Simpsons Roasting on an Open Fire/Transcript

This is the transcript for Simpsons Roasting on an Open Fire.
==Transcript==
[The episode starts with Homer driving the Pink Sedan with Marge and Maggie through a snow-covered street, they are late for Bart and Lisa's Christmas pageant at Springfield Elementary School.]
Marge: Ooh! Careful, Homer!
[Homer drives the Pink Sedan through the driveway.]
Homer: There's no time to be careful, we're late !
[Homer, Marge, and Maggie are seen in the car; the car stops at Springfield Elementary School; Homer, Marge, and Maggie leave the car; singing is heard inside; they go through a sign reading, "Springfield Elementary School Annual Christmas Pageant "***1/2*" Springfield Shopper". Camera cuts to stage with twenty-one children singing; Homer, Marge, and Maggie go through the front row seats, excusing people.]
Marge: (whispering) I'm sorry. Excuse me. Pardon me. Sorry. Excuse me.
[Marge continues excusing everyone.]
Homer: Hey Norman, how's it goin'? So, you got dragged down here too, huh? How you doin', Fred? 
Marge: Sorry. Excuse me.
Homer: [gibberish] Yeah. 'Scuse me.
[Woman screams.] 
Homer: Oh! Pardon my galoshes.
[Homer laughs. Homer and Marge sit down; children continue singing. Everyone claps; Principal Skinner appears.]
Principal Skinner: (laughs) Wasn't that wonderful? 
[Everyone continues clapping.] 
Principal Skinner: And now, "Santas of... 
[Principal Skinner reads the paper.]
Principal Skinner: Many...Lands", as presented by the entire second grade class.
[Maggie sucks on her pacifier]
Marge: Ooh, Lisa's class!
[Homer looks at Marge and nods his head.]
German Santa Girl: Fröhliche Weihnachten. That's German for "Merry Christmas". In Germany, Santa's servant, Ruprecht gives presents to good children, and whipping rods to the parents of bad ones
[Everyone claps. Maggie sucks on her pacifier.]
Hotei Oshō: Merry Kurisumasu. I am Hotseiosha, a Japanese priest who acts like Santa Claus. I have eyes in the back of my head, so children better behave when I'm nearby.
[Everyone gasps and then starts clapping.]
Dewey Largo: Now presenting Lisa Simpson as Tawanga, the Santa Claus of the South Seas.
Homer: Ooh, it's Lisa! That's ours!
[Lisa’s dance causes awe throughout the crowd. Lisa performs a skilled dance with lit torches, performing tricks such as throwing it around herself – Lisa also wears see-through clothing, effectively ‘revealing' Lisa completely at the end of her act. Everyone claps.]
Principal Skinner: Ah, the fourth grade will now favor us with a melody--uh, medley of holiday "flavorites".
[Jingle Bells is sung first.]
Fourth Grade: Dashing through the snow, in a one-horse open sleigh, O'er the fields we go; Laughing all the way, ha ha ha; Bells on bobtail ring...
[The singing continues.]
Marge: Isn't Bart sweet, Homer? He sings like an angel.
[Bart picks up his voice volume during the chorus and sings a Batman-themed parody.]
Bart: Oh, Jingle Bells, Batman smells, Robin laid an egg, The Batmobile broke its wheel, The Joker got awa--
[Bart screams as an irate Skinner withdraws Bart from the performance. Homer gives a disappointed look for Bart's actions.]
Fourth Grade: Jingle bells, Jingle bells, Jingle all...
[But as the pageant continues Homer grows bored.]
Principal Skinner: (clears throat) The fifth grade will now favor us with a scene from Charles...Dickens' "A Christmas Carol".
[In the audience.]
Homer: (groans) How many grades does this school have?
[At the Simpson family home, Marge writes a letter for the Simpson family Christmas cards, as Homer gets out Christmas decorations, and Bart and Lisa write their Christmas wish lists. As she reads the letter, Marge's narration describes her writing.]
Marge: (voice) "Dear friends of the Simpson family, we had some sadness and some gladness this year. First, the sadness. Our little cat Snowball was unexpectedly run over and went to kitty heaven. But we bought a new little cat, Snowball II...
[Snowball II meows.]
Marge: (voice) So I guess life goes on. Speaking of life going on, Grandpa is still with us, feisty as ever. Maggie is walking by herself, Lisa got straight A's, and Bart--Well, we love Bart.
[The camera pans around to the different family members as she mentions their names and stories.]
Marge: (voice) The magic of the season has touched us all.
Homer: Marge, haven't you finished that stupid letter yet?
Marge: (voice) Homer sends his love. Happy Holidays.
Homer: Marge!
Marge: (voice) The Simpsons."
[Marge soon stops writing, due to Homer's grumpy demeanor.]
Homer: Marge, where's the extension cord?
Marge: For heaven's sake, Homer. It's in the utility drawer.
Homer: Sorry. I'm just a big kid. And I love Christmas so much. D'oh!
[Homer grumbles.]
Marge: All right, children, let me have those letters. I'll send them to Santa's workshop at the North Pole.
Bart: Oh, please. There's only one fat guy that brings us presents, and his name ain't Santa.
[Marge is uncomfortable when Lisa once again asks for a pony for Christmas.] 
Marge: Uh--A pony? Oh, Lisa, you've asked for that for the last three years, and I keep telling you Santa can't fit a pony into his sleigh. Can't you take a hint? 
[Lisa remains optimistic about her present request.] 
Lisa Simpson: But I really want a pony, and I've been really, really good this year.
Marge: Oh, dear. Maybe Bart is a little more realistic.
[Marge plans to read Bart's letter to Santa, hoping he would be a bit more reasonable. However, he proves to be the same as Lisa when he asks for a tattoo.] 
Marge: A tattoo?!
Homer: A what? 
Bart: Yeah! They're cool, and they last the rest of your life.
Marge: You will not be getting a tattoo for Christmas.
Homer: Yeah. If you want one, you'll have to pay for it out of your own allowance.
Bart: All right! 
Marge: Homer! 
[Homer and Marge quickly refuse to let Bart have one regardless. They are interrupted by a phone call.] 
Homer: "Yello".
[Homer answers to Patty.] 
Patty: (over phone) Marge, please.
Homer: Who's this? 
Patty: (over phone) May I please speak to Marge? 
Homer: This is her sister, isn't it?
Patty: (over phone) Is Marge there? 
Homer: Who shall I say is calling? 
Patty: (over phone) Marge, please.
[A grumbling Homer hands the phone over to Marge.] 
Homer: It's your sister.
Marge: Oh! 
[The two sisters discuss their plans, Christmas Eve.] 
Marge: Hello. 
Patty: (over phone) Hello, Marge. It's Patty. Selma and I couldn't be more excited about seeing our baby sister for Christmas Eve.
Marge: Well, Homer and I are looking forward to your visit too.
[Homer starts gagging. The sisters also find time to criticize Marge's choice in a husband.] 
Patty: (over phone) Somehow, I doubt that Homer is excited. Of all the men you could've married, I don't know why you picked one who's always so rude to us.
[Homer is outside adding the finishing touches to the Christmas lights on the roof, while the three children watch. Homer falls from the roof, lands in the snow.] 
Bart: Good one, dad!
[Bart applauds.] 
Homer: Okay, kids, prepare to be dazzled.
[Homer calls out to Marge to power the lights.] 
Homer: Marge, turn on the juice! 
[Only a few of the lights actually light up, and Homer admires his handiwork, while the kids are less than impressed.] 
Homer: What do you think, kids? 
Lisa: Nice try, dad.
[Bart groans. Ned Flanders is also outside, along with Todd Flanders, and ready to plug in his lights for the first time.] 
Ned: Just hold your horses, son. Hey, Simpson! 
[Ned calls out to Homer.] 
Homer: What is it, Flanders? 
[Ned tells him to admire his superiority.] 
Ned: Do you think this looks okay? 
[As he plugs the lights in, the entire Flanders house lights up, including a talking Santa Claus on the roof.] 
Talking Santa Claus: Ho ho ho. Ho ho ho...
[The lights illuminate everyone's faces and much to Homer's dismay; his kids are very impressed at Ned's display of lights.] 
Lisa: Oh! 
Bart: Oh, neato! 
[Homer still manages to criticize Ned's work, obviously jealous over the fact Ned's display is better than his own.] 
Homer: It's too bright. I oughta--Flanders. What a big show-off.
[Marge tells the kids to grab their money so they can go Christmas shopping at the Springfield Mall.]
Marge: Kids, you want to go Christmas shopping?
Lisa: I do!
Bart: All right! The mall!
Marge: Go get your money.
[The excited kids run off to get their money.]
Homer: Tell us, Marge. Where have you been hiding the Christmas money?
Marge: Oh, I have my secrets. Turn around.
[Marge pulls a jar out of her hair.]
Marge: You can look now.
[It is a very large jar full of money, impressing Homer.]
Homer: Ooh! Big jar this year.
[Later at the mall, Marge, Lisa, and Maggie look at gifts together; Bart is off by himself and comes across The Happy Sailor Tattoo Parlor. In the window, he sees a tattoo of a heart with the word “mother” written across it. He imagines that Marge will have a positive reaction to him getting a tattoo.]
Imaginary Marge: Oh, Bart, that's so sweet. It's the best present a mother could get, and it makes you look so dangerous.
[Bart runs inside the parlor.]
Bart: One "Mother", please.
Marvin Monroe: Wait a minute. How old are you?
Bart: Twenty-one, sir.
Marvin: Get in the chair.
[Bart gets into the chair. At the Springfield Nuclear Power Plant.]
Homer: Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.
Smithers: (over loudspeaker) Attention, all personnel, please keep working during the following announcement. And now our boss and friend Mr. Burns.
[Mr. Burns, the plant's owner, and rightful boss announces over the loudspeaker that there will not be any Christmas bonuses this year for unskilled workers, including Homer.]
Mr. Burns: (over loudspeaker) Hello. I'm proud to announce that we've been able to increase safety here at the plant without increasing the cost to the consumer or affecting management pay raises. However, for you semi-skilled workers, there will be no Christmas bonuses. Oh, and one more thing. Merry Christmas!
[Homer sighs as he remembers they still have the big jar full of money for Christmas presents.]
Homer: Oh, thank God for the big jar.
[Back at the mall.]
Marge: Where's that Bart?
[Marge hears Bart's yells of pain coming from inside the tattoo parlor and she quickly runs inside to see Bart with the heart tattoo partially finished on his arm. She quickly pulls him out of the chair.]
Bart: But, mom, I thought you'd like it!
[Marge takes him to Dr. Zitsofsky's Dermatology Clinic.]
Dr. Zitsofsky: Yes, Mrs. Simpson, we can remove your son's tattoo. It's a simple routine involving lasers.
Bart: Cool!
Dr. Zitsofsky: However, it is rather expensive, and we must insist on a cash payment up front.
Marge: Cash?
Dr. Zitsofsky: Mm-hmm.
[Marge decides to use all the Christmas money for Bart's tattoo removal.]
Marge: Thank God for Homer's Christmas bonus.
[Bart then undergoes a “James Bond”-style operation.]
Bart: ¡Ay, caramba!
Dr. Zitsofsky: Now, whatever you do, boy, don't squirm. You don't want to get this sucker near your eye or your groin.
[Back at home.]
Bart: Ow! Quit it. Ow! Quit it. Ow! Quit it. Ow! Quit it.
Homer: Hey, what's with this?
Bart: Ow! Quit it! Used to be a real boss tattoo.
[Lisa tells Homer what has happened.]
Lisa: But mom had to spend all the Christmas money having it surgically removed.
Homer: Huh?
[Homer freaks out.]
Homer: (gasps) It's true! The jar is empty! Oh, my God! We're ruined. Christmas is canceled. No presents for anyone!
Marge: Don't worry, Homer. We'll just have to stretch your Christmas bonus even further this year.
[Homer gasps.]
Marge: Homer?
Homer: Oh, yeah. My Christmas bonus. (chuckles) How silly of me.
[Homer steps outside for a walk, choosing to conceal the truth.]
Homer: This'll be the best Christmas yet. The best any family ever had.
[Homer laughs. Once outside, he looks at his poorly decorated house and then at Flanders' masterpiece.]
Talking Santa Claus: Ho ho ho. Ho ho ho. Ho ho ho. Ho ho ho. Ho ho ho...
[A depressed Homer hangs his head in despair on the sidewalk. Marge senses something is amiss with Homer.]
Marge: Hmm. I get the feeling there's something you haven't told me, Homer.
Homer: Huh? Oh. I love you, Marge.
Marge: You tell me that all the time.
Homer: Oh, good, because I do love you. I don't deserve you as much as a guy with a fat wallet and a credit card that won't set off that horrible beeping.
Marge: I think it does have something to do with your Christmas bonus. I keep asking for it, but--
Homer: Marge, um, let me be honest with you.
Marge: Yes?
Homer: Well, I would--I want to do the Christmas shopping this year.
Marge: Uh, sure, okay.
[Marge agrees and is content with Homer's answer; the two of them fall asleep. The next day, Homer does the Christmas shopping alone at Circus of Values.]
Homer: Marge, Marge. Hmm. Let's see. Ooh, look! Pantyhose. Practical and alluring. A six-pack. Oh! Only 4.99. Ooh! Pads of paper. I bet Bart can think of a million things to do with these. That just leaves little Maggie. Oh, look! A little squeak toy. It says it's for dogs, but she can't read.
[On his way out the door with his bag of presents, Homer accidentally crashes into Ned and Todd, while Ned carries an armful of fancily wrapped packages. All the presents are spilled onto the ground.]
Ned: Ow! Oh, Simpson, it's you.
Homer: Hello, Flanders.
Ned: Oh, my! What a little mess we've got here. Well, which ones are yours and which ones are mine?
Homer: Well, let's see--
Ned: Oh, this one's mine. This one's mine. This one's mine, and this--
Homer: They're all yours!
Todd: Hey, Mr. Simpson, you dropped your pork chop.
Homer: Gimme that!
Ned: Well, happy holidays, Simpson!
Todd: (to Ned) Gee, Dad, this is going to be the best Christmas ever!
Ned: (chuckles) You bet!
[At Moe's Tavern, Homer drinks a beer alone.]
Moe: What's the matter, Homer? Somebody leave a lump of coal in your stocking? You've been sitting there, sucking on a beer all day long.
Homer: So? 
Moe: So, it's Christmas.
[Moe hands Homer a candy cane.] 
Homer: Thanks, Moe.
[A cheerful Barney arrives wearing a Santa Claus costume.]
Barney: Drinks all around!
Homer: What's with the crazy getup, Barn?
Barney: I got me a part-time job working as a Santa down at the mall.
Homer: Wow! Can I do that?
Barney: I don't know. They're pretty selective.
[Barney belches. Homer suddenly has an idea, so he goes to the personnel office in the mall, where he fills out an application and is interviewed to be a mall Santa.]
Personnel director: Do you like children?
Homer: What do you mean? All the time? Even when they're nuts?
Personnel director: Hmm.
Homer: Uh, I certainly do.
Personnel director: Welcome aboard, Simpson. Pending your successful completion of our training program, that is.
[A montage of Homer enduring Santa training ensues, with the Hypnotist as the teacher.]
All: Ho ho ho. Ho ho ho. Ho ho ho. Ho ho ho...
Hypnotist: What is it now, Simpson?
Homer: Uh, when do we get paid?
Hypnotist: Not a dime till Christmas Eve! Now, from the top.
All: Ho ho ho. Ho ho ho...
[Homer is now standing up front.]
Homer: Um, Dasher... Dancer...
Hypnotist: Mm-hmm.
Homer: Prancer...
Hypnotist: Mm-hmm.
Homer: Nixon. Comet and... Cupid. Donna Dixon?
Hypnotist: Sit down, Simpson.
[The Hypnotist is now sitting on Homer's lap.]
Homer: And what would you like, little boy?
Hypnotist: You're not really Santa, tubby.
Homer: Why, you little egghead!
Hypnotist: No, no, Homer! If such an emergency arises, you just tell them Santa's very busy this time of year and you are one of his helpers.
Homer: Oh, I knew that one too!
[Homer finally gets home late at night and a worried Marge wants to know where he has been.]
Marge: Homer, why are you seven hours late?
Homer: Not a word, Marge. I'm heading straight for the tub.
Marge: But, Homer, my sisters are here. Don't you want to say hello?
[Homer starts shuddering. Patty and Selma are holding Bart and Lisa.]
Lisa: Daddy! Daddy! We're so glad to see you!
Bart: Oh, Dad, you're finally home!
Homer: What? Why? Oh, yeah. Hello, Patty. Hello, Selma. How was your trip?
Patty: Fine.
Homer: You both look well.
Selma: Thank you.
Homer: Yeah, well, Merry Christmas.
Patty: It's Christmas? You wouldn't know it around here.
Homer: And why is that?
Selma: Well, for one thing, there's no tree.
Homer: Well, I was just on my way out to get one! 
Lisa: Can we go too, Dad? 
Bart: Yeah, can we? 
Homer: No! 
[Homer rushes out the door. In the car, Homer drives past several Christmas tree lots; gradually, the trees become cheaper from the earlier expensive ones. Eventually, he stops at a private Christmas Tree Farm and uses a chainsaw to steal a nice Christmas tree for the family.]
Man: Hey, you! What do you think you're doin'?
Homer: Uh-oh.
Man: Hey! Hey! Come back here! 
[Homer is soon met with retaliation: the farm owner fires his gun upon Homer and has two hounds pursue. However, Homer escapes relatively easily. Back at home, Homer sets up the tree, and everyone is impressed except for Patty and Selma.] 
Homer: So, what do you think, kids? Beauty, isn't it? 
Bart: Wow! Yay, Dad! 
Lisa: Way to go, Dad! 
Selma: Why is there a birdhouse in it? 
Homer: Uh, that's an ornament.
Patty: (sniffs) Do I smell gunpowder? 
[On Christmas Eve at the mall, Homer works as Santa Claus, while children wait in line to sit on his lap, one being a very greedy child.] 
Boy: And then I want some Robotoids. And then I want a Goop Monster. And then I want a great big, giant-- 
Homer: Aw, son, you don't need all that junk. I'm sure you've already got something much more important--a decent home and a loving father who would do anything for you. Hey, I couldn't afford lunch. Give me a bite of that donut.
[From a distance, Bart, Milhouse, and Lewis watch the children line up to sit on Santa's lap while they comment on the gullibility of the kids.] 
Milhouse: Get a load of that quote-unquote "Santa".
Lewis: I can't believe those kids are falling for it.
Bart: Hey, Milhouse, I dare you to sit on his lap.
Milhouse: Oh, yeah? Well, I dare you to yank his beard off.
Bart: Ah, touché! 
[A girl is sitting on Homer's lap now.] 
Girl: I hope you feel better, Santa. 
Homer: Oh, I will when Mrs. Claus' sisters get outta town. Thanks for listenin', kid. 
[Bart jumps in line and finally gets his turn on Santa's lap.] 
Bart: Hey, Santa, what's shaking, man? 
Homer: What's your name, Bart...ner? Uh, little partner? 
Bart: I'm Bart Simpson. Who the hell are you? 
Homer: I'm Jolly Old St. Nick.
Homer: Oh, yeah? We'll just see about that.
[Not knowing that Santa is really Homer, Bart yanks off his beard.] 
Homer: D'oh! 
[Bart is surprised at what he uncovers, and Homer escorts Bart into Santa's workshop for speaking in private, leaving Alfie to cover for him.] 
Bart: Homer! 
Homer: I want a word with you in Santa's workshop, little boy. Cover for me, Alfie. 
[In Santa's workshop.] 
Bart: Don't kill me, Dad. I didn't know it was you. 
Homer: Nobody knows. It's a secret. I didn't get my bonus this year. But to keep the family from missing out on Christmas, I'd do anything.
Bart: I'll say, Dad. You must really love us to sink so low. 
Homer: Now, let's not get mushy, son. I still have a job to do. 
[Homer opens the door.] 
Homer: Hey, little ones. Santa's back. Ho ho--D'oh! Damn it to-- 
[Bart goes with Homer to pick up his check.] 
Homer: Ah, son, one day you're going to know the satisfaction of payday. Receiving a big fat check for a job well done. 
[Homer and Bart walk up to the cashier.] 
Cashier: Simpson, Homer? Here ya go. 
[The cashier hands Homer his paycheck.] 
Homer: Come on, son. Let's go cash this baby and get presents for-- 
[Homer is surprised to learn that his net pay is only $13 (despite his $120 gross pay).] 
Homer: (screams) Thirteen bucks? Hey, wait a minute...
Cashier: That's right. $120 gross. Less Social Security, less unemployment insurance, less Santa training-- 
Homer: Santa training? 
Cashier: Less costume purchase, less beard rental, less Christmas club. 
Homer: But--but-- 
Cashier: See ya next year. 
[While a depressed Homer sits down to figure out what to do with the $13, an excited Barney arrives.] 
Homer: Ooh! 
Bart: Come on, Dad. Let's go home.
Homer: Thirteen bucks? You can't get anything for 13 bucks.
Barney: All right! Thirteen big ones! Springfield Downs, here I come! 
Homer: What? 
Barney: You heard me. I'm goin' to the dog track. I got a hot little puppy in the fourth race. Wanna come? 
Homer: Sorry, Barney. I may be a total washout as a father, but I'm not going to take my kid to a sleazy dog track on Christmas Eve.
Barney: Come on, Simpson. The dog's name is Whirlwind. Ten-to-one shot. Money in the bank.
Homer: Uh-uh.
Bart: Ah, come on, Dad. This can be the miracle that saves the Simpsons' Christmas. If TV has taught me anything, it's that miracles always happen to poor kids at Christmas. It happened to Tiny Tim, it happened to Charlie Brown, it happened to the Smurfs, and it's going to happen to us!
Homer: Well, okay, let's go. Who's Tiny Tim?
[Patty, Selma, Abe Simpson, Marge, Maggie, and Lisa wait for Homer and Bart to come home while watching a The Happy Little Elves Christmas special.]
Elf: (on TV) Hey, Moldy, do you think Santa will be able to find Elf County under all this snow?
Moldy: (on TV) I doubt it, Bubbles. We'll be sad little elves this Christmas.
Lisa: Oh, no!
Abe: Oh, brother.
Selma: (to Marge) Where's your husband?
Patty: Yeah. It's getting late.
Marge: Said he went caroling with Bart.
[Meanwhile, at the dog track.]
Barney and Bart: (singing) We're in the money, we're in the money, we got a lot of what it takes to get along...
Homer: I can't believe I'm doing this.
[Inside the dog track.]
Boy: Can we open our presents now, Dad?
Boy's father: You know the tradition, son. Not till the eighth race.
[With Barney, Homer and Bart.]
Homer: Hey, Barney, which one is Whirlwind?
Barney: Number Six. That's our lucky dog right over there. He's won his last five races.
Homer: What? That scrawny little bag of bones?
Bart: Come on, Dad. They're all scrawny little bags of bones.
Homer: Yeah, you're right.
[Homer sighs.]
Homer: I guess Whirlwind is our only hope for a Merry Christmas.
[Just then, an announcement plays over the P.A. system.]
Man: (on P.A.) Attention, racing fans, we have a late scratch in the fourth race. Number 8, Sir Galahad will be replaced by Santa's Little Helper. Once again, Sir Galahad has been replaced by Santa's Little Helper.
Homer: (gasps) Bart, did you hear that? What a name! Santa's Little Helper! It's a sign! It's an omen!
Bart: It's a coincidence, Dad.
Homer: What are the odds-on Santa's Little Helper?
Ticket Seller: Ninety-nine to one.
Homer: Wow! Ninety-nine times thirteen equals...Merry Christmas!
Bart: I got a bad feeling about this.
Homer: Don't you believe in me, son?
Bart: Uh--
Homer: Come on, boy. Sometimes your faith is all that keeps me going.
Bart: Oh, go for it, Dad.
Homer: That's my boy! 
[Homer puts down all $13 on Santa's Little Helper.]
Homer: Everything on Santa's Little Helper.
[Meanwhile, at home, Patty and Selma talk bad about Homer, while everyone waits for him and Bart.]
Elf: (on TV) Three cheers for Brainy!
Elves: (on TV) Hip hip hooray!
Lisa: Yay!
Abe: Unadulterated pap.
Patty: It's almost 9:00.
Selma: Where's Homer anyway?
Patty: It's so typical of the big doofus to spoil it all.
Lisa: What, Aunt Patty?
Patty: Oh, nothing, dear. I'm just trashing your father.
Lisa: Well, I wish you wouldn't because aside from the fact that he has the same frailties as all human beings, he's the only father I have. Therefore, he is my model of manhood, and my estimation of him will govern the prospects of my adult relationships. So, I hope you bear in mind that any knock at him is a knock at me, and I'm far too young to defend myself against such onslaughts.
Patty: Mm-hmm. Go watch your cartoon show, dear.
[Back at the track, Homer and Bart anxiously await the running of the fourth race.]
Homer: (kisses his ticket) Come on, Bart. Kiss the ticket for good luck, not that we need it.
[Homer starts laughing. Call To Post starts playing.]
Announcer: Here comes Screwy the mechanical rabbit. And they're off!
[As the race begins, Homer and Bart cheer on Santa's Little Helper, but Whirlwind, Barney's pick, is out to an early lead with Santa's Little Helper bringing up the rear.]
Homer: Come on, Santa's Little Helper!
Bart: Come on, dog! Go, man, go!
Announcer: It's Whirlwind in the lead, and coming up on the left is Quadruped, followed by Dog O'War and Fido.
Homer: Go! Come on, boy!
Bart: Go, Santa's Little Helper! Come on, get that rabbit!
Announcer: Dog O'War coming up fast on the outside.
Homer: Come on, Santa's Little Helper!
Bart: Come on, dog! Go, man, go!
Announcer: And with a lock on last place, it's Santa's Little Helper.
[Homer screams.]
Bart: Don't worry, Dad. Maybe this is just for suspense before the miracle happens.
Homer: Come on, you stupid dog! Come on, boy!
Bart: Go, go!
Homer: Run! Run!
Bart: Run! Come on, get that rabbit! Go, go, Santa's Little Helper!
Homer: Go, go, go!
[Homer and Bart quickly realize their chances at winning any money are dashed, as Santa's Little Helper finishes last.]
Announcer: Whirlwind by a country mile, and in second, Chew My Shoe, followed by Dog O'War.
Homer: (screams) Oh, jeez!
Bart: Doesn't seem possible, but I guess TV has betrayed me.
Homer: I don't want to leave till our dog finishes. Ah, forget it. Let's go.
[Homer and Bart look for discarded betting slips, hoping to find one that has been thrown away with a winner but to no avail.]
Homer: Find any winners, son?
Bart: Sorry, Dad.
[Barney pulls up in a car.]
Barney: Hey, hey, Simpson! What'd I tell you? Whirlwind! (belches) Let's go, Daria.
[Barney drives off with Daria. A dejected Bart and Homer head back to their car, when off in the distance they see Les, a racing dog owner, scolding Santa's Little Helper and sending him away for losing once again.]
Les: Beat it! Scram! Get lost! You came in last for the last time!
Bart: (to Homer) Look, Dad, it's Santa's Little Helper.
Les: And don't come back!
[Santa's Little Helper runs to Homer and Bart.]
Homer: Oh, no, you don't! No, no! Get away from me! Uh-uh!
[Santa's Little Helper leaps up into Homer's arms. Bart asks Homer if they can keep the dog. Homer, reluctant at first, quickly warms up to the dog and plans to take him home.]
Bart: Oh, can we keep him, Dad, please?
Homer: But he's a loser! He's pathetic! He's--A Simpson.
[Back at the Simpson home.]
Marge: Hmm. Maybe I should call the police.
Patty: Oh, he'll sober up.
Selma: Yeah. Come staggering home.
Patty: Mm-hmm. Smelling of cheap perfume.
[The door closes.]
Marge: Homer!
[Abe wakes up.]
Abe: What? What the--who the--
Homer: Look, everybody, I have a confession to make.
Selma: This should be good.
Homer: I didn't get my Christmas bonus. I tried not to let it ruin Christmas for everybody, but no matter what I did--
[However, Bart interrupts Homer by introducing the family to Santa's Little Helper and watches the hound run into the room barking.]
Bart: Hey, everybody, look what we got!
Lisa: A dog! All right, Dad!
Marge: God bless him.
[Everyone ignores Homer and falls in love with Santa's Little Helper.]
Lisa: So, love at first sight is possible.
Bart: And if he runs away, he'll be easy to catch.
Marge: Oh, this is the best gift of all, Homer!
Homer: It is?
Marge: Yes. Something to share our love and frighten prowlers.
Lisa: What's his name?
Homer: Number 8--I mean, Santa's Little Helper.
[A photo of the happy family is then taken. During the closing credits, the Simpson family begin singing "Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer", while Maggie is riding on Santa's Little Helper.]
[At the end of a few stanzas, Homer scolds Bart for ruining the song.]
Bart: Like a light bulb!
Homer: Bart!
[The Simpsons continue singing. Homer then scolds Lisa.]
Lisa: Like Shnozzola!
Homer: Lisa!
[The Simpsons continue singing. Bart ruins the song yet again.]
Bart: Like strip poker!
Homer: I'm warning you two!
[The Simpsons continue singing.]
Marge: Take it, Homer!
[Homer eventually sings "Rudolph, get your nose over here, so you can guide my sleigh today".]
Abe: Oh, Homer.
[The Simpsons continue singing. However, in the end, Bart interrupts once again, causing Homer to strangle Bart.]
Bart: (singing) Like Attila the Hu--
Homer: You little-- 
Category:Transcripts