. Not you, you bag of fleas.
Uh... Ah!
- I'm not really good with big animals! - Piffle!
Don't get bit-mind. They can smell fear.
Let's hitch 'em up!
Grand-Santa!
Ah, excuse me.
You can go to Gwen,
on the old sleigh, with the reindeer,
and the magic dust, and everything!
It's a miracle!
You're coming too, lad.
Me? On that? Up there?
Pulled by them? Ah!
N-no way.
I'm 136. I can't do it on me own. I need an elf.
I can't fly a sleigh!
I can't even ride a bike without stabilizers.
I know! Let's wake Steve. He'll--
No!
He's a worrier, Arthur.
What if he stops us?
Gwen's forgotten.
You really care.
Well, of course I do!
I was Santa, too.
Think of your dad.
Lying awake, chewing his
beard off with worry over this girl.
Don't you want to help, for once?
Make him proud?
I can't.
I just... I...
No! I can't.
Ready?
No!
Ha Ha!
You promised not to go too fast!
I get travel sick,
and I'm allergic to snow!
Ho ho! So you're a son of Santa?
Wait! My slippers!
They're not **!
Dash! Dash!
DAAAASSSHHH!!!
Ha! Ha! Ha!
See? Who's Santa now?
Ho-ho-ho!
Whoooo!
Aah! Put me down!
- What's the matter, boy? - I'm having a heart attack!
- Ha! Ha!Ha! - Ga...
They've never flown before. Just gotta break them in.
Now: (whistles)
Come away!
Dash away!
Look, Arthur:
All those stars!
We're one of them, now.
A shooting star!
Stuck that there for your dad when he was a boy.
Dad? He sat here?
So did I.
Every young heir to the Pole gets took out by his father.
Right back to Saint Nick.
We Clauses used to be the only men in the world
who could fly, Arthur. See all this?
It was a gift.
Great big ball wrapped in oceans and mountains.
I remember the look on your father's face when he saw it.
Fish!
- With horns! - Ha, ha!
Want to help me make a snowman?
Ah! Where's the seatbelt?
Whoa!
Woo hoo!
Can Dad do that?
Did he make a snowman for Steve?
Robot Roy? Ha! Ice and cocoa.
Next Santa, and he's never even sat in a sleigh.
- Is that...? - The map of the Clauses.
Used every Christmas night in history.
Whatever your brother says, Arthur,
it's the same old world.
(Both) Whaaaaaaaa!
- What is it? - No idea! I've never seen it before!
- It's a city! - New one erected.
They're always putting these things up.
I remember the first time I ran into Chicago.
Chicago wasn't on the map?
Now then, where are we?
Aha! Here we are. See?
Oho! No, that's Peking.
- Um...Ahead, there's a-- - Whoa!
They can see us!
Well, pull the camouflage lever!
Now, then. We'd better draw in a few of these sky-scratchers. Just...
Well, that's a steam train, you ninny!
So, what do they call this place?
To-ron-to.
- Toronto's in Canada! - The Santa's always come through Canada.
Nobody lives here.
It's nice and quiet.
'Til your brother came along, with all his,
"You can't cut through Saigon. There's a war." rubbish.
I don't need him to tell me what's ahead. I've got eyes.
Grand-Santa!!
Ah! It's an elf!
Bryony Shelfley. Ow!
This is more stronger than your gift wrap, sir,
- but I can fix it. - A stowaway.
I can wrap anything, sir,
with three bits of sticky tape. Three.
Good. Wrap yourself a parachute.
Grand-Santa!
Ah!
Toronto.
- Present and correct. - Not quite, sir.
You've lost one of the reindeer!
Quantitative easing... What the...? Hello?
- What elf? - Bryony Shelfley, sir.
The crazy wrapping elf, you know?
Security tracked her to sector 9-G, and...
- ...we think Arthur was here. - Arthur?
Who else leaves the door open, huh, sir?
The old sleigh barn?
That was sealed up decades ago!
After that terrible night,
Grand-Santa sneaked out and...
Thank goodness he's too old these days
to get into trouble.
Bash it with a brick, Arthur!
Go on!
Grab its antlers and tug.
I may just be a wrapping operative, sir,
but this contravenes...
seventeen
specific mission regulations!
I'm in charge here, not Billy the bureaucrat.
Tug!
Eighteen.
Wrap your head.
Come on, lad!
You're as much use as a cheese chopstick!
Got it!
Oh.
Oh, my big Aunt Betty...
It'll have to do. Pass it down!
What?
Permission to breathe, sir.
I have about 9 seconds left before I black out.
One breath.
- Sir? - I said, "One."
Hurry up, Arthur.
Don't we need a whole one?
You know, to balance the sleigh?
Oh, it won't balance the sleigh. No. No.
If anything, it'll slow us down.
So, why are we taking it?
It's for Gwen.
Eight beautiful reindeer.
That's what she's dreaming of.
The jingly bells, the sleigh on the roof.
- Yeah, but... - That's what the kids want,
not some spaceship!
We're giving her the star treatment.
What now?
We have a waker, sir.
With a gun!
That's it, lad. You distract it!
- Grand-Santa! - Who's there?
Uh--
We come in peace.
Our craft has to travel around the world
in less than an hour!
We need the sign for our slei--
craft.
Sorry I can't pay you.
Where I come from, we don't have moneyyyy--
Christmas, 1923:
Had a heart attack at the reins.
Left ventricle popped out me mouth.
Pushed it back down and carried on.
Ha, ha.
Big, isn't it? The Atlantic.
You think we should stop and ask someone?
Pishy whipper! We're nearly there!
See? I take the North Star there
as a fixed point,
then I plot my bearings from--
That's a plane, sir.
Insubordination! I'll have you harpooned, elf.
I thought it would be chillier near England.
Uh...globular warming.
Ha! Land ahoy!
There it is! Told you.
Now, now. There you go.
Wow!
England.
Maybe we've come to the right a bit.
We're a reindeer short.
France. Bonjour.
Ou est le boulangerie? (Where is the bakery?)
They have elephants in France?
The odd stray. They breed in the drains.
This way.
Buenos Días. Hola. (Good day. Hello.)
Paris zoo.
Then this is where they keep the lions!
They won't eat me. I'm Santa!
Lie down! Right.
- Call the keeper! - How old is this?
Atlantis? Here be cannibals?
You gotta watch out for cannibals.
This isn't France, is it?
Technically, it's North Africa. Ah!
Serengeti National Park, Tanzania.
Rubbish. How can you possibly be sure?
The GPS in the HOHO, sir.
Take her! Take the elf!
GPS? Why didn't you say?
I'm a wrapping elf. I don't navigate.
I wrap! I use it to draw pictures of bows.
She's right. You've brought us to Africa!
I've seen it on a stamp.
I'm too young to die, Arthur!
Do something! Arthur!!!!!!
The old sleigh? What is happening here?
It was supposed to be chopped up for firewood decades ago!
- Who on Earth would be that devious? - Old people, sir.
Shall I get you your stress ball?
We have a finer comms array than the Pentagon,
and you say we can't contact him
except by some crazy, ancient--
Toodle-loo!
- Here comes the cavalry! - Ernie Clicker, sir.
Whole of communications for 46 missions.
Me and your granddad saw some time.
- I remember, once-- - Wow. Must catch up soon. Now...
Ooh, you're in a hurry. I can tell.
Oh, this is ridiculous. Can't we hurry this?
Ooh, you can't rush the Stigdamater.
Got to play her gentle.
So, what do you wish to say?
I wouldn't worry.
It's not like they're facing man-eating lions.
♪ Silent night
♪ H-holy night
♪ All is calm-- AAH!
♪All is bright
♪ I realize this is mental
♪ but it's all that I know
♪ It's Christmas, nice kitty,
♪ so please, let us go
♪ Sleep in heavenly peace
- (LIONS ROAR) - AAAAhhhh!!!!
Whoa! Dad!
- Oh! Something's coming through! - What does it say?
ROAR...GRRR....
Get off her! That's me Evie,
you mangy moron!
No! That's Gwen's gift!
Only children get to tear the wrapping!
- Bryony?! - Automatic tape gun!
Bad doggy! Bad doggy!
Laser-guided scissors!
Oh, no! Not the...
Standard-issue gift-wrap!
There's no time for a bow!
There's always time for a bow!
Not that knob!
- Oh! Good night! - Oh, no!
- Uhhh... - Something else!
No! Leave it alone!
My camera!
Wait! Look!
- Whoo-hoo-hoo-hoo! - Wow!
(All laughing)
- Whoa! - What's so funny?
Look what they've done to my Evie!
And the map!
But, it's okay! We've got this! Look:
Mimosa Avenue, Trelew.
Proceed to the highlighted route.
What's the point? Look at us.
And my camera totally bad-jacked.
- How do I get my picture now? - What picture?
The sleigh on the roof,
the eight beautiful reindeer, and Santa--me--
going down the chimney!
That's what I wanted them to see.
They missed the kid, but I got there.
My way.
That's why you came.
Not for Gwen.
1,368 miles, then, slight left.
For the love of Lulu,
bossed about by Tim TomTom.
Try them again. Keep trying!
All this about 1 child... in 600 million!
We can turn their **.
Don't worry, sir. Children are stupid.
Either he won't know he got missed,
or he'll think he's been bad!
It's a win-win!
You missed one? A nipper?
What's all this here for, if you've missed one?
Would you please type faster?
Systems critical. Lead in Christmas.
Oopsy-daisy.
Peter?
Let go of my hand, please.
Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.
And get me IT.
Descend 1,000 feet.
You are at your destination.
Whoo-hoo! We did it!
Woopty-doo.
In 100 yards, turn left.
Straight ahead. Turn right. Left again.
You are at your client's dwelling.
Steady!
We made it. I survived!
I'll walk home, I'll get a boat,
but I am never getting back in that crazy flying death-trap ever again!
Go on.
Get it over.
I want my bed.
You're not coming?
You have to deliver the present!
You put your special coat on.
You're our Santa!
I said, me and Evie could get here and we did.
The rest is just elf work.
Go on , Festive Freddy, sling your hook.
It doesn't matter how we got here.
The sleigh on the roof,
the jingle bells; the eight reindeer.
Gwen would never have seen that.
I wish Dad could see this.
It would take such a load off his mind.
So,
what are your orders?
You're a Claus.
You give the orders.
Yeah! Oh, um...
I'm just happy being an elf, really.
You know, just part of it all.
You want the orderly to go through the cat flap?
Oh, yes. That's a grand idea.
Do you want the girl to let you in?
Brilliant! Thank you, Bryony.
And do you want... Wait!
Uh, the alarm? Yes! Definitely!
Is this your first time?
Bryony?
He loves these slippers even more than you do!
Merry Christmas.
When you put the address into the HOHO,
- what did you see? - A list of Trelews.
I just clicked on the first one.
Which was not Trelew, England!
We're in the wrong Trelew!
They've been watching us.
They've seen Evie!
It's just like last time!
Governments tonight are waking to news of a UFO
traveling around the globe at incredible speed.
Ha, ha!
The clear sighting was at this tractor dealership in Idaho.
...and eyeballs on its feet, and a pointy little head.
- It asked me for a sign. - We're on the news!
And from the trail left in Toronto,
these beings do not appear to be friendly.
We are online, sir.
This is KPP-Charlotte.
** police found a little furry thing
which tried to mate with a dog.
Paul, I have calls reporting a steam train flying around downtown.
- What do you see on satellite? - It's gone black over Mexico.
This thing is going faster than anything we know of.
The herd is now in Mozambique's airspace,
threatening the fragile peace
between the two nations.
Two billion items delivered,
and we didn't leave a footprint in the snow. And now?
Sir, we have lost 50% of our data.
No! No! We have 18 pulse data reservoirs of a trillion terabytes!
Sorry. Auto-save was off.
Shall I sock it, sir?
Quite hard?
Sir, there's a polar bear on level 6.
Sir, why is Arthur out there?
He missed one.
A nipper.
I mean: 47785BXK.
[SEAL BARKING] [BIRD SQUAWKING]
Sir, we've got something.
Bryony Shelfley.
It's her HOHO.
We can still get there.
We just have to go faster. Higher.
You changed your tune.
I'm not going anywhere!
I'm not here!
- I taped myself in, Grand-Santa! - Leave me alone!
- It's that terrible night, all over again! - What night?
Last time I took Evie for a spin,
I didn't know it was the Cuban Missile crisis!
I nearly started World War III.
Someone has to drive!
Oh, no! Fencer! Mincer! Come back!
- Bryony! - Hi-ya!
Grand-Santa, get here!
Oy, that's me new hip!
Please! I'll read you Gwen's letter.
Stone-deaf. I'm 136.
- What's that? - It's Steve!
- Steve! - Tell him I'm not here!
Grand-Santa says he's not here.
Hi. I'm looking for a missing relic.
- Steve, three words. - Is the first one help?
- Yes! You can help us, Steve! - It was him!
Trusty the Madman! He forced me to come!
Elf, back me up if you want a career.
- I forced you? - You see? Look--
What do you want, Grand-Santa? Let me guess.
Hmm. A picture of you, in the sleigh,
delivering the gift, to show me how it's really done?
- No. - Do you know the picture they'll have tomorrow?
You led away in handcuffs.
The Santa who was seen. By everybody on Earth.
The Santa who ruined Christmas.
Ruined it!
We'll fix this, Steve.
We'll be back home in the whup of a reindeer's buttocks.
And Evie can go back in mothballs.
You can forget she ever existed.
You can't just go home!
- What about Gwen? - Gwen.
For that, you'd threaten my whole operation?
Steve, you said if there was any way
to get there, you would. Well, this is it!
Look: The old sleigh's perfect!
Ah, right. Well, anyway, it goes really fast,
even with things missing,
and we've got quite a few reindeer left,
and, if I'm sick again, I can be sick in a bag!
I'll wrap him one.
- We can help them, sir. - "No one missed", sir.
"All correct presents, present and correct," sir!
If you help us, Steve, we can do it.
Grand-Santa and Arthur would be the heroes of the night, sir!
Come home, now!
If we all just gave in to Christmas spirit,
there'd be chaos!
- We're on our way, Steve. - No!
Santa would want to get to Gwen.
Ask him. Please.
Arthur...
This is Dad we're talking about.
There was a time when he cared about every last gift tag,
but now, he just wants to be loved.
Get some rest.
No.
He's lying awake,
worrying his beard off about Gwen.
Ho-ho-ho.
Off to the land of Nod.
Please, do not disturb until December 26.
- Is that it, dear? - Yes, Malcom! Press 3.
No!
Santa's the most caring man in the world.
So, why are you here, not him?
Aaahhh!!!!
[DING!]
Don't leave me, Arthur.
Poor old man and his reindeer,
on our own at Christmas.
At least have the decency to finish us off with a rock!
Poor Evie.
Sun will be up soon.
It's Christmas!
Christmas is for kids.
You grow out of it.
What, in the last six minutes?
I know what you all say about me, you know.
"He belongs in the South Pole."
"Poor Arthur."
"What a puzzle."
Well, you were right.
All that fuss over one kid. Well, you were right.
All that fuss over one kid.
I must be ridiculous!
This is nice.
Good to get away from it all, you know.
All the Christmas fuss.
I'm sorry I've messed things up, lad.
You see, the night I last took Evie out,
when there was all that....fuss,
your father came to me.
I'll never forget it;
couldn't look me in the eye.
"Dad," he says,
"Steve thinks it best you don't fly again."
"We're scrapping the sleigh."
Me only son,
who used to sit where you sit, looking up at me.
I just wanted them to remember
who I used to be.
I was a bit like you, lad.
Keen as cranberry.
So was your dad.
You get old. That's all.
Everything...changes.
Does it?
How can I ever write
another letter saying that Santa cares?
Good night, Dad.
Sleep well.
Sir, we know you shouldn't believe rumors,
but we do.
Is it true you missed a child?
Me? No, no.
Well, in a way, yes.
[ALL GASP]
It was just one.
In fact, not even that.
Naught point, lots more naughts,
then a number,
and some sort of percent at the end.
Not really an error. Just a one.
One child doesn't matter?
- Which one? - Well, I...
Well, I did nice ones in **, does those ones matter?
What about my ones in Germany?
- One of them was twins! - They don't matter. **
Why don't you ask Steve? He can explain.
- Fiendishly clever. - But, aren't you in charge, sir?
Of course. I'm Santa.
Sir, if the one that got missed doesn't matter,
why have Arthur and Grand-Santa gone to take it?
- What? Oh... - Malcolm,
What's this about Arthur?
It's the religious children who don't matter.
Santa says they don't matter 100%.
Is it true? Children aren't real? They're just anti-matter?
Ssh! No! No! Look,
I festivized every single country in the world!
You see? This one. This one. This one. All of them!
I mean, who cares about one single tiny child?
[ALL GASP]
Uh...I do.
Oh, Arthur.
My poor boy!
Why on Earth would he...
Well, you're his brother, Steve. How could you let him?
And, um, about this child you missed,
I'm really not sure you made the right decision.
Is that bird poo on your shoulder?
Right. Over there, is satellite tracking.
Navigation. Data analysis.
Copy machine's by the door. Good night... Santa.
♪ Glorious in excelsis
Um...
I'll be right back.
Dear Xiao Lang,
Thanks for your letter, and drawing of Santa
tripping over your dog. It was hilarious!
Dear Alessandro, Sorry your family's had a hard year,
but Santa is real.
Dear Lois, I promise,
Santa will come.
He's the greatest man, ever.
- Can I burn this? - Sure.
There's millions like it.
Pathetic!
This picture...
This...This drawing--
It isn't of Dad!
Or you...
Or Steve...
This is Santa!
Ha, ha! And as long as we get the bike
to Gwen before she wakes up,
then Santa came!
And he cares!
Ha, ha!
Ha, ha ha!
- Aah! - ♪ Jingle bells, Jingle bells,
♪ Jingle all the way
♪ Oh what fun it is to reach Gwen Hines on Christmas day. Hey!
♪ Jingle bells
♪ This boat smells
♪ 3000 miles to go
Oh, dear. I've seen this before.
Sleigh fever, they call it.
Pressure of Christmas sends a man doolally tap.
Santa Claus the 16th got it 1802.
Every child that year got a sausage
nailed to a piece of bark.
Arthur! Do you really think
you can row the Atlantic Ocean in the next...
37 minutes?
It's not too late, yet!
Just... have to keep... going.
We need a blunt instrument.
Knock him out and regroup.
Make a legal U-turn, then slight right,
in 4,228 miles.
You do know we're going around in circles?
You know, we're not the only ones
Maybe I will see Evie again!
What do you mean?
Reindeer are brave, powerful beasts,
but they're also dappled cretins
with twigs on their heads.
They'll just keep going in a straight line,
right around the world!
They'll be way up in the sky,
flying at unimaginable speed,
but they'll pass right over our heads!
Great! We CAN get the sleigh back!
Chief De Silva.
So, where is this UFO?
It's circling the Earth, ma'am.
19 minutes ago, it went into orbit.
You? Up there?
Catch that with this?
Magic dust!
You crack it over your head. You'll have to focus.
The sleigh will be coming at you at 45,000 miles an hour.
- 45,000? - You'll be torn in half!
Depends on the angle the sleigh hits.
You might just get beheaded.
I've got a phobia of being beheaded, and heights!
And speed, and reindeer,
and... the buttons.
- Buttons? - Yeah. I'm pretty much scared of everything.
Gwen thinks you're coming.
You can't do this. Yes, you can!
No, you can't. Yes, you can. COME ON, ARTHUR!
Don't worry, son.
Only a raving lunatic--
I have to worry! It's the only thing I'm good at!
- Worry me. - The sleigh will be back any minute!
Come on! Worry me! Quickly!
Imagine Gwen, all alone.
- nothing under the tree...
Here we go!
Aaahh! I don't like this! Stop!
- Stop! Get me down! - Tears, as she finds she's been left out!
Screaming "Santa didn't come!"
Oh, Gwen... Aaaaahhhhoho!
It's just too high!
Gwen, in the street, surrounded by kids on new bikes,
pointing, "That's the girl that Santa hates!"
- No! - She runs away.
Alcoholic by the age of 9.
Dead before she gave birth--
She may never build a snowman again!
What if there are buttons on the sleigh I don't know about?
Here they come!
Eep!
Um...
Yaaaaaahhhhhh!!!
How do you think he's, uh...
Fine. Fine.
Probably just, uh...
Ah! Ah! Ah!
Waaaaahhhhh!
[Whistling "Yankee Doodle"]
So, how come you didn't scrap the sleigh, sir?
I threatened the elves.
Said I'd feed 'em to the polar bears.
[Swallows nervously]
Elf, how do you fancy
being the one to tell his parents about all this?
Yaaaahhh!
Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!
Yaaay! Arthur, you did it!
I did it with worry!
I'm sure you're dying with fear!
Proceed to the highlighted route.
Proceed to the--
Just keep worrying about Gwen!
I'll find a way there, boy, whatever it takes!
To Trelewwww!
Margaret,
Hand me my "me" suit.
All sorted.
Steve's...uh.... holding the fort,
while I deliver the present. Yes.
And find Arthur a father.
Well done, dear.
Trelew's on a course for 187.7 degrees
from the geographic pole,
but as it's the old sleigh,
we should allow a drift margin of 1,000 miles outside the Greenwich meridian.
I put a sweater for Arthur, your father's pills,
and some nice, sweet tea.
Curtains.
- S-1 dented. - Sir!
Scratch down side.
"Popped out to take present"
"Turkey sandwich in fridge. Mom and Dad"
Espresso machine broken.
Idiot Arthur!
Send everyone crazy!
He'll destroy Christmas!
And you'll never get to be Santa!
Steven!
I, um...
23 Mimosa Avenue,
- Trelew. - Oof!
Really, Malcolm, there's no harm in using a manual. Men...
Margaret, I order you to disembark. It's not safe.
Piffle. I did a bite of light-flying course on the Internet.
It can't be that different.
Oh. Steve.
You dented it!
You take it out without asking!
Malcolm! You told me he knew!
You know how Steve feels about his S-1.
My S-1!
"S" for Santa!
I'm flying to this child!
She's all that matters! Not me, your son!
Not the 2 billion things I did right tonight! No.
This is about that pool table, isn't it?
I told you, you should have written to me.
I was eight!
- You're my dad! - For goodness' sake!
Arthur and Grand-Santa are out there
probably not wearing nearly enough layers,
and you two are bickering over a big, red toy!
I... I'm not bickering.
If Steven could just stand back-- OOF!
Air bag.
You drive, Steven.
Thank you.
So, since gift delivery to child 47785BXK is all that seems to matter,
I'll do it myself.
Then we'll pick up Arthur and Grand-Santa
from whatever ditch they've ended up in.
Maximum thrust.
Um... when Santa said he'd be right back... what do you think he'd, um--
He's not coming back!
The Santas are leaving!
The children don't matter?
- Christmas doesn't matter! - Nothing, man!
It's like 1816!
- Abandon the North Pole! - Everybody panic!
Are you sure you want to delete Christmas?
Meltdown: 10 minutes.
I know where we can find a map, lad.
It's a bit risky, this.
Breaking the rules, even in the old days!
There:
Biggest map in the world!
Dash!
Friends, on this night of peace,
we stand confronted by an unknown danger:
aliens.
Aliens from space.
What talk about? Maybe the aliens come in peace?
They burst an inflatable Santa Claus in Toronto, on Christmas night!
Let us attempt contact,
but be ready to save our planet!
Hold tight, lad!
This is where it gets really rough.
Not now, you sack of antlers!
- Yay! - Woo-hoo!
Coming down through the atmosphere, ma'am.
- We'll see it any minute. - 46...
45...44...43...
They'll be waiting for us, sir.
We were on the news!
All their technology, against my Evie!
Well, come on! Let's do it with worry!
Santa mustn't be seen, eh, lad?
Let's give them something to shoot at!
We have visual. Here it comes!
[All gasp]
Take us to your leader! Ha, ha!
England!
No sign of anyone.
- The sun's coming up! - Come on, lad!
You can do it!
Mankind greets you. Do you copy?
Season's greetings from mankind.
Good morning. Do you copy?
The hull is some kind of woody substance, ma'am.
Like... wood.
Coated in lead paint!
- Yes, it seems to be alive. - And furry!
Come on, lad. Put your back into it!
♪ Dashing through the snow
♪ On a one-horse open sleigh
♪ Over the fields we go
♪ Laughing all the way Ha! Ha! Ha!♪♪
I have something. It's very faint, but--
Scramble drone.
♪ ...bells, Jingle bells Jingle all the--
- That's it, there! - Oh!
- We made it! - Yay!
Not quite! Dash!
It runs off a steam **.
It's tracking something electronic!
We haven't got any elec-trickery!
Just wood and brass!
Oh, dear!
[BOTH] Your slipper!
We have lock.
We've got to get you down there, lad!
They'll see us! We'll be stopped!
- Give me that! - What are you doing?
It's Evie they're after.
She doesn't fit this world, Arthur.
She's a relic.
Evie?
I always knew she'd be needed one more time.
You go on.
- We'll let them have her. - You're coming, too?
You were right, Arthur.
It doesn't matter how Santa's gift gets there.
Doesn't even matter if it's Mr. Postman in his spaceship.
As long as it gets there.
You made it happen, lad.
No one got left out.
Get 'er off. Now, do as I say!
They're firing on us!
- A death ray, - made of chocolate and... - oranges.
Unidentified varnished object,
- turn back, or we will shoot. - Go!
Turn back.
Happy Christmas!
In Santa we believe!
Go on, elf. You, too.
Hi-ya!
Fire missiles.
This is it, old fella.
Maybe the next Santa never sat in my Evie,
but Arthur did,
and he's as good a man as any Santa there's ever been.
Goodbye, Evie.
Thank you, everyone.
You've just saved Christmas.
Aaaah!
Trelew.
Out with the old, in with the new.
Well done, dear.
Poor Arthur. He tried so hard.
- He's flunked again. - Of course he hasn't, dear.
We're here. The little girl will get her present.
I think he's done rather splendidly.
My Margaret...
Good morning, Gwen. Ho, ho, etc.
Apologies for the minor delay.
I'm sure that even a child
can understand that in an operation as complex as Christmas,
there's always an insignificant margin of error.
Which is you.
As a gesture, I've upgraded you to the
Glamafast Ultra X-3,
which retails at 9.99 more than your requested gift.
Bigger, ergo better.
If you'll mind just signing a legal waiver.
No lo entiendo, señor. (I don't understand, mister.)
Soy Pedro. (I'm Pedro.)
Pedro? A boy?
Quien es usted? (Who are you?)
A Spanish boy. This is an error.
Uh... No hablo español. (Uh... I don't speak Spanish.)
- [Pedro crying] - Will you...
No, no no. Please don't cry. No cry-o.
Papa!
It's over a mile!
We've got no sleigh, no reindeer,
and you can't even walk!
What are you doing?
I can cycle.
Hey! Come back!
What about the wrapping?!
Church! She lives by the church!
Happy Christmas comes!
Meltdown: 10 seconds.
What the...?
Look, everyone! It's Arthur!
He's delivering the present!
- It's Arthur! - Arthur!
Meltdown: Paused.
Come back!
Oh, my head.
Yeebobo, the beautiful young reindeer.
Ah. So, who am I, then?
Gah! Okay, so, I'm not great with children.
Does that make me a bad Santa?
You're hardly perfect. Let me guess:
You put in the address, you saw a list of Trelews,
and just clicked on the first one?
You're just like Arthur!
- Am I? - North Pole incoming.
Sir, the soldiers have shot the sleigh!
But, sir, it's Arthur.
He's still going.
[ALL] Arthur! Arthur! Arthur! Arthur! - Arthur?
No one gets an unwrapped present on my watch!
Three bits of sticky tape. Three!
- Stand up! - Oh.
Finger!
The church!
Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!
Right foot!
Left foot!
There it is!
One!
Hands up!
Aaahh! Whoa!
Whoa!
[All chanting]Arthur! Arthur! Arthur! Arthur! Arthur!
We're nearly there!
Front wheel!
- Two! - Yes!
That's it, there!
Back wheel!
- Ready? - Do it!
Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!
Here we go!
Waaaaaaahhhhh!!!!
Three!
- Elf down. - Bryony?
Go on, Arthur. Quick!
There's always time for a bow.
No... We can't be too late...
So unfair.
Ho! Ho! Ho, ho!
Merry Christmas!
[All singing] ♪ I'm dreaming of a white Christmas
All the Santas taking the missing present!
It's beautiful! Hug me! Hug me!
Ha, ha, ha!
Dad!
You came! I knew you would!
You wouldn't just go to bed and forget Gwen.
You're Santa!
- Give me that! - I'm Santa!
- I'm delivering it! - Don't be silly!
I'm Santa. Can't you see for me suit?
I am actually Santa,
- but I think it would be best to-- - I'm Santa!
You hand it over!
- You said I could drive! - I'm Santa, you naughty boys.
Here: Have a bon-bon.
Ssshhhh...
It's Christmas!
Please!
Gwen just has to have a present from Santa!
You do it, Arthur.
Mummy! Daddy! Wake up!
-There's a present! Come downstairs! - Ho, ho, ho. - Shh!
Merry... Christmas... everyone...
Dad! Wait!
Please! Its...
Oh. In all my years,
I never actually...
Always so busy...
Too busy...
I'm not good at...
In my day, a pat on the back, and a walnut, went a long way.
Mummy! Daddy! Come on!
Dad! I heard something downstairs!
I think it's under the tree!
Oh! What is it?
I can see pink!
- It's a bike! [Parents gasp]
[Gwen Squeals] Santa brought me the bike I wanted!
Oh, can I have a go? Please? Please? Please?
Steve, you deserve to be Santa.
But, Steve, I wonder...
if Gwen... is right.
Oh! Watch out! Beep, beep!
Careful! I'm going to bump into you!
I'll... be the candle, eh?
Ah. Whoopee.
You're better men than--
The both of you.
Oh! A bike, and...
Oh! A squirrel!
Ow!
Drop complete,
and we have a new Santa!
- Christmas accomplished. - Arthur!
- Arthur. - Commence decking halls.
You know, I've always liked Arthur.
You think he likes espresso?
[Squirrel squeaks] - Oh!
[Jimmy Durante's "Make Someone Happy" playing]
♪ It's so important to make someone happy
♪ Make just one someone happy
♪ Make just one heart the heart you...
♪ you sing to
♪ One... smile that cheers you
♪ One face that lights
♪ when it nears you
♪ One girl you're...
♪ you're everything to
♪ Fame
♪ if you win it
♪ Comes and goes
♪ in a minute
♪ Where's the real stuff in life
♪ to cling to?
♪ Love
♪ is the answer
♪ Someone to love is the answer
♪ Once you found her
♪ build your world around her
♪ Make
♪ someone happy
♪ Make just one someone happy
♪ and we'll be happy, too
And may 100% of your Christmases be white.
Subtitles done by youwish *** Please don't use without credit :) ***
♥♥ Happy Holidays!!! ♥♥