The Cleveland Show (2009–2013): Season 1, Episode 9 - A Cleveland Brown Christmas - full transcript

Here comes Santa Claus

Here comes Santa Claus
Right down Santa Claus lane

Vixen and Blitzen and all his reindeer
Pulling on the reins

Bells are ringing
Children singing

All is merry and bright

So hang your stockings
And say your prayers

'Cause Santa Claus comes tonight

Here comes Santa Claus
Here comes Santa Claus

Right down Santa Claus lane

He's got a bag that's filled with toys
For boys and girls again

Hear those sleigh bells jingle jangle
Oh what a beautiful sight



So jump in bed and cover your head
'Cause Santa Claus comes tonight

Christmas trees.
Get your Christmas trees.

Don't let your neighbors mistake you
for a Muslim.

Oh, Donna, I'm so happy.
This is our first Christmas together.

This one looks good. Mm.

Full on top, big old bottom.

- Just my type. Right, Donna?
- Don't forget bushy in the front.

My anaconda don't want none

Unless you got buns, hon
Baby got back

Ooh, baby, you keep moving like that,
I'm gonna jump in there for a tree-way.

You freak it, you buy it.

Then I guess we've got ourselves a tree.

Ow, bitch! What the hell?

I pick the tree for this family.



You know, since Robert left,
I have been letting Rallo pick the tree.

- All right, then pick one.
- I got one right here.

What? That lame little pint-size thing?

There's nothing to grab onto.

It's like an Asian or a little boy
or a little Asian boy.

My anaconda don't want...

Oh, come on now.
I feel ridiculous singing that to this tree.

It's wrong. Wrong.

This tree is wrong.
We're getting the one I want.

Man, you don't know nothing
about Christmas.

My real dad knew how to pick out a tree.

Too bad he's busy off
busting mafia punks for the FBI.

FBI? What kind of horse...?

Yeah. Robert's off working for the FBI.

What are you talking about...?

Ow, bitch! Ow. What the hell?

What is it with your family
and kicking people?

How can you let Rallo believe
that Robert is an FBI agent?

Maybe if it stood
for Freeloading Boozing Idiot?

Hey, that was right off the top of my head.
Suck on that, Wayne Brady.

Look, Rallo kept asking him
why he never came to visit.

Next thing I know, Robert's telling him he's
an undercover agent, so I went with it.

You lied to your child?

It's like my great-grandmother used to say.
A lie is just an upside-down truth.

What?

Hmm. Can I trust Donna?

Look, I'll tell him the truth
when he's older and can handle it better.

I guess sometimes
lying is the right thing to do.

Like the time I ran into that guy
from Entourage.

- Hey, you're Adrian Gr... from Entourage.
- Yes, I am.

Yeah, you're totally believable
as a big movie star...

...with your weird pot belly,
spindly arms, and huge head.

Your body is gross.

Wow, your boss goes all out
for the office Christmas party.

Why does Mr. Waterman
have shirtless men walking all around?

Well, Rallo, when you're older,
there are things that...

- Oh, is he a gay?
- Yes, he is a gay.

Well, he knows how to do Christmas
better than you, plump chump.

I'm gonna need this and plenty more.

The bubbles tickle my nose.

The Brown family's here. Hide the silver.

Ha, ha. I'm joking, of course.
It's already hidden.

- Welcome.
- Hello. I'm Lydia, Lloyd's wife.

Oh, this is already better than the last
homosexual's Christmas party I went to.

Silent night

Holy night

All is calm

All is bright

Great. Well, I'm gonna...

You sit back down.

Round yon virgin

Mother and child

Cleveland, I need a favor.

You're about Fred Peterson's size,
aren't you?

Ha. He wishes.

Oh, you mean body size. Yeah, why?

Fred always plays Santa Claus
at these parties.

Big hearty laugh, great with the kids.

Anyway, he hanged himself
in his carport last night.

- What?
- Yeah.

Don't know the details.

Apparently,
he had raped a bunch of folks.

- Fred Peterson did?
- Yup.

Mm. What people do.

So I was hoping, if you don't mind...

...that you could put on the Santa suit
and entertain the kids.

Uh, sure.

- It was old ladies.
- Huh?

He raped old ladies.

- Fred Peterson raped old ladies?
- Yup.

Mm. Have mercy.

Here you go.
Oh, wait a minute. The beard.

- Where's my beard?
- Right here, Lloyd.

Merry Christmas, Tim. Arianna.

It's so nice to see you, Donna.

As for your daughter's cleavage...

...well, I could see that across the room.
- Excuse me?

- What?
- And exit Tim.

Hey, everybody, look outside.

Ho-ho-ho! Merry Christmas!

Oh, man. Santa Claus?
Now, that's a good gift.

- You actually rented a reindeer?
- No. My husband owns it.

So, what,
he keeps it tied up somewhere...

...just to bring it out on Christmas
as a prop?

Yes. I can't imagine how that feels.

Aw, that poor reindeer.

Tyra Banks says
animal cruelty is wrong...

...except when it results
in a bacon double cheeseburger.

We gotta do something about this.

Merry Christmas,
children of Waterman Cable.

Mm.

That's what I'm nogging about.

One of you little kids get up here.

All right.
First off, I've heard about your list.

And I want you to understand
that most of the stuff I do...

...is more limit-testing
than out-and-out naughtiness.

- Well, what would you like for Christmas?
- A Slinky.

- All right.
- Thanks, Santa.

Good to know I can count on somebody
this Christmas.

Not like my lame-ass stepdad.

Oh, I'm sure your stepdad
is doing the best he can.

Santa, you're being kind.
And that's who you are and I love that.

But, no,
Cleveland just plain sucks at Christmas.

Ha. You got a second?

Hey, Prancer.
Park that tray of drinks right here.

Attention, people of YouTube,
today I am setting a reindeer free.

A courageous act which may end up
being seen by Tyra Banks...

...who will then call me and ask me
to become the Gayle to her Oprah...

...but without the sexual obligations.

Okay. I think I got him untied.

Mr. Reindeer,
I now give you your freedom... Unh.

Ow, the hoofs. Or is it hooves?

Either way,
this hurts like a myuther fyuquer. Unh!

Bye.

And this fool is like:

"Gee, Donna,
do you think this tinsel is a fire hazard?"

I'm sure that sounds nothing like him.

Meanwhile, my real dad is out there
putting his life on the line for justice.

And you should see
what my bozo stepdad calls a mustache.

Oh, hell, no. His mustache is cool.

And your dad is not an undercover agent.

Your dad is nothing but a no-good deadbeat
loser who freelances at a car wash.

- What?
- Your dad's a bum.

How am I gonna get out of this one?

Find out after these loud
and off-putting messages.

Was Santa right about Daddy?

That he lied about being an FBI agent...

...and going undercover as a dog
to bust Michael Vick?

I should have...
Santa should have kept his mouth shut.

That will not smell good.

I'm afraid your dad was lying, honey.

I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner.

What about all these letters Dad sent
from Russia?

I sent those.

What about his badge?

It's a promotional item
from Paul Blart: Mall Cop.

What about his FBI MVP trophy?

Yeah. You can just get trophies made
for anything.

You mean? Oh.

Hmm, I'm gonna keep it.

I can't believe you've been lying to me.

I'm so sorry, baby.

Just know that your family
loves you very much.

Gloria

Gloria

Gloria

I think they got your number

Gloria

I think they got the alias

Gloria

That you've been living under

Gloria

G- L-O-R-l-A

Thank you, Wally and the Fluffers.
That was glorious.

And now, the child who was selected
from the entire student body...

...to read his letter to Santa Claus...

...that just might help remind us all
what Christmas is really about.

An adorable little goy, Rallo Tubbs.

"Dear Santa, fuck you.
And fuck Christmas."

That's what happens when you put a Jew
in charge of a Christmas pageant.

This is all your fault.

You had to go get drunk
and tell him the truth about his dad.

Yeah? Well, you been
lying to him for years.

And it was working.

At least we don't have to lie to him
anymore.

Because I'm done making phone calls.

Talking like this.

Happy birthday, Rallo.
How's your mama's ass look?

You know what?
This is my fault and I'll fix it.

I'll get Rallo back
into the Christmas spirit.

Thanks, Cleveland.

Good looking out, doughboy.

Hey, look, Rallo.
It's Stoolbend's largest model-train exhibit.

Mm-hm.

Look how festive.

It's not nearly as depressing
as the real railroad industry.

They say it's cheaper than flying.

But that's only true
if you think your time's worth nothing.

Santa's driving a train?

You're a waste of a life, fat man.
Time to end it all.

Blood on the tracks
today in Holiday Town...

...where for 68 passengers,
a routine train ride to Gumdrop Village...

...instead took a detour
to the Gumdrop County Morgue.

And now over to Dirk with sports.

Hey, better make that
two massacres today.

The Holiday Town Celebrators
were shut out eight to nothing.

A bad day indeed
for pretend cake-figurine baseball.

Merry Christmas, Cleveland.
I was your Secret Santa.

- Oh, pens.
- Yeah.

I saw you writing with a pen
that one time.

So I know you like them.

I do like pens.

See? He likes pens.

No, I know. No, I know he likes pens.

I ju... I just thought it would look cheap.

- And it does.
- Your opinion.

Well, I guess it's my turn.

Here you go, Holt.

A can of 25-year-old
Red Bull Private Reserve?

Just like Brody Jenner drinks.

My whole life, Christmas was always
about Holt not being good enough.

You give me wings, bro.

You give me wings. Oh, God.

- All right then.
- Daddy issues, party of one.

Yeah, well, speaking of daddy issues, I still
don't know what I'm gonna do about Rallo.

Maybe if we get him a big enough gift.

Look, Cleveland,
it seems pretty clear that Rallo feels hurt.

And he's just displacing his anger
onto Santa and Christmas.

The only gift he could possibly want
would be to see his father.

The most human among us is a bear.

Let that sink in.

I gotta go find Rallo's dad.

Merry Christmas.

Cleveland Jr.,
you're very lucky to have a father.

You know, not all boys have fathers.

Tonight, I'm gonna do my best to make sure
that Rallo has a father on Christmas.

But it's gonna be a dangerous mission
and I might not make it back.

- No, Daddy, don't go.
- Shh-shh-shh.

You've been a good boy this year.

I try, Daddy.

Proud of you.

And I bet Santa's gonna bring you
some nice gifts.

- I hope so.
- Mm-hm.

I'm so lucky to have a son like you.

So peaceful.

You're creeping me out a little, Dad.

Oh, I'm sorry.

Seems like just yesterday
you were standing up in your crib...

...shaking on the sides...

...like you couldn't wait to bust out of there
and explore the world.

Now look at you.

All fat, can't play baseball
worth a pile of dog crap...

...still writing letters to Santa Claus
at 14...

...laying back, taking it
while your dad strokes your face.

What's wrong with you?
What kind of kid have I raised?

Okay. Now I'm gonna go find Rallo
and Roberta's dad.

You are not going out at midnight
on Christmas Eve.

Try and stop me. Ow!

Ah.

Cleveland, nobody's been able
to track Robert down for months.

Why don't you just be a normal stepdad,
buy his love, and move on?

No. I'm gonna give Rallo the only present
that's gonna restore his faith in Christmas.

His father.

What the hell?

Just hear those sleigh bells jingling

Ring-ting-tingling too

Come on, it's lovely weather
For a sleigh ride together with you

Outside the snow is falling

And friends are calling yoo-hoo

Come on, it's lovely weather
For a sleigh ride together with you

Giddyup, giddyup, giddyup
Let's go

Let's look at the show

We're riding in a wonderland of snow

Giddyup, giddyup, giddyup
It's grand just holding your hand

Whoo-hoo!
Ha, ha, yeah.

All right, yeah, swallow that.

Yoo-hoo. Everybody decent?

Doughboy?
What the El DeBarge are you doing here?

I need to talk to you about your son.

Ma'am, I think I saw the Atlanta Hawks
out there.

Look, Rallo knows you've been lying to him
about being an FBI agent.

And it's ruined Christmas for him.

So? The Beach Boys' Brian Wilson...

...his dad made him take a crockie
in a cardboard box...

...under the Christmas tree
in front the entire family.

- Is that true?
- That's what I heard.

What the hell?

Well, if so, Brian Wilson
defecated in that cardboard box...

...because he loved his father.

Just like all boys love their fathers
no matter how bad they treat them.

So I'm gonna dress up like Santa...

...and bring you to our house
as my gift to Rallo.

And if you won't do it...

...you're not worth the box Brian Wilson
dropped a little deuce coupe in.

Get your hands off me.

Look, Robert...

...this Christmas, the best present
you can give Rallo is just being present.

Don't hang your homonyms on me,
doughboy.

- I thought what you said was beautiful.
- Thank you.

Merry Christmas, whore.

Merry Christmas, Rallo.

Oh, is that today?

Here, baby. Look what's under the tree.

- Ha. A Slinky.
- What's wrong?

I remember the old Rallo
who used to think a toy could fix anything.

That child's a stranger to me now.

Ho-ho-ho.

Well, Santa.

You got some gigantic jingle bells,
showing your face around here.

Santa.

You're 14 years old.

Rallo, Santa wanted to apologize
for what he said at Mr. Waterman's party.

So he went out and got you
the Christmas tree you really wanted.

He brought you a picture of the guy
who played Grady on Sanford and Son.

Whitman Mayo. Yes. I needed him.

Thanks, Santa Claus.

Ohh.

Merry Christmas, peoples.

What the...?
- Oh, my word.

Some type of warlock
has cursed Christmas.

What's going on around here?

Maybe this will clear things up.

Dad.

- How are you doing, Rolo?
- Oh, I'm so happy to see you.

Last night, I realized it's important for me
to see my sperms on Christmas.

- What's up, Rwanda?
- Merry Christmas, Dad.

A wise man told me
the best gift is just being here.

Kind of butchered it, but whatever.

Look, Rocko,
I'm sorry I lied about being an FBI agent.

It was a lowdown, dirty move.

Wow, you actually got through to him.

Of course, I did. It's my damn show.

But why, Dad?

Why would you lie to your own kid?

I guess I didn't want you to know the truth
about me.

But now it's time I told you everything.

No more lying.

The truth is...

...I am...

...Santa Claus.
- What? You're Santa Claus?

You're Santa Claus?

See, I live at the North Pole,
so that's why I can't visit that much.

Oh, that's why you guys lied.

So I wouldn't know Santa's true identity.

Exactly.

And so your mama can't garnish
Santa's wages.

But we gotta keep this a secret
just between us.

But wait. If you're Santa Claus,
then who's this clown?

Cleveland? Oh, well, that's about right.

Sorry-ass wannabe
trying to be as cool as my dad.

Dad, there you are.

Did you know that Rallo and Roberta's dad
is Santa Claus?

You're a good boy.

Merry Christmas.

So this all makes sense to you, Rallo?

Hell, yeah. My dad's Santa Claus.

Oh, the weather outside is frightful

But the fire is so delightful

And since we've no place to go

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

Ho, ho. A black Santa Claus.