American Dad! (2005–…): Season 6, Episode 8 - For Whom the Sleigh Bell Tolls - full transcript
Stan and Steve accidentally shoot and kill Santa Claus, but he is brought back to life by his elves and is hell-bent on getting revenge against the entire Smith family.
♪ Good morning, USA! ♪
♪ I got a feeling that it's
gonna be a wonderful day ♪
♪ The sun in the sky
has a smile on his face ♪
♪ And he's shining a salute
to the American race ♪
♪ Oh, boy, it's swell to say ♪
♪ Good... ♪
♪ Good morning, USA ♪
Aah!
♪ American Dad 6x08 ♪
For Whom the Sleigh Bells Toll
Original Air Date on December 12, 2010
♪ ♪
Three days
till Christmas!
Mr. S., I have to mail
my letter to Santa.
I'm asking for an
authentic polar bear helmet
from the movie
Golden Compass.
You're a golden dumb-ass!
Dad, be nice
to Jeff.
He's just excited
about Christmas.
He's a grown man and he still
believes in Santa Claus.
Isn't it amazing?
To maintain that
childlike sense of wonder?
No, Hayley.
And I'm not getting that moron
a damn thing for Christmas.
Just because you married him
doesn't make him
a part of my family.
Actually, it does, Dad, and
you need to accept that.
Hayley, the only thing
I have to accept is that
socially I can't wear mascara
even though it makes my eyes
pop like firecrackers.
Look, I've got wooden clogs
to put around the tree.
I'm starting a new
Christmas tradition.
What was wrong with
our old traditions?
Like letting homeless people
smell our napkins
after Christmas dinner?
On The View, they said
we could try the Dutch custom
of putting presents
in wooden clogs.
Barbara Walters said it,
and she had an affair with
a married black senator.
So, you know, she doesn't drive
in the slow lane.
Well, I'm not gonna be able
to fit my present
for Steve in a shoe.
I'm getting him his first gun
this Christmas.
It's the perfect way
for us to bond.
A gun?
Can't you bond over
something else?
I've tried everything else--
darts, a Ping-Pong table,
that puppy.
The puppy!
Eh, it's probably too late.
Well, I'm sorry, but guns
are too dangerous for Steve.
Promise you won't get
him one for Christmas.
I promise I won't get Steve
a gun for Christmas.
Merry Wednesday, son!
A machine gun?
Mm, seems a bit dangerous
for me.
But I guess if coked-out
child soldiers
in the Congo can do it...
That's the spirit.
Hey, Mr. S., I'll go
shooting with you guys, too.
Jeff, I am trying to have
a bonding experience
with my son.
You are not my son.
You are no part of this family.
And when I open my eyes,
you better be gone, okay?
I don't want to see
a trace of you.
Terrible.
Pardon me, sir.
I'm what you might call
an advanced drinker,
and I've been having a Dickens
of a time concocting an eggnog
that provides the certain...
heady tingle that I require.
Well, normally, people put
bourbon in their eggnog.
I'm telling you,
I can't get drunk!
My apologies, sir.
I had to be sure
you were serious.
There is
legend of a...
There is legend of a
moonshiner who lives atop
the tallest peak
of the Chimdale Mountains.
They say he's blind,
standing nine feet tall,
with four arms and...
Excuse me, do you have
seasonal beers?
You're killing his story!
I can't
do anything right.
Atop that mountain, a
four-armed nine-foot blind man,
who also has the tongue
of a dragon,
makes the strongest whiskey
on Earth.
They say that if you're crazy,
it makes you sane.
And if you're sane,
you'll never believe
a word of this story.
I believe everything.
Then take this map.
It is my gift to you.
But just know that...
I'm all set with the beer,
but I've got a random question.
Do you sell watch batteries?
Get out.
Steve, shooting a gun is like
being intimate with a woman.
First, you inspect it
to make sure it's clean.
Then you grab it on the butt
and jam the magazine in.
If it doesn't fit, make it.
Almost shot my eye out!
Whoa, looks like
your mom was right.
This isn't safe.
Safety goggles.
Ooh, new target!
Snowman! Get him!
Oh, my God!
A mall Santa!
I-I didn't see him.
Is he...?
Dead?
Were you gonna ask
if he's dead?
I was gonna ask
if he's okay.
Oh, no. No, no, no.
No, no. No.
He-He is, he is dead.
He is not okay.
He will never be okay,
because he is-- say it with me--
dead.
You didn't say it with me.
Why did you have
to give me a gun?
I'll never pull another
trigger as long as I live!
Relax, Steve.
Part of gun ownership
is killing people by mistake.
What the hell
do we do now?
Well, we're gonna
keep things pretty simple.
Check the guy's fingerprints
on my CIA computer,
send an anonymous note
to his next of kin,
and make sure your mother
doesn't find out.
If she knew I gave you a gun,
she'd kill me.
Or maybe she'd get you
to do it, huh, killer?
No.
No, I'm kidding,
but you-you have killed someone.
Got to be
around here somewhere.
Excuse me.
Well, if it ain't
an alien in a wig.
What you say is true, sir.
And I seek a blind moonshiner
with four arms
who makes the strongest whiskey
known to man.
You found him, alien.
But you only
have two arms.
And it appears you can
see me quite well.
Take a drop of this here.
I call it shineapple.
Just a touch!
Do you believe me now?
Oh, my God.
It is you.
The name's Bob Todd.
Bob Todd Williams.
Robert Todford Williams.
Bobby Todd, if you like.
Todd Willy's fine, too.
Robert Todd and Bob Todford's
all the same.
If you holler "Mr. Williams,"
I won't know what to do with it!
I do however go by T-Dub
at the racetrack.
And all the ladies,
well, they call me Bert-Bert.
Bob Todd, my name is Roger.
And it would be an honor if
I could purchase your whiskey.
Purchase?
I got no use
for your green money.
What the hell am I
supposed to do with it?
Go shopping in a store?
Buy a record?
Guess I'll have to go
a different route.
Ain't no need
to prostrate yourself.
You want some of this whiskey,
I'll teach you how to make it.
Oh, my God,
thank you!
Oh, boy, you had me in the
palm of your hand there.
'Bout a second later,
that would've been
the other way around.
Okay, let's hide
this guy in the backyard
while I run his prints.
Damn it!
Just be casual,
follow my lead.
Hey, Francine,
you look amazing!
You look amazing,
Francine.
You're so
attractive.
Strange.
Our mall Santa's prints
aren't in the CIA's files.
Uh-oh.
Okay, here's what happened.
I killed him!
You were right, Mom,
I'm too young for a gun!
A boy shot
a man today!
A boy shot a man!
Steve killed somebody?
Have you called the police?
No need to.
Me and Steve can handle it.
Stan, you've done enough.
I will not have
this Christmas ruined.
Now, we're just gonna bury
that body deep in the woods
and never talk about it again.
We don't speak of this
to anyone.
I can't believe we're burying
this guy in the woods.
I can't believe you guys didn't
let me smash his teeth out
and cut off his hands.
What? You want to get away
with this or not?
Okay, I'm gonna teach you
how to make
this here whiskey
the way my pappy taught me.
Just know that my methods
are unusual.
I'm the opposite of them Jews
with the curlicue sideburns.
What-What do they call
them-them sideburn Jews?
Orthodox?
Right. I am unorthodox.
Now take you a full swig
and we'll get started.
You did it!
You kissed the raccoon.
You're a real moonshiner now,
you son of a bitch.
Go forth and brew my ancient
elixir with these sacred jugs.
I look forward to the
day we meet again,
you wise old cracker.
You are always
welcome here, budro.
You are my kin.
And I will let you
drive my Camaro
when I fix
the got-dang drive shaft.
What the hell?
Please tell me I'm not
the only one who
got a crazy letter.
I got one, too.
Did someone blab about
what happened in the woods?
No!
Uh-uh!
Breaking news.
It's the day before Christmas,
and many people are saying
it doesn't feel like
Christmas at all.
Let's go to Terry Bates.
Sir, if I asked what month
it felt like to you,
what would you say?
If I had to guess,
I'd say mid-October.
And what is your profession?
I make calendars.
With cats on them.
For lesbians.
Ooh, lesbians are
so hard to buy for.
Well, there you have it, Greg.
There's no feeling of
holiday spirit out here at all.
It's almost as if someone
has killed Santa Claus.
Oh, my God!
Did I?!
Of course not.
There's no such thing
as Santa Claus, Steve.
Oh, my God.
The body's gone!
"The Smiths have been naughty,
and that makes Santa not nice."
Oh, no.
It's true!
I killed Santa!
Santa's not dead, you fools!
He's in the North Pole,
recovering.
But he'll be back
to kill you all
before the sun rises
on Christmas Day.
Fly, Mimsy!
♪ ♪
What do we do?
If that elf is right,
Santa's going to kill us
in less than 12 hours.
Okay, look.
Maybe that wasn't a real elf.
Maybe it's just some midge
playing a trick.
We all know how mischievous
little people are.
Most of them don't have jobs,
which gives them plenty of time
to think of schemes.
I don't think that
was a little person, Stan.
Look at this!
Oh, my God.
I can't believe
I shot the real Santa.
I can't believe there
is a real Santa.
So that year I got
a vibrator from Santa,
that was really
from Santa?
Dad, we have
to get Jeff.
He's at the house.
He could be
in danger.
That's the first place
Santa will look for us.
Forget about Jeff.
It's just the four
of us now.
Make that five, numb nuts.
Roger?
Santer's after you, huh?
Y'all best
follow me, then.
I got a spot where
no one gonna find you.
Won't hear when I make you
squeal like a pig, neither.
What? Nothing.
Deliverance joke.
Poor Ned Beatty.
He can... he can play
Rudy's dad all he wants,
but when we look at him,
all we see
is him getting rammed
in the woods.
Santer's after
you, huh?
Mm-hmm.
I'd like to see that
fat testicle tickler
come down my chimney.
Would it be okay
if we hide out
in your house
for a while?
Hell, yeah.
It's Christmas Eve.
Shoot, let's go
sing a damn song.
Come on, y'all.
Relax.
I told you-- Santer's not
gonna get you up here.
It's totally safe,
and you look fantastic.
They're right.
Just because we're
being hunted like dogs
doesn't mean we can't
have a great Christmas.
Screw Santa.
Let's have some fun.
Here we go, y'all.
Come in after the
"diddle-diddles."
Two, three, four.
Oh, my God.
Who is that?
What is he doing here?
I called him.
I wanted to spend
Christmas with my husband.
I do not want him
in our band.
There's no instruments
for him to play.
Right, Bob Todd?
He can play the skin flute.
Oh.
Merry Christmas, all.
Damn it, Jeff.
Go turn off your van.
The radio's still on.
That's not
my radio, Mr. S.
My keys
are right here.
Then, what the hell
is that noise?
♪ ♪
I'm coming for you, Smiths!
Hyah!
How did he find us?
Oh. I wrote
him a letter
telling him where he can
deliver our presents.
He's trying to kill us,
you moron!
You gave away
our hiding spot!
Dad, stop it. He didn't know.
He doesn't know anything!
He's super dumb, Hayley.
Jeff, please leave
my family alone forever.
Will you do me that kindness?
Dad!
He understood.
It's a Christmas miracle.
Okay, we got a fight
on our hands, people.
I'm going to shoot that fat turd
in the belly.
I heard that, Bob Todd.
I hope you did,
you butt licker!
All right, Steve and I will
go outside with Bob Todd.
Francine, you and Hayley
lock the door behind us
and shoot from
the windows.
But-but, Dad, I swore
I'd never touch another gun
as long as I live.
The emotional burden
I've felt ever since...
Can it,
Growing Pains!
Pick up a gun
this instant
and send these
toy makers to hell!
Ooh. How's that feel, Linda?
Yeah!
You're doing it, son.
Is it weird
to have a boner?
It'd be weird
if you didn't.
Mom, can't you make
Dad be nicer to Jeff?
Oh, honey.
He'll come around,
eventually.
When? I've been with Jeff
for four years.
On your right.
I think he just has
to get used to the idea
of Jeff living
in the house.
Remember how hard it was
for him to get used to Roger?
Not to mention
what's-his-name.
My name is Klaus Heisler.
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
I'm out of ammo!
Damn it! Me, too.
We need more weapons.
How about...
what-what about these?
We can sharpen them with
our mouths and make swords.
Here. Just... just suck
it till it's pointy.
Wow. Hayley-- brand-new
respect for you.
Francine, give Hayley
your candy cane.
Shut up. I can do it.
Dad, there's
too many of them!
I want to help, Mr. S.
You want to help me?
Stand here and shield me
from arrows until you die.
Jeff Fischer!
Come and fight with me.
You're a good boy.
You don't have to die
with the Smiths.
I got you that polar bear helmet
from The Golden Compass
that you asked for.
Jeff, don't do this!
Let him go, Hayley.
I knew he wasn't Smith material.
Dad!
Season's bleedings.
Sorry about this, Santa.
Alex! Jeremiah!
Let me help you
there, Mr. S.
You guys hold them off.
I'll tend to Mr. S.
in the cockpit.
Even after all
I said, you...
you still
saved my life.
I didn't do it for you.
I did it for Hayley.
She's my wife,
and if you're important to her,
you're important to me.
Personally, I think
you're an ass.
Well, how about that?
There's too many of them!
Jeff, what do you say
we go out there and
die... as a family?
Damn.
We only had until Christmas Day.
Everyone,
back to the North Pole!
Retreat!
Retreat!
♪ ♪
Guess I can kiss
my presents good-bye.
You're damn right,
you jerk!
"You were lucky
this year, Smiths,
but I'll be back
next Christmas to kill you."
Oh, my God.
It looks like we found
our new Christmas tradition!
Does your family always have
such messed-up Christmases?
Yeah, Jeff.
And now you do, too.
This sucker tried to turn
into liquid energy on me,
but I wasn't having
none of that.
Ooh. That'll make
some nice venison.
Mm-hmm. I'm gonna cook y'all
a hell of a meal today.
Right after me
and this here reindeer
make sweet, tender love.
Merry Christmas, everybody!
Merry Christmas.
♪ I got a feeling that it's
gonna be a wonderful day ♪
♪ The sun in the sky
has a smile on his face ♪
♪ And he's shining a salute
to the American race ♪
♪ Oh, boy, it's swell to say ♪
♪ Good... ♪
♪ Good morning, USA ♪
Aah!
♪ American Dad 6x08 ♪
For Whom the Sleigh Bells Toll
Original Air Date on December 12, 2010
♪ ♪
Three days
till Christmas!
Mr. S., I have to mail
my letter to Santa.
I'm asking for an
authentic polar bear helmet
from the movie
Golden Compass.
You're a golden dumb-ass!
Dad, be nice
to Jeff.
He's just excited
about Christmas.
He's a grown man and he still
believes in Santa Claus.
Isn't it amazing?
To maintain that
childlike sense of wonder?
No, Hayley.
And I'm not getting that moron
a damn thing for Christmas.
Just because you married him
doesn't make him
a part of my family.
Actually, it does, Dad, and
you need to accept that.
Hayley, the only thing
I have to accept is that
socially I can't wear mascara
even though it makes my eyes
pop like firecrackers.
Look, I've got wooden clogs
to put around the tree.
I'm starting a new
Christmas tradition.
What was wrong with
our old traditions?
Like letting homeless people
smell our napkins
after Christmas dinner?
On The View, they said
we could try the Dutch custom
of putting presents
in wooden clogs.
Barbara Walters said it,
and she had an affair with
a married black senator.
So, you know, she doesn't drive
in the slow lane.
Well, I'm not gonna be able
to fit my present
for Steve in a shoe.
I'm getting him his first gun
this Christmas.
It's the perfect way
for us to bond.
A gun?
Can't you bond over
something else?
I've tried everything else--
darts, a Ping-Pong table,
that puppy.
The puppy!
Eh, it's probably too late.
Well, I'm sorry, but guns
are too dangerous for Steve.
Promise you won't get
him one for Christmas.
I promise I won't get Steve
a gun for Christmas.
Merry Wednesday, son!
A machine gun?
Mm, seems a bit dangerous
for me.
But I guess if coked-out
child soldiers
in the Congo can do it...
That's the spirit.
Hey, Mr. S., I'll go
shooting with you guys, too.
Jeff, I am trying to have
a bonding experience
with my son.
You are not my son.
You are no part of this family.
And when I open my eyes,
you better be gone, okay?
I don't want to see
a trace of you.
Terrible.
Pardon me, sir.
I'm what you might call
an advanced drinker,
and I've been having a Dickens
of a time concocting an eggnog
that provides the certain...
heady tingle that I require.
Well, normally, people put
bourbon in their eggnog.
I'm telling you,
I can't get drunk!
My apologies, sir.
I had to be sure
you were serious.
There is
legend of a...
There is legend of a
moonshiner who lives atop
the tallest peak
of the Chimdale Mountains.
They say he's blind,
standing nine feet tall,
with four arms and...
Excuse me, do you have
seasonal beers?
You're killing his story!
I can't
do anything right.
Atop that mountain, a
four-armed nine-foot blind man,
who also has the tongue
of a dragon,
makes the strongest whiskey
on Earth.
They say that if you're crazy,
it makes you sane.
And if you're sane,
you'll never believe
a word of this story.
I believe everything.
Then take this map.
It is my gift to you.
But just know that...
I'm all set with the beer,
but I've got a random question.
Do you sell watch batteries?
Get out.
Steve, shooting a gun is like
being intimate with a woman.
First, you inspect it
to make sure it's clean.
Then you grab it on the butt
and jam the magazine in.
If it doesn't fit, make it.
Almost shot my eye out!
Whoa, looks like
your mom was right.
This isn't safe.
Safety goggles.
Ooh, new target!
Snowman! Get him!
Oh, my God!
A mall Santa!
I-I didn't see him.
Is he...?
Dead?
Were you gonna ask
if he's dead?
I was gonna ask
if he's okay.
Oh, no. No, no, no.
No, no. No.
He-He is, he is dead.
He is not okay.
He will never be okay,
because he is-- say it with me--
dead.
You didn't say it with me.
Why did you have
to give me a gun?
I'll never pull another
trigger as long as I live!
Relax, Steve.
Part of gun ownership
is killing people by mistake.
What the hell
do we do now?
Well, we're gonna
keep things pretty simple.
Check the guy's fingerprints
on my CIA computer,
send an anonymous note
to his next of kin,
and make sure your mother
doesn't find out.
If she knew I gave you a gun,
she'd kill me.
Or maybe she'd get you
to do it, huh, killer?
No.
No, I'm kidding,
but you-you have killed someone.
Got to be
around here somewhere.
Excuse me.
Well, if it ain't
an alien in a wig.
What you say is true, sir.
And I seek a blind moonshiner
with four arms
who makes the strongest whiskey
known to man.
You found him, alien.
But you only
have two arms.
And it appears you can
see me quite well.
Take a drop of this here.
I call it shineapple.
Just a touch!
Do you believe me now?
Oh, my God.
It is you.
The name's Bob Todd.
Bob Todd Williams.
Robert Todford Williams.
Bobby Todd, if you like.
Todd Willy's fine, too.
Robert Todd and Bob Todford's
all the same.
If you holler "Mr. Williams,"
I won't know what to do with it!
I do however go by T-Dub
at the racetrack.
And all the ladies,
well, they call me Bert-Bert.
Bob Todd, my name is Roger.
And it would be an honor if
I could purchase your whiskey.
Purchase?
I got no use
for your green money.
What the hell am I
supposed to do with it?
Go shopping in a store?
Buy a record?
Guess I'll have to go
a different route.
Ain't no need
to prostrate yourself.
You want some of this whiskey,
I'll teach you how to make it.
Oh, my God,
thank you!
Oh, boy, you had me in the
palm of your hand there.
'Bout a second later,
that would've been
the other way around.
Okay, let's hide
this guy in the backyard
while I run his prints.
Damn it!
Just be casual,
follow my lead.
Hey, Francine,
you look amazing!
You look amazing,
Francine.
You're so
attractive.
Strange.
Our mall Santa's prints
aren't in the CIA's files.
Uh-oh.
Okay, here's what happened.
I killed him!
You were right, Mom,
I'm too young for a gun!
A boy shot
a man today!
A boy shot a man!
Steve killed somebody?
Have you called the police?
No need to.
Me and Steve can handle it.
Stan, you've done enough.
I will not have
this Christmas ruined.
Now, we're just gonna bury
that body deep in the woods
and never talk about it again.
We don't speak of this
to anyone.
I can't believe we're burying
this guy in the woods.
I can't believe you guys didn't
let me smash his teeth out
and cut off his hands.
What? You want to get away
with this or not?
Okay, I'm gonna teach you
how to make
this here whiskey
the way my pappy taught me.
Just know that my methods
are unusual.
I'm the opposite of them Jews
with the curlicue sideburns.
What-What do they call
them-them sideburn Jews?
Orthodox?
Right. I am unorthodox.
Now take you a full swig
and we'll get started.
You did it!
You kissed the raccoon.
You're a real moonshiner now,
you son of a bitch.
Go forth and brew my ancient
elixir with these sacred jugs.
I look forward to the
day we meet again,
you wise old cracker.
You are always
welcome here, budro.
You are my kin.
And I will let you
drive my Camaro
when I fix
the got-dang drive shaft.
What the hell?
Please tell me I'm not
the only one who
got a crazy letter.
I got one, too.
Did someone blab about
what happened in the woods?
No!
Uh-uh!
Breaking news.
It's the day before Christmas,
and many people are saying
it doesn't feel like
Christmas at all.
Let's go to Terry Bates.
Sir, if I asked what month
it felt like to you,
what would you say?
If I had to guess,
I'd say mid-October.
And what is your profession?
I make calendars.
With cats on them.
For lesbians.
Ooh, lesbians are
so hard to buy for.
Well, there you have it, Greg.
There's no feeling of
holiday spirit out here at all.
It's almost as if someone
has killed Santa Claus.
Oh, my God!
Did I?!
Of course not.
There's no such thing
as Santa Claus, Steve.
Oh, my God.
The body's gone!
"The Smiths have been naughty,
and that makes Santa not nice."
Oh, no.
It's true!
I killed Santa!
Santa's not dead, you fools!
He's in the North Pole,
recovering.
But he'll be back
to kill you all
before the sun rises
on Christmas Day.
Fly, Mimsy!
♪ ♪
What do we do?
If that elf is right,
Santa's going to kill us
in less than 12 hours.
Okay, look.
Maybe that wasn't a real elf.
Maybe it's just some midge
playing a trick.
We all know how mischievous
little people are.
Most of them don't have jobs,
which gives them plenty of time
to think of schemes.
I don't think that
was a little person, Stan.
Look at this!
Oh, my God.
I can't believe
I shot the real Santa.
I can't believe there
is a real Santa.
So that year I got
a vibrator from Santa,
that was really
from Santa?
Dad, we have
to get Jeff.
He's at the house.
He could be
in danger.
That's the first place
Santa will look for us.
Forget about Jeff.
It's just the four
of us now.
Make that five, numb nuts.
Roger?
Santer's after you, huh?
Y'all best
follow me, then.
I got a spot where
no one gonna find you.
Won't hear when I make you
squeal like a pig, neither.
What? Nothing.
Deliverance joke.
Poor Ned Beatty.
He can... he can play
Rudy's dad all he wants,
but when we look at him,
all we see
is him getting rammed
in the woods.
Santer's after
you, huh?
Mm-hmm.
I'd like to see that
fat testicle tickler
come down my chimney.
Would it be okay
if we hide out
in your house
for a while?
Hell, yeah.
It's Christmas Eve.
Shoot, let's go
sing a damn song.
Come on, y'all.
Relax.
I told you-- Santer's not
gonna get you up here.
It's totally safe,
and you look fantastic.
They're right.
Just because we're
being hunted like dogs
doesn't mean we can't
have a great Christmas.
Screw Santa.
Let's have some fun.
Here we go, y'all.
Come in after the
"diddle-diddles."
Two, three, four.
Oh, my God.
Who is that?
What is he doing here?
I called him.
I wanted to spend
Christmas with my husband.
I do not want him
in our band.
There's no instruments
for him to play.
Right, Bob Todd?
He can play the skin flute.
Oh.
Merry Christmas, all.
Damn it, Jeff.
Go turn off your van.
The radio's still on.
That's not
my radio, Mr. S.
My keys
are right here.
Then, what the hell
is that noise?
♪ ♪
I'm coming for you, Smiths!
Hyah!
How did he find us?
Oh. I wrote
him a letter
telling him where he can
deliver our presents.
He's trying to kill us,
you moron!
You gave away
our hiding spot!
Dad, stop it. He didn't know.
He doesn't know anything!
He's super dumb, Hayley.
Jeff, please leave
my family alone forever.
Will you do me that kindness?
Dad!
He understood.
It's a Christmas miracle.
Okay, we got a fight
on our hands, people.
I'm going to shoot that fat turd
in the belly.
I heard that, Bob Todd.
I hope you did,
you butt licker!
All right, Steve and I will
go outside with Bob Todd.
Francine, you and Hayley
lock the door behind us
and shoot from
the windows.
But-but, Dad, I swore
I'd never touch another gun
as long as I live.
The emotional burden
I've felt ever since...
Can it,
Growing Pains!
Pick up a gun
this instant
and send these
toy makers to hell!
Ooh. How's that feel, Linda?
Yeah!
You're doing it, son.
Is it weird
to have a boner?
It'd be weird
if you didn't.
Mom, can't you make
Dad be nicer to Jeff?
Oh, honey.
He'll come around,
eventually.
When? I've been with Jeff
for four years.
On your right.
I think he just has
to get used to the idea
of Jeff living
in the house.
Remember how hard it was
for him to get used to Roger?
Not to mention
what's-his-name.
My name is Klaus Heisler.
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
I'm out of ammo!
Damn it! Me, too.
We need more weapons.
How about...
what-what about these?
We can sharpen them with
our mouths and make swords.
Here. Just... just suck
it till it's pointy.
Wow. Hayley-- brand-new
respect for you.
Francine, give Hayley
your candy cane.
Shut up. I can do it.
Dad, there's
too many of them!
I want to help, Mr. S.
You want to help me?
Stand here and shield me
from arrows until you die.
Jeff Fischer!
Come and fight with me.
You're a good boy.
You don't have to die
with the Smiths.
I got you that polar bear helmet
from The Golden Compass
that you asked for.
Jeff, don't do this!
Let him go, Hayley.
I knew he wasn't Smith material.
Dad!
Season's bleedings.
Sorry about this, Santa.
Alex! Jeremiah!
Let me help you
there, Mr. S.
You guys hold them off.
I'll tend to Mr. S.
in the cockpit.
Even after all
I said, you...
you still
saved my life.
I didn't do it for you.
I did it for Hayley.
She's my wife,
and if you're important to her,
you're important to me.
Personally, I think
you're an ass.
Well, how about that?
There's too many of them!
Jeff, what do you say
we go out there and
die... as a family?
Damn.
We only had until Christmas Day.
Everyone,
back to the North Pole!
Retreat!
Retreat!
♪ ♪
Guess I can kiss
my presents good-bye.
You're damn right,
you jerk!
"You were lucky
this year, Smiths,
but I'll be back
next Christmas to kill you."
Oh, my God.
It looks like we found
our new Christmas tradition!
Does your family always have
such messed-up Christmases?
Yeah, Jeff.
And now you do, too.
This sucker tried to turn
into liquid energy on me,
but I wasn't having
none of that.
Ooh. That'll make
some nice venison.
Mm-hmm. I'm gonna cook y'all
a hell of a meal today.
Right after me
and this here reindeer
make sweet, tender love.
Merry Christmas, everybody!
Merry Christmas.