Bones (2005–2017): Season 3, Episode 9 - The Santa in the Slush - full transcript
Brennan and Booth investigate the death of a Santa as Bones tries to give her father the Christmas he's always dreamed of, and Booth comes to terms with not spending the holiday with Parker.
♪ You better watch
out You better not cry ♪
♪ You better not pout
I'm tellin' you why ♪
♪ Santa Claus is comin'... ♪♪
Oh, God. I can't deal with
any more kids poking at me.
At least you get the
kids. I get their dads.
Leches all want me
to sit on their laps.
I don't much care for the way
Santa is gawking at you either.
Don't do that. You're
too pretty to smoke.
Next you're gonna tell me it'll
stunt my growth. Be nice, now.
It's Christmas.
- What's that smell?
- What do you want? It's the back of a mall.
I have a very sensitive nose.
Don't walk. Why are you walking?
Let's just sit. It's
coming from over here.
There's something.
Probably old hot
dogs or a dead cat.
No, no, no. Don't touch. Let me.
Jail's not too bad.
I get meals with your brother. We
go out on these work details together.
You haven't asked me why
I'm strapped in these chains.
Well, you're in jail. No, I'm in dress
rehearsal for A Christmas Carol.
You're Jacob Marley?
I wanted to be Scrooge,
but some triple homicide in
Cell Block "H" got the part.
You don't want to know how.
What are you gonna
do for Christmas?
I'm doing what I always
do. I'm going on a trip.
New York? Peru. National
Geographic found a new step pyramid...
An ancient ceremonial
site known as "El Brujo."
1,500-year-old skeletons. Part of a
very mysterious culture called the Moche.
Well, unless they're elves, that's not
very Christmasy. No, they aren't elves.
You know what I'd like?
I'd like to spend another
Christmas with... with kids.
With a family. With a tree.
You're in jail, Dad.
So is Russ.
Mom's dead. Yeah. Yeah.
And Christmas is
overrated anyway.
People expect it to be
so perfect. It never is.
I'm really looking forward
to the skeletons in El Brujo.
Yeah, but Christmas and
skeletons do not go together.
I remember the Christmas...
you and Mom gave me the toolbox.
That was great.
Yeah, except that the
toolbox... was for Russ.
But you decided that it was
yours and... and he let you have it.
He did? Yeah.
I hope someday that, uh, we can
all have Christmas together again.
I doubt it, Dad. Well,
lie to me. I-I can pretend.
I've gotta go look
at a dead person.
Well, you never were good
at sugar-coating anything.
You got that "sad little
girl" look on your face...
after you've been with
your dad. No, I don't.
♪♪
He wishes we could spend
Christmas together with Russ.
Do it. They're both
in jail. It's impossible.
What are your plans?
I'm thinkin' about driving
the truck right off the bridge.
I'm being melodramatic and
self-pitying. You love Christmas.
I love it, you know,
when I have Parker,
but this year he's going
skiing in Vermont...
with Rebecca and
Captain Fantastic.
Who's Captain Fantastic?
Aw, it's her boyfriend.
Commands a Coast Guard cutter.
His last name isn't
literally Fantastic, is it?
Might as well be.
You know, they have a trailer at
the jail. Mostly for conjugal visits.
Captain Fantastic is
in jail? No. Your dad.
You could give him what he wants
for Christmas. Pull a few strings.
I'm not a string puller. I've
seen you pull some strings.
My father is a murderer and a
thief. Well, murderers and thieves...
They get Christmas too. In
fact, that's kind of the point.
Well, I have other plans.
Well, whatever they are,
skeletons and Christmas do not mix.
That's exactly
what my father said.
Where are we going? Early
Christmas present for you, Bones.
Dead guy in a sewer.
It's cold enough as it is.
Let's get this done here.
Great.
Had to be Santa.
You'd think someone who could squeeze up
and down chimneys would find a sewer a snap.
Rats got to him.
The huge bacterial count,
unseasonably warm weather...
Explains why the rats
found him so digestible.
He was washed down
through the sewer system.
I mean, look at all the
stuff that's around him.
Uphill is that way.
Busiest shopping district during
the busiest shopping season.
- Maybe he worked up there.
- Or he was pushed out
of a low-flying sleigh.
Cynicism from you at Christmas?
What happened? Nothing.
Rebecca's taking Parker
to Vermont for the holidays.
- That sucks majorly.
- It does suck majorly,
so what do you say...
- we just get back
to our dead Santa here?
- It's not Santa, Booth.
- He's a dead man in a costume.
- Well, the beard looks real. And he's pretty fat.
- Which doesn't make him Santa.
- Well, let's not
jump to conclusions.
Aw, three days before Christmas
and somebody kills Santa. Hmm.
We'll send his gloves
to the F.B.I. crime lab,
see if they can get any
fingerprints from the inside.
Damage here on the
left side of the skull...
suggests a strong blow
to the left temporal bone.
So Santa was definitely murdered.
Someone did not like their present.
There is copious insect
activity from the sewer.
I'm intrigued that the Santa myth
survives so far into modern times.
Children, Dr. Addy.
It's for children.
These duds are not department
store issue. That is real ermine.
- It's a hand-tailored suit.
- Which I'd like
to get off of him...
after you two finish
your scraping and...
Not that that isn't all
very, very important.
What Santa is supposed
to do is clearly impossible.
He keeps a list. Checks it
twice. What's the big deal?
If you take into account
all believers of the myth,
factor in time zones,
rotation of the Earth,
and assume Santa travels east
to west, he would have to make...
approximately 822.6 visits
per second to reach every child.
So Santa parks his sleigh,
unloads presents, fills stockings,
eats snacks, gets
back into his sleigh...
and on to the next house in
about 1/1,000th of a second?
Children have to be
stupid to accept that.
Okay, first of all, children are
not stupid. They're just children.
Second, Santa is magic.
Let's identify the
victim, shall we?
There's an ellipsoid aperture
in the mandibular left canine...
and first premolar
consistent with pipe smoking.
Mmm?
Plus traces of
residue on the canine.
Could this be clay?
Santa is often portrayed
smoking a clay pipe.
All right, all right. Very
funny, boys. Come on.
Where's your holiday spirit?
Based on the degree of
bloating and purged fluids,
I'd estimate time of death
between 72 and 96 hours ago.
Check the sewer sludge and
bugs. Get me confirmation.
Phorid fly maggots,
third instar.
And they appear to have
been well fed as well.
Santa was around some other
food source before he died.
- My bet's on milk and cookies.
- This is not
Miracle on 34th Street.
We're not saying this
is actually Santa Claus.
We're merely
anatomizing the evidence.
Okay. It's still rough, but...
this might help.
Dad wants to spend
Christmas with the family.
So how are you gonna arrange
it... bust me and Dad out?
There are trailers
for conjugal visits.
You might be able
to use one of those.
And I talked to Amy,
and she said she could
bring the girls down to see you.
You shouldn't have done that.
Amy said the girls have
been asking about you.
I lied to them, Tempe. The
girls don't even know I'm in here.
They think I went
overseas to work.
You're deserting
them, just like Dad.
You think it would be
better for them to find out...
that the guy they think is so
wonderful is actually a criminal?
When I found out Dad
was not dead, I was happy,
- even though it turned out
that he was...
- A murderer.
You are not a murderer, Russ.
It doesn't sound like a good
Christmas present to me.
- You could explain it...
- No! Tempe,
it's not gonna happen.
Can't you sleep
on your own couch?
Just waiting for the squints
to find out something.
How'd it go with Russ?
He says he doesn't
want the girls to come.
Your dad... He wants the
whole Christmas package.
You know, the tree, the kids,
the presents... the whole shebang.
Well, the whole
shebang is impossible.
Christmas is about making
the impossible happen.
You mean like you spending Christmas
with Parker? Okay. You know what?
That hurt.
Wake me up when the squint
squad finds out something.
Victim appears to have odd-shaped
remodeling on his sacrum...
with a sclerotic margin
around the injury.
Some kind of old injury?
Yeah. Two small
indentations here...
consistent with
trauma from impact...
with some sort of cloven hoof.
Cloven... like a reindeer?
Oh, thank God you're here.
This is so wasted on me alone.
Evidence is evidence whether
anyone is there to hear it or not.
- Our victim
was kicked by a reindeer.
- Oh, get the hell outta here.
- The sacrum.
- Wait, wait.
The evidence actually
adds up to an old fat man...
with a white beard, in a custom-made
Santa suit, who smoked a clay pipe...
and got kicked in
the ass by a reindeer?
F.B.I. lab got partial prints off the
gloves, and AFIS found a possible match.
Apparently our victim
worked for the school board.
As a teacher? No.
- He was a Santa Claus.
- A Santa Claus?
Or the Santa Claus?
- Check out his name.
- Kristopher Kringle.
According to AFIS,
it's his legal name.
Well, there's the old Dutch
Sinterklaas... Watch out!
Well, I'm looking. You're
gonna get hit by a car.
He had a partner
named Black Peter...
who carried a whip to
beat naughty children.
Myths are traditionally
used to control behavior.
For instance, the story of Moses
bringing the Ten Commandments.
Wait. You're equating
Moses to Santa?
Well, Santa's usually
considered more jolly. Okay, great.
At least I think he is. We're
looking for 223 Hudson.
I'm sorry you can't
be with Parker, Booth.
What are you gonna do, right? You
just gotta face the facts sometimes.
But she shouldn't take
him away. Not at Christmas.
Not the way he feels about you.
Oh, my God. What?
He lives in a toy store.
Oh.
Watch out for reindeer.
Yeah. Really funny.
♪ Have a holly jolly Christmas ♪
- ♪ It's the best time
of the year ♪
- Wow.
Parker would love this place.
Look at this! Gingerbread.
It's got the train.
♪ Holly, jolly
Christmas ♪ Look at this.
♪ And when you
walk down the street ♪
Booth? Yeah?
This might explain the
reindeer kick to Kringle's sacrum.
♪ The mistletoe hung
where you can see ♪
♪ Somebody waits for you ♪
You gotta be kidding me.
Bones, look at this. Wow.
This guy was committed.
Or should've been.
♪ Oh, by golly have a
holly jolly Christmas ♪
♪ This year ♪♪
♪♪
Hey, Bones. Check this out.
Hidden compartment.
Looks like Santa was
planning on buying a lot of toys.
Kris rented this place
from me for six years.
Do you know where
he lived before that?
Oh, actually, Bones, that
wasn't my first question.
He wrote his previous
address on the lease.
"North Pole." Aw,
come on with that.
See? It turned out
to be a good question.
You actually accepted that
address? Are you kidding?
How many guys want to live
above a toy store? It's noisy.
And Kris gave me first and
last month up front in cash.
Kris Kringle from the North
Pole lives above a toy store...
This is further evidence
that our victim...
is indeed the mythic figure
known as Santa Claus.
Mythic! Coming from the Latin
"myth," meaning doesn't actually exist.
No. From the Greek
"mythos," meaning "word."
He does not... It
says here that he...
What can you tell us about
Mr. Kringle's personal finances?
- Like I said,
he always paid cash.
- Where did he work?
An employment agency called Temp
Time, on Seventh by the convention center.
Ha! Couldn't have been Santa.
Why? Because Santa wouldn't
have worked at a temp agency!
Well, why not? His work is
seasonal. Because he would...
Kringle pay his rent
on time? Always.
- At least until
the last couple of months.
- Really?
'Cause you know what?
Obviously he wasn't short on funds...
with all the money we found in the
secret compartment of his drawer.
Son of a bitch. 1,200
bucks of that is mine.
All of this is
rumpled small bills.
Except for these...
Eight $50 bills.
Brand new, with
sequential serial numbers.
- I don't know
about any of this.
- Wait, whoa, whoa.
Did you guys have some
kind of a disagreement?
- Is that why he was
holding out on you?
- No. No.
No.
Maybe.
Kris gave me some ideas on
a toy which I patented and...
- It sold?
- Somebody took a picture
of TomKat's kid with it.
- So it sort of took off.
- Wow.
Kringle could've sued you
for a chunk of that cash.
- He never actually told me
he wanted a cut.
- Uh-huh.
Maybe he just
stopped paying his rent.
Thinking of Parker? No.
Thinking about your dad? No.
Russ.
Well, you can't blame him for not
wanting those girls to know the truth.
He's living a lie.
You'd never do that.
Well, not never. I
mean, I-I lie to Parker.
Especially this time
of year. What about?
I tell him that Santa's
coming. Really?
It's Santa Claus! The Santa
myth is based on blackmail...
"Be good, or you
won't get any presents."
No. It's not a "lie"
lie, Bones. It's...
It's more like
everybody agreeing...
that up to a certain age, kids
deserve to live a different kind of truth.
Okay, by that reasoning, what
we should do is figure out a lie...
Russ could tell the girls so
they wouldn't know he's in jail.
That is a brilliant
Christmas idea.
It was intended to be a
scathing and incisive comment.
Give Russ civvies.
The girls think he's flown in specially
to visit his father in jail at Christmas.
Where would he say he's been?
Building a bridge
in... Addis... Ababa.
Addis Ababa is the
landlocked capital of Ethiopia.
Fine, Bones. You know what?
Just make up your own lie.
I don't believe in
lying to children.
You just want to go to
Peru without feeling guilty.
You need to accept that you
won't have Parker this Christmas.
I am not enjoying this
holiday season at all.
Yeah? Well, neither am I.
The shadow on the X-ray is a slight
depression of the outer endocranial table.
The fracture's levered inward.
There are no signs of remodeling.
This localized staining...
suggests that his superficial
temporal artery was punctured.
Very likely the cause of death.
So Santa was conked on the
head. Question is, with what?
I'll run it under the scanning
electron microscope.
So what are you
doing for Christmas?
Going home to Michigan.
What about you?
Family cruise.
Sounds nice. You'd think so.
Let me know what you find.
- Kris is dead?
- Afraid so.
Man. I had a bad feeling
something was wrong.
I mean, it's not like
Kris to miss work,
especially not
this time of year.
- I called him a hundred times.
- Twelve. Twelve times.
We listened to his
answering machine.
- You know, there are
a lot of Santas here.
- But Kris was my numero uno.
I mean, all the
guys knew that here.
In fact, if it wasn't for him, I never would've
thought about getting into the Santa business.
Christmas is not gonna be
the same without Kris Kringle.
Anthropologically, what exactly would
it mean to be numero uno Santa Claus?
Well, Kris got the best gigs.
Any of the other
Santas, they get jealous?
Jealous enough to kill? Come on.
Is this about Kris? Did
something happen to him?
Who are you? I'm Jeff Mantell.
- What happened to Kris?
- Kris was murdered.
Everybody.
The dead Santa on
the news... It was Kris.
- Oh, no.
- Not Kris. Oh, no.
What can you tell me about Kris?
Kris made a guy proud to
wear the uniform. Sure did.
- That's the truth.
- Was Kris murdered?
Um, all the Santas just
need to take a step back.
Any help you need,
guys. Anything at all.
- Why are you limping?
- Oh, my shins. You want to see them?
No. Why would I
want to see your shins?
Children get to a certain age and they think
it's hilarious to kick Santa in the shins.
That's... I, uh...
All right. I'd like to talk to
anyone who knew Kris personally.
No, I only met Kris at the
diner a couple of weeks ago.
Okay. Whoever smells like the wet
sweater really needs to take a step back.
I was out of work, late
on my alimony. Ooh.
The man saved me.
He got me this job.
Sad but familiar tale with Kris.
- Typical Kris. Always looking to help out.
- He was a saint.
- Anybody know of any trouble?
- Or arguments?
- Differences of opinion?
- I can't even imagine that.
No. The man was
truly, sincerely... jolly.
We couldn't find a
record of his bank account.
Oh. Well, I-I cashed
Kris's checks.
What would Mr. Kringle do
during the three other seasons?
Well, Kris was my only
full-time temp Santa.
You know, sometimes for the odd
ad campaigns who needed a Santa...
Car dealerships,
ice cream parlors.
Sometimes hospitals
had "Christmas in July."
Ironically, the only night Kris
wouldn't work was Christmas Eve.
- His special night.
- His night to deliver toys
and goodies around the world.
We'd always tease
him about that.
He never denied it.
The maggots in dead Santa's
collar fed on high concentrations...
of non-sulfated chondroitin,
glycosaminoglycans and N-Acetylneuraminic acid.
This is why Booth
hates talking to you.
It's the regurgitated saliva of
male Aerodramus fuciphagus.
Wait. Booth hates talking to me?
Not you specifically. Lab people.
What's Aerodramus fuciphagus?
The main ingredient
in bird's nest soup.
It's a rare Chinese delicacy
made from the nests of swiftlets.
It's more like bird spit
soup if you ask me.
So our victim was in China?
I'm thinking Chinatown
is more likely.
But I also found
similar traces...
of the same stuff on the
back of Santa's pants.
Mostly on the rear end.
He sat in it? Yeah. Let's
hope that's how it got there.
How common is this dish?
A single kilogram of white
swiftlet nest costs two grand.
Let's see who makes it
here in D.C. Done and done.
These people all seemed pretty
upset to have lost one of their own.
I mean, they keep referring to
the uniform like soldiers or cops.
According to Hodgins, Kris
Kringle was probably killed...
in or near a restaurant called
Kum Jung Huen, up in Chinatown.
Come on. How did he figure that
out? Do you really want to know?
You tell me. No, you don't.
I'm gonna trust you on
that. If you don't mind,
I have a meeting with Caroline
Julian at your office in 10 minutes.
This about the trailer
for your dad's Christmas?
You think she'll help?
Well, Caroline's a lawyer.
She'll help, but she'll ask
you to do something in return.
That's fair. Yeah.
Hold that thought.
I thought you were going
to Brazil for Christmas.
Peru. Whatever.
South of the equator, doing
bone things with bone people.
I checked with the
people at the jail,
and for my father to
get the conjugal trailer,
the prosecutor in
charge of his case...
has to submit a written
recommendation.
Uh-huh.
You're the prosecutor
in charge of his case.
I'm aware of that.
Thank you, Dr. Brennan.
Mmm! Mmm!
So will you? You
going to Brazil and all,
what's the use of Max being in
that conjugal trailer all by himself?
Well, I'm trying to
persuade my brother...
to celebrate Christmas
with his family in there too.
A yuletide gathering of the
Brennan criminal element.
What do you mean "trying"?
Russ doesn't want his
step-daughters to know that he's in jail.
How do you persuade them otherwise if they're
actually having Christmas in the jail?
One other thing. The warden
says no Christmas tree.
That's right. Three years ago,
somebody made a shiv out of the star.
Now no trees or
ornaments of any kind.
Isn't that a little dreary?
Hey, don't kill people.
Don't get sent to prison.
Have a Christmas pageant
in your own home every year.
So will you?
Mmm. I will.
You will? Thank you.
On one condition.
Booth said you'd say that.
Did he say I'd ask
you to kiss him?
No.
Well, are you? No cheeks,
no noses. Right on the lips.
What? People kiss
people on the nose?
I want you to kiss him
under some mistletoe.
Kiss Booth?
That's right, chérie. Why?
Because it will amuse me.
Why? Because you're all...
"Dr. Brennan" and "Special
Agent Seeley Booth,"
and it's Christmas, and I have a
puckish side that will not be denied.
Puckish? What's the matter?
You don't think I
can be puckish?
Well, I never thought
about it until now.
You want me to
write that letter,
you kiss Booth on the
lips for no less than...
One steamboat, two
steamboats... Five steamboats.
That's blackmail.
That's correct.
That's unethical. That's
the deal. Take it or leave it.
What about a tree? No
Christmas tree. No way.
Not even if you
squeeze his buttocks.
Well...
I don't know. Couldn't I just
take you out to dinner sometime?
You kiss Seeley
Booth on the lips,
and I'll make sure your daddy
has his dream Christmas.
No tree, mind you, but otherwise, as
good as an accused murderer can expect.
Mmm.
Look, you ever seen
this man before?
Santa Claus? No. This
isn't actually Santa Claus.
The guy that's wearing the
Santa outfit in this picture...
Have you ever seen him?
Can I see your
I.D. again, please?
Booth! What?
Your kid like roaches?
Gromphadorhina, man. Hissing roach.
Hey, grab me this container.
This is a great pet, man.
Perfect Christmas gift. Uh, no. Did
you find the bird's nest maggots yet?
Not yet. I'm still looking.
Okay, I'm calling the cops.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, pal.
Hey, I am the cops, all right?
Any, uh, fights out here...
back in the alley in
the past four days? No.
I don't come out here
since I quit smoking.
It stinks. The cycle
of life, my friend.
It's quite beautiful if
you get into it. Is it?
Okay, you can go back inside,
but tell the rest of your staff...
I'll be in in a few minutes
to ask them some questions.
Hey, pal.
You better hope I don't report
this to the Health Department.
Pay dirt.
Fannia, Musca and Phoridae.
Yeah, these are the exact
maggots I found on Kringle's suit.
Mmm. It means this
is where he was killed.
So if he was killed here,
then he was probably,
uh, dragged over here...
to this grate,
and dumped down this sewer.
An ignominious end for
Father Christmas, huh?
Whoa! Whoa, what?
Phew! They were near the bottom.
No cash. Just I.D'.s and credit.
Probably dumped
there by pickpockets.
Hey, you found cash in
Kringle's apartment, right?
- Right.
- Maybe he picked
one pocket too many.
Mm-hmm. Well, we're gonna find
out the owners of these wallets...
and see if they know
any Santa pickpockets.
Booth? Yeah?
- Can you help me out of here?
- See you later.
Booth!
Booth. Oh, come...
Vermont is gonna
be great, buddy.
Snowboarding, just like
when we went to Liberty.
Mom says better than Liberty.
Well, she's right.
Can't you come?
- Parker...
- If you tell Mom
that I don't want to go,
then we could spend Christmas
together like we always do.
It's not gonna happen
this year, buddy.
When you get back,
me and you will have our own
Christmas, just the two of us.
Without Captain Fantastic.
You know, we shouldn't call
Brent Captain Fantastic anymore.
Why? You do. Well,
I won't anymore.
But it's funny. No,
it's disrespectful.
And if your mom likes someone, then
we should respect that and like them too.
- Is that true?
- You like Brent?
Yeah, I do. Wow.
- Bones!
- Are you gonna be
all alone at Christmas?
Me? Nah. I'm not gonna be alone.
I'll be with Bones
and all of our friends.
- I'm going to Peru.
- See? We're all going to Peru.
- You're having Christmas
in Africa?
- No. Actually, Peru is...
Is Africa. Isn't
that right, Bones?
Okay? I'm gonna be
just fine. So come on.
Go wash up before your mom
gets here to pick you up. All right?
Come here, buddy. I love you.
I love you too, buddy.
Go ahead. Okay.
You lied a lot to him.
That's the magic of
Christmas, Bones.
So, you want to tell
me what happened?
I'd just come out of the check cashing place
and I was off to do some Christmas shopping.
When you were mugged
by Santa? Not mugged.
It was just a bump as I
was walking out of the place.
I said, "Excuse
me." He ho, ho, ho'd.
- We went our separate ways.
- When did you realize
your wallet was missing?
An hour later at the Price Co.
I'm in the checkout line. I'm
going to pay, and it's gone.
Naturally you went back the next
day and you beat the crap out of him.
I asked for my wallet back.
Santa plays all dumb, and then it
got physical. It was 900 bucks, man.
Mr. Moussa, there are hundreds of
Santas in the D.C. area this time of year.
Come on. You and I are
trained law enforcement officers.
I got the right guy. If it was him,
he definitely deserved a beating.
It was him. And he got off
lucky because of my self-control.
This guy, he ruined Christmas.
Egyptians, they
celebrate Christmas?
I am not Muslim, Agent
Booth. I am Coptic.
Me, my wife, my children...
We all celebrate Christmas.
Except for maybe not this year
because this guy took my money.
And what'd you do to him?
I hit him.
I'm not proud of that.
No pushing? No tussling?
Just popped him once
in the shnoz. That's it.
You didn't roll
around in the alley?
What alley? We were
in front of a big-box store.
So you didn't mean to kill him? You
just shoved him down that manhole?
I knocked him down. The
people... They don't know why.
They don't understand.
They're looking.
Maybe they think I'm a
terrorist, so I get out of there.
Hmm. Right.
Do I need a lawyer?
Bones, Pay Fast Check Cashing
confirms cashing Moussa's paycheck.
Teller gave him 900
bucks... All crisp new 50s.
And Kringle had new
50s in his dresser. Yep.
- And the serial numbers match.
- Suggesting Kringle
is our pickpocket.
Mm-hmm. So we're getting a
warrant to analyze Moussa's clothing.
If there's any bird soup goop
on him, we'll know he's our killer.
What is with the mistletoe?
I was going to talk
to you about this.
Caroline wants us to kiss
under the mistletoe. What?
It's the only way she'll
make Christmas for my family.
- What? By having us kiss?
- Yes.
- Why?
- Because she's feeling puckish.
- Puckish? What's that mean?
- She's gonna be here any second. Do you want some gum?
No. My breath is just fine.
Look, I'll have a talk with Caroline.
No. No?
I'm only telling you out
of professional courtesy.
What? So that you
won't be surprised.
Yeah, when you say "kiss," you mean,
like, kiss-kiss, like on both cheeks?
No, the lips.
Like brother and
sister, colleagues.
French people meeting on the
street. Caroline's feeling puckish, huh?
It means playful and
impish. Congratulations.
I hear you have a suspect
in the Santa slaying.
Yeah. Well, it looks like the Easter
Bunny has nothing to worry about.
Did you talk to the
judge about the trailer?
Yes, I did. What about your end?
Well, look at that.
Mistletoe. You take a
step to your right... But...
You'll be right under
the cute little sprig.
Uh... I...
Was that enough steamboats?
Plenty. A whole flotilla.
I don't know what
that means, but, um,
merry Christmas.
It was like kissing my brother.
- You sure must like
your brother.
- She does.
- I do.
- She does.
The trailer is all arranged.
You're good to go,
chérie. Merry Christmas.
I'm sure she feels
really foolish right now.
Yeah.
Well, hey, I-I, uh...
I really should...
I should get back and see
if, uh, the forensic guy...
has got anything yet...
on Moussa's... It's
a good idea. Yeah.
I've got stuff to do too. Yeah.
Yeah. That... For... With bones.
I-I understand completely.
Oh. Thanks for the gum.
What are you doing? Hi.
Some metallic flakes
embedded in the bone.
I'm trying to help Zack determine
what kind of weapon was used.
You know, this is our
first Christmas as a couple.
Aw. Too bad Santa's dead.
I thought that we could make
Christmas decorations for our tree.
Is that too corny? It's what
my family did when I was little.
Mmm. And I always
thought, you know,
when I had my own family,
that I'd carry on the tradition.
Are two people a family? Isn't
that how every family starts?
Then I think us making
decorations is just corny enough.
I don't understand.
Has there been
some kind of crisis?
Yes. I have a crisis.
Bones, it was just mistletoe.
- Not the kiss. That was nothing.
- You kissed?
- Mistletoe.
- That's not the crisis.
- Was there tongue?
- All right. You know what?
Get your own sex life. That
has nothing to do with sex.
Nothing. No.
There was no s... It was
mistletoe. Totally sexless.
I'm all ears.
Just take your hat off there.
Booth... who is a
very honest person...
Says that at this time of
year, deception is necessary...
for the happiness of little
children. No, I'm being misquoted.
- Booth is absolutely right.
- She got the gist.
Yeah, there's a fictional
element to Christmas.
You mean the whole
"birth of a savior" rigmarole?
It is not rigmarole.
How do you know?
No, no. Dr. Brennan, it's-it's
the, uh, the feeling of Christmas.
What people call
the Christmas spirit.
It's a kind of dream or hope that
we carry with us from childhood.
- But as adults...
- Are you including you in that?
As adults, we're imbued by
the pragmatic routines of life,
which makes it difficult for us to
regard anything with childlike wonder.
But you know, it's
all right for us to try.
We put on silly hats and
drape trees with sparkly lights,
and wrap gifts in garish
paper, and that's good for us.
It's not only all right to allow
children the transient experience...
of innocence and joy,
it's our responsibility.
Okay. Okay?
I found that very helpful.
What do you think I've been
saying for the past four days?
You're gonna help
me lie to the girls?
Well, apparently, it's not
morally wrong to lie at Christmas.
What if they know I'm lying? Well,
apparently, sometimes lying is a kind of gift.
I'm hazy on the rules, but the idea
is, even if they know you're lying,
they know you're doing it out of
love. Where are you getting this?
Because I'm in jail and
I'm getting better advice.
Look, Russ, we have a plan. I
bring you some civilian clothes.
The girls think you popped
in from Addis Ababa...
Addis Ababa? Well, what
did you and Amy tell them?
We said I went to Burma. Burma?
Who cares where we chose?
Burma's on the other side of the world.
Russ, Burma doesn't
even exist anymore.
What happened to it?
Well, it became Myanmar.
There's another
problem with the trailer.
No Christmas tree. Why?
Shank material. Is it important?
Christmas with no tree?
It's a disaster. Forget it.
They're young, Russ.
They believe in Santa Claus.
They believe in you
because you love them.
And they'll sit on your lap,
and they'll open their presents.
And they'll believe
in you and Burma,
and-and maybe they won't
notice that there's no tree.
Look, Amy will be there. Dad
will be there. The girls will be there.
And you? I was going to.
But we're not the only
people getting the trailer.
And I thought it would be in the
afternoon, but now it's Christmas Eve.
And I've gotta be on that plane.
To Peru? Yeah.
Tempe, Dad wants us all.
I mean, you're one of us.
You found what
killed Kris Kringle?
- We know what it was made of.
- And we know the shape.
Something
crescent-shaped and brass.
I couldn't find
anything this shape,
but by making a slight paradigm
shift... Paradigm shift is my idea.
And slightly change the angle...
A circle, not a crescent.
I believe the mark left on Kris
Kringle's skull was the result...
of being struck with a circular object
approximately 15 centimeters in diameter.
- Six inches.
- A bell. A brass bell.
Meaning he was probably
attacked by another Santa.
Everybody have your bells?
All right! All right!
Enough! Stop!
You can tell the
elves they can go now.
Elves, go for coffee.
See you later. What's the
use of bells without Santa?
- Those bells are all the same.
- Yeah. I buy 'em in bulk.
- I sell them to the Santas
for cost.
- Was that Kris's idea?
Yeah. How did you know?
Just getting a feel for the guy.
Listen. We have a warrant
here to inspect your bells.
- Inspect our what?
- Bells, Larry.
- Uh, why?
- Agent Booth and I are gonna
swab each of your bells...
with a cotton ball soaked
in phenolphthaleine.
- Is it gonna sting?
- Bells, Larry. She said bells.
- You need a hearing aid, Larry.
- Why are you "antisepticising"
our bells?
- Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho.
- Steady there, Santa.
Why do you need a
warrant to disinfect a bell?
- What's the matter there, Santa?
- They're looking for something,
and they're not telling us!
Look, I read the
warrant. It's the law.
- Just give him the bell
so we can go.
- Jeff, just show 'em your bell.
- Just give us your bell.
- No.
I'm not gonna see my
son for Christmas this year,
so I'm a little annoyed with Christmas
and everything that comes along with it.
- So give the lady the bell.
- Give 'em a break.
Give her the bell.
Come on. Go ahead.
Thank you.
The brass plating
on this bell is chipped.
Ho, ho. Look at that.
What does that mean? Okay,
Santa, you're under arrest for murder.
- What?
- This bell is the weapon
that killed Kris Kringle.
No. No, no, no!
I didn't kill Kris.
Come on, guys. We
switch bells all the time.
- Now, that's true.
- All of our bells
are identical, you know?
We put one down, and
then we just pick up another.
Okay. Just hold on to your bells
there for a second. Any ideas?
No. Come on, think,
Bones. Paint the picture.
It's gotta be one of these guys. Half
of these guys owe Kringle the money.
One of them's a pickpocket. Ah.
Gets the money from the Egyptian.
Look, could we go?
Cool your jets, Santa.
- Go have a cookie and some eggnog.
- - Hey.
Kringle gets suspicious, he
catches the "pickpocketer"...
dumping the wallet in the
Dumpster, confronts him...
We have to sniff their
behinds. We have to sniff...
You lost me there. All right,
everybody up against the wall!
Or, okay, put your
hands on the table.
First of all, that's my job. And
second... Why? They fought.
They rolled around through
the bird's nest soup goop.
Right. Good thinking. Yeah.
That's good... except for
the "sniffing their butts" thing.
Okay, you start over
there. I'll start here.
Wait, wait, wait, wait.
You're gonna sniff my guys?
Geez! All right, this is officially
the worst Christmas ever.
I don't know.
Don't you need
a warrant for this?
Hey, pal. Why don't you
just be quiet? Turn around.
Yeah. Come on.
- Bird's nest soup.
- It's Jeff! He killed Kris.
- Are you gonna pull them off?
- Fine. Watch this.
Hey! How you
like it now, Santas?
Get off of him! Everybody off!
On your feet. You're
under arrest. Let's go.
The man is a
disgrace to his uniform.
♪ You better watch out ♪
You better not cry ♪
♪ You better not pout
I'm telling you why ♪
♪ Santa Claus is
coming to town ♪♪
♪ Big fat Santa's on his way ♪
♪ Big fat Santa's on his way ♪
♪ Big fat Santa's
on his way tonight ♪
♪ You better watch
out You better not cry ♪
♪ You better not pout
I'm tellin' you why ♪
♪ Santa Claus is
coming to town ♪
♪ Big fat Santa's on his way ♪
♪ He's making a list ♪
♪ He's checking it twice ♪
♪ He's gonna find out
who's naughty and nice ♪
♪ Santa Claus is
comin' to town ♪
♪ Big fat Santa's on his way ♪
♪ He sees you when you're
sleepin' ♪ ♪ He's comin' ♪
♪ He's comin' ♪ ♪ He
knows when you're awake ♪
♪ He's comin' ♪ ♪ He knows
when you've been bad or good ♪
♪ So be good for goodness sake ♪
♪ You better watch
out You better not cry ♪
♪ You better not pout
I'm tellin' you why ♪
♪ Santa Claus is
comin' to town ♪
♪ Big fat Santa's on his way ♪
♪ Big fat Santa's on his way ♪
♪ Big fat Santa's on his way ♪
♪ Tonight ♪
♪ You better watch
out You better not cry ♪
♪ You better not pout
I'm tellin' you why ♪
He's fine, Rebecca. ♪
Santa Claus is comin' ♪
No. Just listen. ♪ To town ♪
I will get him back to you in time
tomorrow before you leave for Vermont.
I hate Vermont. No, I
didn't tell him to say that.
He didn't have
to find the F.B.I.
He just went up to
a cop on the street,
told him he was lost and said
that his dad works at the F.B.I.
♪ He sees you ♪
♪ He's comin' ♪
♪ When you're sleeping ♪
♪ He's comin' ♪
♪ He knows ♪
♪ He's comin' ♪
♪ When you're awake ♪
♪ He's comin' ♪
♪ He knows when you've been bad or
good ♪ ♪ He's comin', He's comin' ♪
♪ So be good for goodness sake ♪
♪ You better watch
out You better not cry ♪
♪ You better not pout
I'm telling you why ♪
♪ Santa Claus is
coming to town ♪
- ♪ Big fat Santa's
on his way ♪♪
- Come on. In you go.
That's it. Okay,
buddy, here's the deal.
We get to spend
Christmas day together,
but then I've gotta
take you to Vermont.
Understand? Okay.
Will you miss Africa?
Africa? No.
I'd rather spend time with you.
Do we got a tree?
We got two trees.
Two trees? Two.
Why? All right, come on.
I'll show you. Come on.
Here. I want you
to try this, honey.
Are they having fun? What are
you talking about? Of course they are.
And by the way, this is the best
Christmas that I have had in 16 years.
Me too.
Oh.
Mmm! Oh, my God!
What's wrong? What is this?
It's just a little good cheer I made
under the mattress. Ugh. Booth?
Bones, hey. Good news. Turns out
I got Parker for Christmas after all.
Christmas magic, right? Hey,
so we figured we'd call and, uh,
wish you a little
yuletide cheer.
Merry Christmas,
Bones! Thanks, Parker.
Hey, if that's Booth, you wish him
Merry Christmas from me, will you?
- My dad says Merry Christmas.
- Hey, listen, Bones.
Uh, I got a little something for
you. Oh, I got you something too.
We can exchange
gifts in a couple of days.
- Go to the window
and open up the blinds now.
- What?
Hey, everybody.
It looks like we got our
tree after all. What? A tree?
Oh, my gosh! It's
so exciting! Oh, yes!
Merry Christmas.
I love my gift, Booth. Look at
the lights on it. It looks so pretty.
Merry Christmas, Bones.
It's the best Christmas ever!
What's that mean?
out You better not cry ♪
♪ You better not pout
I'm tellin' you why ♪
♪ Santa Claus is comin'... ♪♪
Oh, God. I can't deal with
any more kids poking at me.
At least you get the
kids. I get their dads.
Leches all want me
to sit on their laps.
I don't much care for the way
Santa is gawking at you either.
Don't do that. You're
too pretty to smoke.
Next you're gonna tell me it'll
stunt my growth. Be nice, now.
It's Christmas.
- What's that smell?
- What do you want? It's the back of a mall.
I have a very sensitive nose.
Don't walk. Why are you walking?
Let's just sit. It's
coming from over here.
There's something.
Probably old hot
dogs or a dead cat.
No, no, no. Don't touch. Let me.
Jail's not too bad.
I get meals with your brother. We
go out on these work details together.
You haven't asked me why
I'm strapped in these chains.
Well, you're in jail. No, I'm in dress
rehearsal for A Christmas Carol.
You're Jacob Marley?
I wanted to be Scrooge,
but some triple homicide in
Cell Block "H" got the part.
You don't want to know how.
What are you gonna
do for Christmas?
I'm doing what I always
do. I'm going on a trip.
New York? Peru. National
Geographic found a new step pyramid...
An ancient ceremonial
site known as "El Brujo."
1,500-year-old skeletons. Part of a
very mysterious culture called the Moche.
Well, unless they're elves, that's not
very Christmasy. No, they aren't elves.
You know what I'd like?
I'd like to spend another
Christmas with... with kids.
With a family. With a tree.
You're in jail, Dad.
So is Russ.
Mom's dead. Yeah. Yeah.
And Christmas is
overrated anyway.
People expect it to be
so perfect. It never is.
I'm really looking forward
to the skeletons in El Brujo.
Yeah, but Christmas and
skeletons do not go together.
I remember the Christmas...
you and Mom gave me the toolbox.
That was great.
Yeah, except that the
toolbox... was for Russ.
But you decided that it was
yours and... and he let you have it.
He did? Yeah.
I hope someday that, uh, we can
all have Christmas together again.
I doubt it, Dad. Well,
lie to me. I-I can pretend.
I've gotta go look
at a dead person.
Well, you never were good
at sugar-coating anything.
You got that "sad little
girl" look on your face...
after you've been with
your dad. No, I don't.
♪♪
He wishes we could spend
Christmas together with Russ.
Do it. They're both
in jail. It's impossible.
What are your plans?
I'm thinkin' about driving
the truck right off the bridge.
I'm being melodramatic and
self-pitying. You love Christmas.
I love it, you know,
when I have Parker,
but this year he's going
skiing in Vermont...
with Rebecca and
Captain Fantastic.
Who's Captain Fantastic?
Aw, it's her boyfriend.
Commands a Coast Guard cutter.
His last name isn't
literally Fantastic, is it?
Might as well be.
You know, they have a trailer at
the jail. Mostly for conjugal visits.
Captain Fantastic is
in jail? No. Your dad.
You could give him what he wants
for Christmas. Pull a few strings.
I'm not a string puller. I've
seen you pull some strings.
My father is a murderer and a
thief. Well, murderers and thieves...
They get Christmas too. In
fact, that's kind of the point.
Well, I have other plans.
Well, whatever they are,
skeletons and Christmas do not mix.
That's exactly
what my father said.
Where are we going? Early
Christmas present for you, Bones.
Dead guy in a sewer.
It's cold enough as it is.
Let's get this done here.
Great.
Had to be Santa.
You'd think someone who could squeeze up
and down chimneys would find a sewer a snap.
Rats got to him.
The huge bacterial count,
unseasonably warm weather...
Explains why the rats
found him so digestible.
He was washed down
through the sewer system.
I mean, look at all the
stuff that's around him.
Uphill is that way.
Busiest shopping district during
the busiest shopping season.
- Maybe he worked up there.
- Or he was pushed out
of a low-flying sleigh.
Cynicism from you at Christmas?
What happened? Nothing.
Rebecca's taking Parker
to Vermont for the holidays.
- That sucks majorly.
- It does suck majorly,
so what do you say...
- we just get back
to our dead Santa here?
- It's not Santa, Booth.
- He's a dead man in a costume.
- Well, the beard looks real. And he's pretty fat.
- Which doesn't make him Santa.
- Well, let's not
jump to conclusions.
Aw, three days before Christmas
and somebody kills Santa. Hmm.
We'll send his gloves
to the F.B.I. crime lab,
see if they can get any
fingerprints from the inside.
Damage here on the
left side of the skull...
suggests a strong blow
to the left temporal bone.
So Santa was definitely murdered.
Someone did not like their present.
There is copious insect
activity from the sewer.
I'm intrigued that the Santa myth
survives so far into modern times.
Children, Dr. Addy.
It's for children.
These duds are not department
store issue. That is real ermine.
- It's a hand-tailored suit.
- Which I'd like
to get off of him...
after you two finish
your scraping and...
Not that that isn't all
very, very important.
What Santa is supposed
to do is clearly impossible.
He keeps a list. Checks it
twice. What's the big deal?
If you take into account
all believers of the myth,
factor in time zones,
rotation of the Earth,
and assume Santa travels east
to west, he would have to make...
approximately 822.6 visits
per second to reach every child.
So Santa parks his sleigh,
unloads presents, fills stockings,
eats snacks, gets
back into his sleigh...
and on to the next house in
about 1/1,000th of a second?
Children have to be
stupid to accept that.
Okay, first of all, children are
not stupid. They're just children.
Second, Santa is magic.
Let's identify the
victim, shall we?
There's an ellipsoid aperture
in the mandibular left canine...
and first premolar
consistent with pipe smoking.
Mmm?
Plus traces of
residue on the canine.
Could this be clay?
Santa is often portrayed
smoking a clay pipe.
All right, all right. Very
funny, boys. Come on.
Where's your holiday spirit?
Based on the degree of
bloating and purged fluids,
I'd estimate time of death
between 72 and 96 hours ago.
Check the sewer sludge and
bugs. Get me confirmation.
Phorid fly maggots,
third instar.
And they appear to have
been well fed as well.
Santa was around some other
food source before he died.
- My bet's on milk and cookies.
- This is not
Miracle on 34th Street.
We're not saying this
is actually Santa Claus.
We're merely
anatomizing the evidence.
Okay. It's still rough, but...
this might help.
Dad wants to spend
Christmas with the family.
So how are you gonna arrange
it... bust me and Dad out?
There are trailers
for conjugal visits.
You might be able
to use one of those.
And I talked to Amy,
and she said she could
bring the girls down to see you.
You shouldn't have done that.
Amy said the girls have
been asking about you.
I lied to them, Tempe. The
girls don't even know I'm in here.
They think I went
overseas to work.
You're deserting
them, just like Dad.
You think it would be
better for them to find out...
that the guy they think is so
wonderful is actually a criminal?
When I found out Dad
was not dead, I was happy,
- even though it turned out
that he was...
- A murderer.
You are not a murderer, Russ.
It doesn't sound like a good
Christmas present to me.
- You could explain it...
- No! Tempe,
it's not gonna happen.
Can't you sleep
on your own couch?
Just waiting for the squints
to find out something.
How'd it go with Russ?
He says he doesn't
want the girls to come.
Your dad... He wants the
whole Christmas package.
You know, the tree, the kids,
the presents... the whole shebang.
Well, the whole
shebang is impossible.
Christmas is about making
the impossible happen.
You mean like you spending Christmas
with Parker? Okay. You know what?
That hurt.
Wake me up when the squint
squad finds out something.
Victim appears to have odd-shaped
remodeling on his sacrum...
with a sclerotic margin
around the injury.
Some kind of old injury?
Yeah. Two small
indentations here...
consistent with
trauma from impact...
with some sort of cloven hoof.
Cloven... like a reindeer?
Oh, thank God you're here.
This is so wasted on me alone.
Evidence is evidence whether
anyone is there to hear it or not.
- Our victim
was kicked by a reindeer.
- Oh, get the hell outta here.
- The sacrum.
- Wait, wait.
The evidence actually
adds up to an old fat man...
with a white beard, in a custom-made
Santa suit, who smoked a clay pipe...
and got kicked in
the ass by a reindeer?
F.B.I. lab got partial prints off the
gloves, and AFIS found a possible match.
Apparently our victim
worked for the school board.
As a teacher? No.
- He was a Santa Claus.
- A Santa Claus?
Or the Santa Claus?
- Check out his name.
- Kristopher Kringle.
According to AFIS,
it's his legal name.
Well, there's the old Dutch
Sinterklaas... Watch out!
Well, I'm looking. You're
gonna get hit by a car.
He had a partner
named Black Peter...
who carried a whip to
beat naughty children.
Myths are traditionally
used to control behavior.
For instance, the story of Moses
bringing the Ten Commandments.
Wait. You're equating
Moses to Santa?
Well, Santa's usually
considered more jolly. Okay, great.
At least I think he is. We're
looking for 223 Hudson.
I'm sorry you can't
be with Parker, Booth.
What are you gonna do, right? You
just gotta face the facts sometimes.
But she shouldn't take
him away. Not at Christmas.
Not the way he feels about you.
Oh, my God. What?
He lives in a toy store.
Oh.
Watch out for reindeer.
Yeah. Really funny.
♪ Have a holly jolly Christmas ♪
- ♪ It's the best time
of the year ♪
- Wow.
Parker would love this place.
Look at this! Gingerbread.
It's got the train.
♪ Holly, jolly
Christmas ♪ Look at this.
♪ And when you
walk down the street ♪
Booth? Yeah?
This might explain the
reindeer kick to Kringle's sacrum.
♪ The mistletoe hung
where you can see ♪
♪ Somebody waits for you ♪
You gotta be kidding me.
Bones, look at this. Wow.
This guy was committed.
Or should've been.
♪ Oh, by golly have a
holly jolly Christmas ♪
♪ This year ♪♪
♪♪
Hey, Bones. Check this out.
Hidden compartment.
Looks like Santa was
planning on buying a lot of toys.
Kris rented this place
from me for six years.
Do you know where
he lived before that?
Oh, actually, Bones, that
wasn't my first question.
He wrote his previous
address on the lease.
"North Pole." Aw,
come on with that.
See? It turned out
to be a good question.
You actually accepted that
address? Are you kidding?
How many guys want to live
above a toy store? It's noisy.
And Kris gave me first and
last month up front in cash.
Kris Kringle from the North
Pole lives above a toy store...
This is further evidence
that our victim...
is indeed the mythic figure
known as Santa Claus.
Mythic! Coming from the Latin
"myth," meaning doesn't actually exist.
No. From the Greek
"mythos," meaning "word."
He does not... It
says here that he...
What can you tell us about
Mr. Kringle's personal finances?
- Like I said,
he always paid cash.
- Where did he work?
An employment agency called Temp
Time, on Seventh by the convention center.
Ha! Couldn't have been Santa.
Why? Because Santa wouldn't
have worked at a temp agency!
Well, why not? His work is
seasonal. Because he would...
Kringle pay his rent
on time? Always.
- At least until
the last couple of months.
- Really?
'Cause you know what?
Obviously he wasn't short on funds...
with all the money we found in the
secret compartment of his drawer.
Son of a bitch. 1,200
bucks of that is mine.
All of this is
rumpled small bills.
Except for these...
Eight $50 bills.
Brand new, with
sequential serial numbers.
- I don't know
about any of this.
- Wait, whoa, whoa.
Did you guys have some
kind of a disagreement?
- Is that why he was
holding out on you?
- No. No.
No.
Maybe.
Kris gave me some ideas on
a toy which I patented and...
- It sold?
- Somebody took a picture
of TomKat's kid with it.
- So it sort of took off.
- Wow.
Kringle could've sued you
for a chunk of that cash.
- He never actually told me
he wanted a cut.
- Uh-huh.
Maybe he just
stopped paying his rent.
Thinking of Parker? No.
Thinking about your dad? No.
Russ.
Well, you can't blame him for not
wanting those girls to know the truth.
He's living a lie.
You'd never do that.
Well, not never. I
mean, I-I lie to Parker.
Especially this time
of year. What about?
I tell him that Santa's
coming. Really?
It's Santa Claus! The Santa
myth is based on blackmail...
"Be good, or you
won't get any presents."
No. It's not a "lie"
lie, Bones. It's...
It's more like
everybody agreeing...
that up to a certain age, kids
deserve to live a different kind of truth.
Okay, by that reasoning, what
we should do is figure out a lie...
Russ could tell the girls so
they wouldn't know he's in jail.
That is a brilliant
Christmas idea.
It was intended to be a
scathing and incisive comment.
Give Russ civvies.
The girls think he's flown in specially
to visit his father in jail at Christmas.
Where would he say he's been?
Building a bridge
in... Addis... Ababa.
Addis Ababa is the
landlocked capital of Ethiopia.
Fine, Bones. You know what?
Just make up your own lie.
I don't believe in
lying to children.
You just want to go to
Peru without feeling guilty.
You need to accept that you
won't have Parker this Christmas.
I am not enjoying this
holiday season at all.
Yeah? Well, neither am I.
The shadow on the X-ray is a slight
depression of the outer endocranial table.
The fracture's levered inward.
There are no signs of remodeling.
This localized staining...
suggests that his superficial
temporal artery was punctured.
Very likely the cause of death.
So Santa was conked on the
head. Question is, with what?
I'll run it under the scanning
electron microscope.
So what are you
doing for Christmas?
Going home to Michigan.
What about you?
Family cruise.
Sounds nice. You'd think so.
Let me know what you find.
- Kris is dead?
- Afraid so.
Man. I had a bad feeling
something was wrong.
I mean, it's not like
Kris to miss work,
especially not
this time of year.
- I called him a hundred times.
- Twelve. Twelve times.
We listened to his
answering machine.
- You know, there are
a lot of Santas here.
- But Kris was my numero uno.
I mean, all the
guys knew that here.
In fact, if it wasn't for him, I never would've
thought about getting into the Santa business.
Christmas is not gonna be
the same without Kris Kringle.
Anthropologically, what exactly would
it mean to be numero uno Santa Claus?
Well, Kris got the best gigs.
Any of the other
Santas, they get jealous?
Jealous enough to kill? Come on.
Is this about Kris? Did
something happen to him?
Who are you? I'm Jeff Mantell.
- What happened to Kris?
- Kris was murdered.
Everybody.
The dead Santa on
the news... It was Kris.
- Oh, no.
- Not Kris. Oh, no.
What can you tell me about Kris?
Kris made a guy proud to
wear the uniform. Sure did.
- That's the truth.
- Was Kris murdered?
Um, all the Santas just
need to take a step back.
Any help you need,
guys. Anything at all.
- Why are you limping?
- Oh, my shins. You want to see them?
No. Why would I
want to see your shins?
Children get to a certain age and they think
it's hilarious to kick Santa in the shins.
That's... I, uh...
All right. I'd like to talk to
anyone who knew Kris personally.
No, I only met Kris at the
diner a couple of weeks ago.
Okay. Whoever smells like the wet
sweater really needs to take a step back.
I was out of work, late
on my alimony. Ooh.
The man saved me.
He got me this job.
Sad but familiar tale with Kris.
- Typical Kris. Always looking to help out.
- He was a saint.
- Anybody know of any trouble?
- Or arguments?
- Differences of opinion?
- I can't even imagine that.
No. The man was
truly, sincerely... jolly.
We couldn't find a
record of his bank account.
Oh. Well, I-I cashed
Kris's checks.
What would Mr. Kringle do
during the three other seasons?
Well, Kris was my only
full-time temp Santa.
You know, sometimes for the odd
ad campaigns who needed a Santa...
Car dealerships,
ice cream parlors.
Sometimes hospitals
had "Christmas in July."
Ironically, the only night Kris
wouldn't work was Christmas Eve.
- His special night.
- His night to deliver toys
and goodies around the world.
We'd always tease
him about that.
He never denied it.
The maggots in dead Santa's
collar fed on high concentrations...
of non-sulfated chondroitin,
glycosaminoglycans and N-Acetylneuraminic acid.
This is why Booth
hates talking to you.
It's the regurgitated saliva of
male Aerodramus fuciphagus.
Wait. Booth hates talking to me?
Not you specifically. Lab people.
What's Aerodramus fuciphagus?
The main ingredient
in bird's nest soup.
It's a rare Chinese delicacy
made from the nests of swiftlets.
It's more like bird spit
soup if you ask me.
So our victim was in China?
I'm thinking Chinatown
is more likely.
But I also found
similar traces...
of the same stuff on the
back of Santa's pants.
Mostly on the rear end.
He sat in it? Yeah. Let's
hope that's how it got there.
How common is this dish?
A single kilogram of white
swiftlet nest costs two grand.
Let's see who makes it
here in D.C. Done and done.
These people all seemed pretty
upset to have lost one of their own.
I mean, they keep referring to
the uniform like soldiers or cops.
According to Hodgins, Kris
Kringle was probably killed...
in or near a restaurant called
Kum Jung Huen, up in Chinatown.
Come on. How did he figure that
out? Do you really want to know?
You tell me. No, you don't.
I'm gonna trust you on
that. If you don't mind,
I have a meeting with Caroline
Julian at your office in 10 minutes.
This about the trailer
for your dad's Christmas?
You think she'll help?
Well, Caroline's a lawyer.
She'll help, but she'll ask
you to do something in return.
That's fair. Yeah.
Hold that thought.
I thought you were going
to Brazil for Christmas.
Peru. Whatever.
South of the equator, doing
bone things with bone people.
I checked with the
people at the jail,
and for my father to
get the conjugal trailer,
the prosecutor in
charge of his case...
has to submit a written
recommendation.
Uh-huh.
You're the prosecutor
in charge of his case.
I'm aware of that.
Thank you, Dr. Brennan.
Mmm! Mmm!
So will you? You
going to Brazil and all,
what's the use of Max being in
that conjugal trailer all by himself?
Well, I'm trying to
persuade my brother...
to celebrate Christmas
with his family in there too.
A yuletide gathering of the
Brennan criminal element.
What do you mean "trying"?
Russ doesn't want his
step-daughters to know that he's in jail.
How do you persuade them otherwise if they're
actually having Christmas in the jail?
One other thing. The warden
says no Christmas tree.
That's right. Three years ago,
somebody made a shiv out of the star.
Now no trees or
ornaments of any kind.
Isn't that a little dreary?
Hey, don't kill people.
Don't get sent to prison.
Have a Christmas pageant
in your own home every year.
So will you?
Mmm. I will.
You will? Thank you.
On one condition.
Booth said you'd say that.
Did he say I'd ask
you to kiss him?
No.
Well, are you? No cheeks,
no noses. Right on the lips.
What? People kiss
people on the nose?
I want you to kiss him
under some mistletoe.
Kiss Booth?
That's right, chérie. Why?
Because it will amuse me.
Why? Because you're all...
"Dr. Brennan" and "Special
Agent Seeley Booth,"
and it's Christmas, and I have a
puckish side that will not be denied.
Puckish? What's the matter?
You don't think I
can be puckish?
Well, I never thought
about it until now.
You want me to
write that letter,
you kiss Booth on the
lips for no less than...
One steamboat, two
steamboats... Five steamboats.
That's blackmail.
That's correct.
That's unethical. That's
the deal. Take it or leave it.
What about a tree? No
Christmas tree. No way.
Not even if you
squeeze his buttocks.
Well...
I don't know. Couldn't I just
take you out to dinner sometime?
You kiss Seeley
Booth on the lips,
and I'll make sure your daddy
has his dream Christmas.
No tree, mind you, but otherwise, as
good as an accused murderer can expect.
Mmm.
Look, you ever seen
this man before?
Santa Claus? No. This
isn't actually Santa Claus.
The guy that's wearing the
Santa outfit in this picture...
Have you ever seen him?
Can I see your
I.D. again, please?
Booth! What?
Your kid like roaches?
Gromphadorhina, man. Hissing roach.
Hey, grab me this container.
This is a great pet, man.
Perfect Christmas gift. Uh, no. Did
you find the bird's nest maggots yet?
Not yet. I'm still looking.
Okay, I'm calling the cops.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, pal.
Hey, I am the cops, all right?
Any, uh, fights out here...
back in the alley in
the past four days? No.
I don't come out here
since I quit smoking.
It stinks. The cycle
of life, my friend.
It's quite beautiful if
you get into it. Is it?
Okay, you can go back inside,
but tell the rest of your staff...
I'll be in in a few minutes
to ask them some questions.
Hey, pal.
You better hope I don't report
this to the Health Department.
Pay dirt.
Fannia, Musca and Phoridae.
Yeah, these are the exact
maggots I found on Kringle's suit.
Mmm. It means this
is where he was killed.
So if he was killed here,
then he was probably,
uh, dragged over here...
to this grate,
and dumped down this sewer.
An ignominious end for
Father Christmas, huh?
Whoa! Whoa, what?
Phew! They were near the bottom.
No cash. Just I.D'.s and credit.
Probably dumped
there by pickpockets.
Hey, you found cash in
Kringle's apartment, right?
- Right.
- Maybe he picked
one pocket too many.
Mm-hmm. Well, we're gonna find
out the owners of these wallets...
and see if they know
any Santa pickpockets.
Booth? Yeah?
- Can you help me out of here?
- See you later.
Booth!
Booth. Oh, come...
Vermont is gonna
be great, buddy.
Snowboarding, just like
when we went to Liberty.
Mom says better than Liberty.
Well, she's right.
Can't you come?
- Parker...
- If you tell Mom
that I don't want to go,
then we could spend Christmas
together like we always do.
It's not gonna happen
this year, buddy.
When you get back,
me and you will have our own
Christmas, just the two of us.
Without Captain Fantastic.
You know, we shouldn't call
Brent Captain Fantastic anymore.
Why? You do. Well,
I won't anymore.
But it's funny. No,
it's disrespectful.
And if your mom likes someone, then
we should respect that and like them too.
- Is that true?
- You like Brent?
Yeah, I do. Wow.
- Bones!
- Are you gonna be
all alone at Christmas?
Me? Nah. I'm not gonna be alone.
I'll be with Bones
and all of our friends.
- I'm going to Peru.
- See? We're all going to Peru.
- You're having Christmas
in Africa?
- No. Actually, Peru is...
Is Africa. Isn't
that right, Bones?
Okay? I'm gonna be
just fine. So come on.
Go wash up before your mom
gets here to pick you up. All right?
Come here, buddy. I love you.
I love you too, buddy.
Go ahead. Okay.
You lied a lot to him.
That's the magic of
Christmas, Bones.
So, you want to tell
me what happened?
I'd just come out of the check cashing place
and I was off to do some Christmas shopping.
When you were mugged
by Santa? Not mugged.
It was just a bump as I
was walking out of the place.
I said, "Excuse
me." He ho, ho, ho'd.
- We went our separate ways.
- When did you realize
your wallet was missing?
An hour later at the Price Co.
I'm in the checkout line. I'm
going to pay, and it's gone.
Naturally you went back the next
day and you beat the crap out of him.
I asked for my wallet back.
Santa plays all dumb, and then it
got physical. It was 900 bucks, man.
Mr. Moussa, there are hundreds of
Santas in the D.C. area this time of year.
Come on. You and I are
trained law enforcement officers.
I got the right guy. If it was him,
he definitely deserved a beating.
It was him. And he got off
lucky because of my self-control.
This guy, he ruined Christmas.
Egyptians, they
celebrate Christmas?
I am not Muslim, Agent
Booth. I am Coptic.
Me, my wife, my children...
We all celebrate Christmas.
Except for maybe not this year
because this guy took my money.
And what'd you do to him?
I hit him.
I'm not proud of that.
No pushing? No tussling?
Just popped him once
in the shnoz. That's it.
You didn't roll
around in the alley?
What alley? We were
in front of a big-box store.
So you didn't mean to kill him? You
just shoved him down that manhole?
I knocked him down. The
people... They don't know why.
They don't understand.
They're looking.
Maybe they think I'm a
terrorist, so I get out of there.
Hmm. Right.
Do I need a lawyer?
Bones, Pay Fast Check Cashing
confirms cashing Moussa's paycheck.
Teller gave him 900
bucks... All crisp new 50s.
And Kringle had new
50s in his dresser. Yep.
- And the serial numbers match.
- Suggesting Kringle
is our pickpocket.
Mm-hmm. So we're getting a
warrant to analyze Moussa's clothing.
If there's any bird soup goop
on him, we'll know he's our killer.
What is with the mistletoe?
I was going to talk
to you about this.
Caroline wants us to kiss
under the mistletoe. What?
It's the only way she'll
make Christmas for my family.
- What? By having us kiss?
- Yes.
- Why?
- Because she's feeling puckish.
- Puckish? What's that mean?
- She's gonna be here any second. Do you want some gum?
No. My breath is just fine.
Look, I'll have a talk with Caroline.
No. No?
I'm only telling you out
of professional courtesy.
What? So that you
won't be surprised.
Yeah, when you say "kiss," you mean,
like, kiss-kiss, like on both cheeks?
No, the lips.
Like brother and
sister, colleagues.
French people meeting on the
street. Caroline's feeling puckish, huh?
It means playful and
impish. Congratulations.
I hear you have a suspect
in the Santa slaying.
Yeah. Well, it looks like the Easter
Bunny has nothing to worry about.
Did you talk to the
judge about the trailer?
Yes, I did. What about your end?
Well, look at that.
Mistletoe. You take a
step to your right... But...
You'll be right under
the cute little sprig.
Uh... I...
Was that enough steamboats?
Plenty. A whole flotilla.
I don't know what
that means, but, um,
merry Christmas.
It was like kissing my brother.
- You sure must like
your brother.
- She does.
- I do.
- She does.
The trailer is all arranged.
You're good to go,
chérie. Merry Christmas.
I'm sure she feels
really foolish right now.
Yeah.
Well, hey, I-I, uh...
I really should...
I should get back and see
if, uh, the forensic guy...
has got anything yet...
on Moussa's... It's
a good idea. Yeah.
I've got stuff to do too. Yeah.
Yeah. That... For... With bones.
I-I understand completely.
Oh. Thanks for the gum.
What are you doing? Hi.
Some metallic flakes
embedded in the bone.
I'm trying to help Zack determine
what kind of weapon was used.
You know, this is our
first Christmas as a couple.
Aw. Too bad Santa's dead.
I thought that we could make
Christmas decorations for our tree.
Is that too corny? It's what
my family did when I was little.
Mmm. And I always
thought, you know,
when I had my own family,
that I'd carry on the tradition.
Are two people a family? Isn't
that how every family starts?
Then I think us making
decorations is just corny enough.
I don't understand.
Has there been
some kind of crisis?
Yes. I have a crisis.
Bones, it was just mistletoe.
- Not the kiss. That was nothing.
- You kissed?
- Mistletoe.
- That's not the crisis.
- Was there tongue?
- All right. You know what?
Get your own sex life. That
has nothing to do with sex.
Nothing. No.
There was no s... It was
mistletoe. Totally sexless.
I'm all ears.
Just take your hat off there.
Booth... who is a
very honest person...
Says that at this time of
year, deception is necessary...
for the happiness of little
children. No, I'm being misquoted.
- Booth is absolutely right.
- She got the gist.
Yeah, there's a fictional
element to Christmas.
You mean the whole
"birth of a savior" rigmarole?
It is not rigmarole.
How do you know?
No, no. Dr. Brennan, it's-it's
the, uh, the feeling of Christmas.
What people call
the Christmas spirit.
It's a kind of dream or hope that
we carry with us from childhood.
- But as adults...
- Are you including you in that?
As adults, we're imbued by
the pragmatic routines of life,
which makes it difficult for us to
regard anything with childlike wonder.
But you know, it's
all right for us to try.
We put on silly hats and
drape trees with sparkly lights,
and wrap gifts in garish
paper, and that's good for us.
It's not only all right to allow
children the transient experience...
of innocence and joy,
it's our responsibility.
Okay. Okay?
I found that very helpful.
What do you think I've been
saying for the past four days?
You're gonna help
me lie to the girls?
Well, apparently, it's not
morally wrong to lie at Christmas.
What if they know I'm lying? Well,
apparently, sometimes lying is a kind of gift.
I'm hazy on the rules, but the idea
is, even if they know you're lying,
they know you're doing it out of
love. Where are you getting this?
Because I'm in jail and
I'm getting better advice.
Look, Russ, we have a plan. I
bring you some civilian clothes.
The girls think you popped
in from Addis Ababa...
Addis Ababa? Well, what
did you and Amy tell them?
We said I went to Burma. Burma?
Who cares where we chose?
Burma's on the other side of the world.
Russ, Burma doesn't
even exist anymore.
What happened to it?
Well, it became Myanmar.
There's another
problem with the trailer.
No Christmas tree. Why?
Shank material. Is it important?
Christmas with no tree?
It's a disaster. Forget it.
They're young, Russ.
They believe in Santa Claus.
They believe in you
because you love them.
And they'll sit on your lap,
and they'll open their presents.
And they'll believe
in you and Burma,
and-and maybe they won't
notice that there's no tree.
Look, Amy will be there. Dad
will be there. The girls will be there.
And you? I was going to.
But we're not the only
people getting the trailer.
And I thought it would be in the
afternoon, but now it's Christmas Eve.
And I've gotta be on that plane.
To Peru? Yeah.
Tempe, Dad wants us all.
I mean, you're one of us.
You found what
killed Kris Kringle?
- We know what it was made of.
- And we know the shape.
Something
crescent-shaped and brass.
I couldn't find
anything this shape,
but by making a slight paradigm
shift... Paradigm shift is my idea.
And slightly change the angle...
A circle, not a crescent.
I believe the mark left on Kris
Kringle's skull was the result...
of being struck with a circular object
approximately 15 centimeters in diameter.
- Six inches.
- A bell. A brass bell.
Meaning he was probably
attacked by another Santa.
Everybody have your bells?
All right! All right!
Enough! Stop!
You can tell the
elves they can go now.
Elves, go for coffee.
See you later. What's the
use of bells without Santa?
- Those bells are all the same.
- Yeah. I buy 'em in bulk.
- I sell them to the Santas
for cost.
- Was that Kris's idea?
Yeah. How did you know?
Just getting a feel for the guy.
Listen. We have a warrant
here to inspect your bells.
- Inspect our what?
- Bells, Larry.
- Uh, why?
- Agent Booth and I are gonna
swab each of your bells...
with a cotton ball soaked
in phenolphthaleine.
- Is it gonna sting?
- Bells, Larry. She said bells.
- You need a hearing aid, Larry.
- Why are you "antisepticising"
our bells?
- Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho.
- Steady there, Santa.
Why do you need a
warrant to disinfect a bell?
- What's the matter there, Santa?
- They're looking for something,
and they're not telling us!
Look, I read the
warrant. It's the law.
- Just give him the bell
so we can go.
- Jeff, just show 'em your bell.
- Just give us your bell.
- No.
I'm not gonna see my
son for Christmas this year,
so I'm a little annoyed with Christmas
and everything that comes along with it.
- So give the lady the bell.
- Give 'em a break.
Give her the bell.
Come on. Go ahead.
Thank you.
The brass plating
on this bell is chipped.
Ho, ho. Look at that.
What does that mean? Okay,
Santa, you're under arrest for murder.
- What?
- This bell is the weapon
that killed Kris Kringle.
No. No, no, no!
I didn't kill Kris.
Come on, guys. We
switch bells all the time.
- Now, that's true.
- All of our bells
are identical, you know?
We put one down, and
then we just pick up another.
Okay. Just hold on to your bells
there for a second. Any ideas?
No. Come on, think,
Bones. Paint the picture.
It's gotta be one of these guys. Half
of these guys owe Kringle the money.
One of them's a pickpocket. Ah.
Gets the money from the Egyptian.
Look, could we go?
Cool your jets, Santa.
- Go have a cookie and some eggnog.
- - Hey.
Kringle gets suspicious, he
catches the "pickpocketer"...
dumping the wallet in the
Dumpster, confronts him...
We have to sniff their
behinds. We have to sniff...
You lost me there. All right,
everybody up against the wall!
Or, okay, put your
hands on the table.
First of all, that's my job. And
second... Why? They fought.
They rolled around through
the bird's nest soup goop.
Right. Good thinking. Yeah.
That's good... except for
the "sniffing their butts" thing.
Okay, you start over
there. I'll start here.
Wait, wait, wait, wait.
You're gonna sniff my guys?
Geez! All right, this is officially
the worst Christmas ever.
I don't know.
Don't you need
a warrant for this?
Hey, pal. Why don't you
just be quiet? Turn around.
Yeah. Come on.
- Bird's nest soup.
- It's Jeff! He killed Kris.
- Are you gonna pull them off?
- Fine. Watch this.
Hey! How you
like it now, Santas?
Get off of him! Everybody off!
On your feet. You're
under arrest. Let's go.
The man is a
disgrace to his uniform.
♪ You better watch out ♪
You better not cry ♪
♪ You better not pout
I'm telling you why ♪
♪ Santa Claus is
coming to town ♪♪
♪ Big fat Santa's on his way ♪
♪ Big fat Santa's on his way ♪
♪ Big fat Santa's
on his way tonight ♪
♪ You better watch
out You better not cry ♪
♪ You better not pout
I'm tellin' you why ♪
♪ Santa Claus is
coming to town ♪
♪ Big fat Santa's on his way ♪
♪ He's making a list ♪
♪ He's checking it twice ♪
♪ He's gonna find out
who's naughty and nice ♪
♪ Santa Claus is
comin' to town ♪
♪ Big fat Santa's on his way ♪
♪ He sees you when you're
sleepin' ♪ ♪ He's comin' ♪
♪ He's comin' ♪ ♪ He
knows when you're awake ♪
♪ He's comin' ♪ ♪ He knows
when you've been bad or good ♪
♪ So be good for goodness sake ♪
♪ You better watch
out You better not cry ♪
♪ You better not pout
I'm tellin' you why ♪
♪ Santa Claus is
comin' to town ♪
♪ Big fat Santa's on his way ♪
♪ Big fat Santa's on his way ♪
♪ Big fat Santa's on his way ♪
♪ Tonight ♪
♪ You better watch
out You better not cry ♪
♪ You better not pout
I'm tellin' you why ♪
He's fine, Rebecca. ♪
Santa Claus is comin' ♪
No. Just listen. ♪ To town ♪
I will get him back to you in time
tomorrow before you leave for Vermont.
I hate Vermont. No, I
didn't tell him to say that.
He didn't have
to find the F.B.I.
He just went up to
a cop on the street,
told him he was lost and said
that his dad works at the F.B.I.
♪ He sees you ♪
♪ He's comin' ♪
♪ When you're sleeping ♪
♪ He's comin' ♪
♪ He knows ♪
♪ He's comin' ♪
♪ When you're awake ♪
♪ He's comin' ♪
♪ He knows when you've been bad or
good ♪ ♪ He's comin', He's comin' ♪
♪ So be good for goodness sake ♪
♪ You better watch
out You better not cry ♪
♪ You better not pout
I'm telling you why ♪
♪ Santa Claus is
coming to town ♪
- ♪ Big fat Santa's
on his way ♪♪
- Come on. In you go.
That's it. Okay,
buddy, here's the deal.
We get to spend
Christmas day together,
but then I've gotta
take you to Vermont.
Understand? Okay.
Will you miss Africa?
Africa? No.
I'd rather spend time with you.
Do we got a tree?
We got two trees.
Two trees? Two.
Why? All right, come on.
I'll show you. Come on.
Here. I want you
to try this, honey.
Are they having fun? What are
you talking about? Of course they are.
And by the way, this is the best
Christmas that I have had in 16 years.
Me too.
Oh.
Mmm! Oh, my God!
What's wrong? What is this?
It's just a little good cheer I made
under the mattress. Ugh. Booth?
Bones, hey. Good news. Turns out
I got Parker for Christmas after all.
Christmas magic, right? Hey,
so we figured we'd call and, uh,
wish you a little
yuletide cheer.
Merry Christmas,
Bones! Thanks, Parker.
Hey, if that's Booth, you wish him
Merry Christmas from me, will you?
- My dad says Merry Christmas.
- Hey, listen, Bones.
Uh, I got a little something for
you. Oh, I got you something too.
We can exchange
gifts in a couple of days.
- Go to the window
and open up the blinds now.
- What?
Hey, everybody.
It looks like we got our
tree after all. What? A tree?
Oh, my gosh! It's
so exciting! Oh, yes!
Merry Christmas.
I love my gift, Booth. Look at
the lights on it. It looks so pretty.
Merry Christmas, Bones.
It's the best Christmas ever!
What's that mean?