Sawbones Classic Double-Feature: A Medicine Called Christmas 1 & 2

Hello everybody.

Merry Candle Nights to you and yours.

I just wanted to say hello.

Christmas Eve, I guess, according to the clock on the wall.

And I've got a very special holiday treat for you.

It is a holiday reissue.

You know how they put it's a wonderful life back in theaters every year?

Well, this is just like that.

It is parts one and two of a medicine called Christmas.

Sidney and my

uh fantastical holiday uh sort of hallmark parody deal.

We just did our latest iteration in the new Candle Knight special.

If you haven't watched it yet, you still can.

Go to bit.ly forward slash candle nights tickets 2024.

This one is probably one of our wildest yet, but these first two, a little more tame.

But if you want to know where the story starts,

this is how you do it.

So

happy holidays to you and yours.

We love you.

We'll see you next year.

Bye.

Hi.

I'm Rachel McElroy.

And I am pleased to be the narrator for this upcoming production.

From the Hallmark Channel on Sawbones,

a marital tour of misguided medicine, we're very proud to welcome you to the world premiere reading of a new original film for Candle Nights written by Justin and Sidney McElroy.

A medicine called Christmas.

Hang some lights on the tree.

Yeah, that's a Christmas to me.

But you're all around the fire.

Yeah, I don't want any more knock.

Yeah, you're calling me a liar.

But I'm gonna go out for a jog.

That's a Christmas to me.

You and me and her and a tree.

Learning about birds and the bees,

that's a Christmas to me.

Interior.

The medical office of the most prestigious doctor's office in all of New York, Daniel Big City Partners in Health.

We find young business-minded doctor Tabitha Big City as she and her father, Daniel, discuss a new assignment for Tabitha.

I'm sorry, Tabitha.

There's just no way around it.

This is the way it has to be.

Explain to me one more time why I'm spending Christmas in the middle of nowhere instead of how I spend every holiday reading medical journals and watching C-SPAN on mute while I eat leftover Chinese food.

For hundreds of years, the men and women physicians of the Big City family have participated in a holiday doctor exchange program which as I've told you multiple times is the real thing that exists and people do

right no I heard that part

you're going to take your big city attitude and fancy medical medical degree to a place where you can learn about the true meaning of Christmas and help a few people along the way In exchange, we'll be taking on their town doctor who will be teaching us how to be more folksy and approachable, I guess.

Dad, I know everything I need to know about Criddenmond.

Christmas, Tabitha.

It's called Christmas.

Right, Christmas, whatever, fine.

What's the name of this quaint village you're banishing me to again?

Well, the locals call it Poinsetta Point.

Is that what it's really called?

No, it's really called that.

Now have a good trip.

Smash cut to the beautiful, picturesque town of Poinsetta Point.

It looks like if Thomas Kincaid drew the North Pole while high on ecstasy.

Holy crap, is it ever beautiful?

Snow is everywhere and the houses look like they're made of candy and there are like three trains.

Trains for days.

We see the exteriors of local businesses like Wisseaux Family Wreath Shop, garlands and more garlands, even Charlie and Pat's soda fountain.

Did I say soda fountain?

I did.

How quaint is that?

Pretty quaint.

Anyway, Tabitha Big City has just arrived in town and she's struggling to get her huge fancy suitcase up the stairs.

It's probably full of issues of the New Yorker and fair trade coffee.

You know how these city types are.

Anyway, she's having a hard time getting it up the stairs until Phil Pibbles, proprietor of the Pibbles Ben Breakfast,

rushes to her aid.

Oh, hey, let me help with that.

Just missing a page, no problem.

It's okay.

I've got it.

I've got it.

Tabitha drops her suitcase down the stairs.

I don't got it.

Please, madam, allow me, here at the Chateau Pibbles.

Thank you, Paul.

Thank you, Paul.

Here at the Chateau Pibbles, we pride ourselves on providing only the highest level of service.

Well, I appreciate it.

I'll be sure to pass on my compliments to to the Chateau Pibbles management.

Oh, that's not the real name of it.

It's really called the Pibbles Bed and Breakfast.

Oh, I know.

I was just kidding.

Oh, okay.

Well, let me give you the rundown.

Breakfast is served from 7 a.m.

to 7.45.

Now, before that, we have Caroling Practice.

It starts at 5.30 a.m.

and Garland Tyne Club at 6.15.

Whoa, whoa, let me stop you there, Phil.

I'm not much of an early riser.

I'm afraid the Carolers will have to do without an extra alto.

Well,

that's not very festive of you, but

if you're willing to take your health into your hands like that, you're a grown woman.

Well, um, funny you should say that.

I'm actually a physician.

Oh, you're the one filling in for Dr.

C.

Well, welcome.

You got some mighty big boots to fill.

He's really turned this whole town around.

Well, I'll do my best.

Say, you sure you don't need some help with that bag?

You look like you're really struggling.

Oh, not at all.

I'm just moving a little slower thanks to the near-debilitating arthritis in my hands and arms and also legs.

Oh, God.

Yeah, those know-it-all eggheads in the city called it super arthritis.

Back when I was still listening to what they had to say.

Well, please stop by the clinic tomorrow.

I'm sure there's something we can do to help.

Oh, that won't be necessary, Doctor.

Big City.

Tabitha Big City.

Yeah, that sounds about right.

Christmas is just around the corner, so I don't think the arthritis is going to be an issue for me much longer.

Uh, I don't see what that has to do with.

Listen, why don't you go in and get settled?

I'll take the bag up to your room, then lie perfectly still on the floor for three hours and sup silently to myself on account of the super arthritis.

Then I'll finish getting you checked in.

Did you leave your wreath in the cab or what?

My wreath?

Left it at home, huh?

I don't blame you.

I try not to carry anything over 18 ounces if I can avoid it.

I'll have Mrs.

P send up a few options, and you can choose one for your door.

Thanks.

Exterior.

The next morning at the Poinsetta Point Family Clinic, a man, incredibly handsome, rings a bell outside the building.

Money for charity.

Please give money to charity for Christmas!

Uh, excuse me, I'm looking for a great way to help those less fortunate than you?

Well, sort of.

I'm supposed to be working at the Poinsada Point Family Clinic today.

Oh, sure, I can help, no problem.

That'll be $5, please.

What?

$5?

God, what kind of scam are you running here?

Chris shakes his bucket.

The Christmas kind

for poor people?

Oh, right.

Okay, I'm sorry.

Well, I only have a 20.

There is a two-minute long pause.

You know what?

It's Christmas.

I'll spot you, one.

It's right behind you.

Oh,

I get it.

Jokes on the new guy.

Here, let me just unlock the door and help get you settled.

You work here?

Oh, yeah, I'm the office manager.

Collecting money for the needy is just a side hustle.

I'm Chris.

Chris Evergreen.

Tabitha Big City.

Oh, I know.

We've been expecting you.

Hope you got plenty of tinsel and holly berries in that bag.

I don't know that you all need any more decorations.

You guys really go all out for Christmas, huh?

Doesn't everybody?

I think I have a copy of InSync Home for Christmas on Cassette at Home, but that's about as festive as I get.

I don't understand.

I don't know.

I guess it was just never a big deal for our family.

Dad always volunteered to work Christmas Day, and my mom was allergic to trees.

Oh.

Also, my Gam Gam was the one who always went all out for Christmas, and when she died, it just never felt the same.

Okay, so we...

And my mom left my dad for a mall, Santa, on

Christmas?

Arbor Day.

I get it.

Your stocking's a little empty, but I think once you see the power Christmas has in this town, all your days are going to to be merry and bright.

Listen, people are filling up your waiting room.

You better get in there.

You aren't staying?

No, I got to shift at the Christmas tree farm.

Good luck in there.

Dr.

Big City enters the clinic to find a full waiting room.

She is eager to get started.

The nurse puts her first patient in a room and Dr.

Big City nervously knocks and walks in.

Hello, I'm Dr.

Big City.

I'll be taking over things here at the clinic for a bit.

What brings you in today, Miss Crimble?

Oh, please, dear, call me Holly.

We're all like family here in Poinsetta Point.

No need for formality.

Well, that's very nice of you, ma'am.

Thanks.

Now, what seems to be the trouble?

Well, it's just a small thing, really.

I even feel silly for coming in for it, but you don't want to let these things go on too long without getting them checked, just in case, you know.

Anyway, I needed to know how many candy canes you use for a sore throat.

Uh, I'm sorry, what are the candy canes for now?

For my sore throat.

I've hung about a dozen or so around the house since it started, but I forget exactly how many it usually takes.

So wait, are you gonna eat the candy canes for your throat?

Like to soothe it since it's sore?

No, of course not.

You don't eat your Christmas decorations, dear.

I've hung some on the tree and I have a cute little garland with some across the doorframe and I've attached several more to a larger decorative candy cane that hangs over the fireplace, but my throat is still scratchy, so I must need to put up a few more.

I don't want to overdo it, you know, so eight or nine more?

Uh, why don't we start with a quick exam first?

I'll just take a look and maybe feel for enlarged lymph nodes in your neck and...

Oh, no, dear, I don't have time for all that.

I just needed a reminder about the candy canes.

I'm sure it'll be fine.

I'll just go buy another box of them and start hanging them till I feel better.

Uh, if candy canes help sue your throat, I don't see any harm, but I'd really feel better if I could just do a quick exam to ensure this is just a viral illness and it'll go away on its own.

You know, I think I have the answer to this question written down somewhere at home from a checkup I had once before.

I'll just be going now.

Thank you anyway, honey.

It was so nice to meet you.

Take care.

And, well, good luck with your other patients today.

I'm sure you'll get the hang of it.

Ms.

Krimble leaves in a rush, clearly a bit disappointed in the new doctor.

Tabitha is a bit flustered by the strange encounter, but shrugs it off and heads to the next room.

Hi there, I'm Dr.

Big City, and you must be Mr.

Frankson.

It says here in your chart that you have high blood pressure, is that right?

Yeah, Doc, I gotta tell you, nothing is working.

It's still just as high as ever, maybe worse.

Tell me a little about the treatments you've tried so far.

Well, it started with building one gingerbread house.

When that didn't work, I built a second gingerbread house.

By the time I came back from my follow-up, I had built a whole gingerbread neighborhood with little cars and mailboxes and fences made out of licorice and everything.

With all that, my blood pressure was as worse as ever.

Oh, so was this like for stress?

Maybe you had discussed lifestyle changes and stress management and this was related?

It was definitely stressful.

I've never felt worse.

All I do is build things out of gingerbread now.

I have a whole gingerbread city.

There are bridges and parks and skyscrapers.

It's taken over my whole house.

My wife is furious.

I have no time for sleep or exercise.

Mainly, I eat gingerbread pieces for all my meals.

I've gained 40 pounds.

I've run up a huge credit card bill, buying baking supplies and candy for decorating.

No matter how much I build, my pressure just keeps getting worse and worse.

What do I do?

Okay, let's just start with adjusting your doses.

What medication are you taking?

I told you about the gingerbread, right?

Yes, but what pills are you taking for your blood pressure?

Pills?

Yeah, yes, pills.

Medicine.

Pills that are medicine to make your blood pressure go down.

What would they look like?

Well, they all look different, but generally small, round, or oblong.

Can be any color relief.

Gumdrops!

No, what?

No, no, no.

Pills, medicine.

Oh, hold on.

My phone is buzzing.

I gotta take this.

Yeah, hello, honey.

Oh, what's wrong?

Slow Slow down.

Slow down.

Which one fell over?

No.

No, not the gingerbread Walmart.

It collapsed?

And it took out the gingerbread Taco Bell.

Are you kidding me?

And the gingerbread Arby's is on fire.

The gingerbread Arby's is on fire?

Yeah, I'm leaving right now, honey.

Yeah, just keep throwing royal icing on it.

Sorry, Doc.

I gotta go take care of this.

But your blood pressure, we have to do something.

Yeah, yeah, I got it.

Drum cops.

I'll just keep using more drum drums.

Gum drums.

Mr.

Frankson rushes out to deal with the gingerbread fire while Tambitha sits, puzzled by the whole interaction.

She wanders, still befuddled, into the next room to find a man with an obviously broken left arm and a right arm that that appears fixed at an odd angle.

He is also very clearly in pain.

Oh my goodness, your arm.

When did this happen, Mr.

Cameron?

Well, the right one here got broken when my neighbor, Mr.

Gibbler, drove his one-horse open sleigh into a drifted bank and got upsot.

So I drove my one-horse open sleigh over there to help him, and I ended up upsot, too.

So we're both in that bank trying to help each other get un-upsot when I broke the darn thing.

It seems like maybe it didn't heal exactly straight.

Can you use it at all?

Oh yeah, I can do this

and this.

How was that break managed?

Oh well after I talked to the doctor I went straight to work on putting up the Christmas lights.

I got Santa and his reindeer up pretty easily and the inflatables weren't too much trouble.

But I ended up in a bit of a pickle when I was putting the lights on the roof.

It was hard to maneuver up there, what, with the arm and all, and wouldn't you know it, I ended up falling off the ladder and breaking the other one.

Well, we need to get an x-ray of that right away to determine the extent of the fracture and whether or not we can just get away with, you know, setting it and casting it.

A cast?

No, ma'am.

No cast for me.

It's three days until Christmas.

I still have the bushes to cover and the LED projectors for the front of the house.

Not to mention all the extra lights I'm going to need to put up to cure this arm.

Well, we have to to set it or else it'll heal crooked like the other one.

That one is a much bigger problem.

We're going to need a specialist to see you to figure out if we need to re-break it and set it properly.

Break my right arm again.

Are you kidding me?

I have a broken arm and you want to go and break the other one that just healed.

What kind of quack are you?

Where's my doctor anyway?

Chris Evergreen, having heard the commotion from the exam room, knocks on the door and then enters the scene.

Hey, there, Kip, no need to get all worked up.

I'm sure this is just a misunderstanding.

Our new doc here has a good heart.

She's just still learning the ropes of our little town, is all.

Chris, thank goodness you're here.

I was beginning to feel like I was in some fancy schmancy hospital in the big city.

She was talking about Cass and breaking my arm, and here it is three days to Christmas, and I still have to get up the old penguin nativity set in my yard.

That's right, you do, and I wager that's just what Dr.

C would prescribe for that arm anyway.

You are so right, Chris.

I'm going to get on that right now.

Thanks, Doc.

Sorry I got so worked up there.

This thing just hurts like the Dickens, you know?

Oh, well, Merry Christmas.

But

wait!

No!

Your arm, your other arm, we have to do something about your broken arms.

Hey, Doc, I don't want to interrupt your work, but what would you say to a walk and a nice cup of cocoa, huh?

But the patients in the waiting room.

Oh, they'll be fine.

I have them all out there working on paper garlands and letter to Sam as we speak.

Besides, I think I need to fill you in a bit on our little town here.

I am kind of in the weeds.

Come on, it'll clear your head.

Extra marshmallows on me.

Our next scene opens softly focused on a picturesque small town street.

Piles of snow, I mean absolute mounds of the stuff,

line the sidewalks.

The lampposts are strewn with garland and twinkling lights, and the shop windows are filled with candles and trees and wreaths and toy traints.

Lots of toy traints.

Chris and Tabitha are strolling along listening to the Christmas carols that are also the soundtrack, but we doubt the audience will notice.

They're clutching mugs of hot chocolate in their fuzzy mitten hands and flakes of snow drift around them, but don't actually land on anything because they are just CGI.

So, Chris, honestly, what's the deal with this place?

I had some of the strangest appointments in the office this morning.

Oh, Oh, I'm sure our little town isn't much like the big city that you're used to.

Well, yes, but that isn't exactly what I meant.

It was much more difficult than that.

Well, this cocoa here might not be Starbucks, but my dad opened Greg's Cookie and Cocoa Emporium over 30 years ago, and we've been using the same family recipe ever since.

I can assure you that the number one ingredient has always been love.

Again, that isn't really what I'm talking about, but I I will grant you that Greg makes a great cup of cocoa.

Who's Greg?

Your dad from Greg's Cookie and Cocoa Emporium?

His name's not Greg?

Well, well then who's Greg?

I don't know.

Who's Target?

See, I really don't want to be offensive, but this place is just off.

Everybody seems obsessed with the holidays, and I don't mean in a festive way.

I mean in a way that seems to be dangerous to their health.

It's almost like they think that doing Christmassy stuff will somehow treat their illnesses.

I know that must sound really bizarre.

No, not at all.

I think you're beginning to understand the true meaning of Poinsettia Point.

See, a lot of towns celebrate the holidays with decorations and cookies and caroling and all that, but they don't embrace the true spirit of Christmas.

That's a shame.

Oh no, wait.

Is this like some war on Christmas thing?

No,

I just mean that Christmas is medicine.

So like,

So like being cheery and having a positive attitude is good for you, that kind of thing?

Not at all.

See,

Christmas is literally medicine.

See, okay.

The way Dr.

C explained it to me, disease is really just a result of weakness in your brain receptors.

That's completely wrong.

So all you have to do to get healthy and stay that way is to make sure the receptors are strong again.

And the best way to strengthen your brain receptors is with Christmas cheer.

So holiday activities like decorating the tree and and singing carols can actually cure you as long as you do them enough.

That may be the dumbest fake medicine thing I've ever heard.

You can't possibly believe that.

And here I thought you big city folk were supposed to be open-minded.

I am.

I mean, I am to actual medical advancements, but this is completely ridiculous.

You know what?

If you think you know so much better, why don't you come to the tree lighting ceremony in the town square tonight, huh?

Everybody will be there and you can see just how well we've been doing following dr c's advice yeah you know what i will come if for no other reason then there may be some very ill people in this town who are in need of actual medical assistance that's a christmas spirit

it's a date then no it's not a date it is in no way a date please understand that this is not a date okay then wink wink i'll see you i'll see you later at our not a date where we definitely won't fall in love forever and ever.

Bye!

Before Tabitha can protest any further, Chris downs the last of his cocoa and sprints off to his next job, his small stand at the year-round Christmas Bazaar where he makes and sells hand-blown glass ornaments

for orphans.

Tabitha makes her way back to her room at the bed and breakfast, still in a bit of a daze.

She needs to talk to someone who will make some sense.

Tabitha decides to FaceTime with her sisters.

Beth, Mandy, oh, it's so good to see you both.

I'm losing it here, sisters.

You have no idea what this place is like.

Let me guess.

Lovely, quaint, snow-dusted, and cozy.

The people all have warm smiles and big hearts.

Sounds awful.

No, no, the people are weird.

I mean, it looks nice, but everyone thinks that Christmas is medicine and they do holiday stuff to treat themselves.

Oh, Tabitha, you're just not used to doing the Christmas thing.

You know our family has always utterly rejected the entire holiday and refused to acknowledge its existence, even in the most minor way.

This is just new to you.

But it's more than just our family's complete distaste for all things Christmas.

It's like I was telling Chris today.

Oh, who's Chris?

He sounds cute.

He's the office manager at the clinic and well, he actually has a startling number of other jobs too.

But anyway, he was kind kind of showing me the ropes, and he is so adorable.

I haven't told you what he looks like.

How long have you been dating Chris?

Well, I'm obviously not dating him.

I just got here yesterday.

You literally saw me two days ago.

Oh, Tabitha, you're always so afraid to commit when it comes to love.

Yeah, you'll keep an amazing guy like Chris at arm's length no matter how perfect he is for you in every single way, just because you're scared of getting hurt again.

It's time for you to open up your heart to someone new.

It's time for you to find love for Christmas.

What?

What could you possibly be talking about?

I'm married.

I have been for six years.

Listen, listen, Tabitha, you need to let the magic of that picture perfect small town where everyone is beautiful fill your heart with Christmas cheer.

Then you need to move there and stay there forever.

What?

Stay here?

Beth, what are you?

Exactly.

Just stay right there, married to Chris, and happy forever.

Okay, I'm getting really worried about you both.

What are you talking about?

Are you drunk?

Is this a joke?

Good one, Tebby.

By the way, the corporate hospital office called and offered you that big doctor manager job that you've always wanted.

Really?

Are you serious?

That's amazing.

I'll call them back right away to accept.

Oh, oh, no, no, no.

Don't worry.

We already told them that you couldn't take it because you are never coming back to the city and are going to stay in that little town with a big heart forever and ever happy with your new husband Chris Evergreen.

What?

No, what are you thinking?

What is wrong with you both?

And how did you know his full name?

Okay, goodbye.

We love you, sis.

Bye.

Merry Christmas.

Say hi to Chris for us.

Suddenly, there's a knock at the door.

She opens it to find Chris standing there, smiling, ready to escort her to the tree lighting ceremony.

Look, Chris, I need to get home.

I can't do this right now.

Things are very confusing.

I'm sorry to interrupt, but it's kind of an emergency.

We really need our doctor in the town square right away.

Oh, okay.

Well, I'll grab my bag and we'll head there now.

It's the evening of the tree lighting ceremony and the spectacle is almost too much to take in.

On the Hallmark budget, That means that eight people will appear on screen at the same time.

Beautiful children have well-meaning snowball fights as they duck and weave between tents filled with the very sick-looking citizens of Poinsetta Point.

Chris is covering Tabitha's eyes as he leads her into the middle of the ceremony.

He removes his hands triumphantly.

Ta-da!

Is this the emergency?

I just didn't want you to miss it.

Oh, God, what am I wearing?

Aren't they great?

They're therapeutic.

You should feel your circulation improving already.

Chris,

do we match?

Huh?

Okay now, this is getting spooky.

Are you feeling this vibe or what?

I'm gonna be sick.

Well then lucky thing you find yourself at the healthiest night of the year.

The Poinsettia Point Christmas tree lighting ceremony.

What in the...

So let me give you the grand tour.

Our first stop is the cookie decoration booth, which is probably the tastiest way I can think of to treat your asthma.

Every day the patients pick up their piping bags and they don't put them down until they find themselves breathing a little bit easier.

And

how long does that normally take?

I'm sure it'll happen soon.

Oh,

this is fun over here.

It's the elf on a shelf shack.

You search all through the shack until you find that rascally little scamp.

And then you eat it to cure your gout.

Oh,

okay.

So over here, this is a little more sauntinous here.

This is a little more somber.

It's a tent for our most serious cases.

Basically, you just stand in the dark while a little girl reads that line from It's a Wonderful Life about angels getting their wings over and over and over again.

It's

intense.

I wouldn't get too close.

Actually, let's step away and over to the Carolers.

On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me eight maids of milking.

On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me eight maids of milking.

Why are they just singing the eighth day of Christmas?

On the eighth day of Christ, Miss My True Love gave to me.

Our studies have shown that it's the most therapeutic.

See, we're science-based too.

Hey, let's keep those maids of milking, folks.

Oh, we will.

And don't worry.

Your secret is still safe with me, Prince Remington.

And I shall be forever in your debt for that, Mr.

Goldberg.

Oh, yeah I'm also secretly a prince

it's uh

it's a really long story isn't it

um so when when do they light the tree oh every seven minutes

it's so inspirational and beautiful it's not really medically sound to do it only once a year so every seven minutes one of us flips the switch and we all gasp and tear up a little bit and spontaneously break into silent at night.

I have to go.

Wait, wait, wait, not yet.

It's your turn to light it.

Speech!

Speech!

Tabitha reluctantly takes the stage.

Hi.

Okay.

So I just wanted to say that I never really believed in the whole Christmas thing until I came to your town.

Woo!

That's my girlfriend!

No!

No, Chris, never!

Never!

Where was I?

Okay, right.

So anyway, none of this is anything at all.

In fact, it's the dumbest thing I've ever seen in my whole life.

You're all going to be dead by your mid-40s, and everyone is going to tell ghost stories about the weird Christmas city where everyone was an idiot and then they died and now it's haunted.

I'm going home.

Best of luck turning into ghosts.

Well,

looks like I'm just in time.

Dr.

C!

It's Dr.

C.

What?

You're...

You know what?

Don't answer.

I'm going to find an Uber.

I just...

I just have to ask.

How are my patients?

Oh, dear, sweet little Tabitha.

They're extremely bad.

Merry Cridmant to all,

and to all a good night.

The end.

Lots of Christmas to me.

You and me and her in a dream.

Learning about birds and the bee.

That's a Christmas to me.

You know, we've been doing my brother, my brother, me for 15 years.

And

maybe you stopped listening for a while.

Maybe you never listened.

And you're probably assuming three white guys talking for 15 years.

I know where this has ended up.

But no.

No, you would be wrong.

We're as shocked as you are that we have not fallen into some sort of horrific scandal or just turned into a big crypto thing.

Yeah.

You don't even really know how crypto works.

The only NFTs I'm into are naughty, funny things, which is what we talk about on My Brother, My Brother, and me.

We serve it up every Monday for you if you're listening.

And if not, we just leave it out back and goes rotten.

So check it out on Maximum Fun or wherever you get your podcasts.

All right, we're over 70 episodes into our show.

Let's learn everything.

So let's do a quick progress check.

Have we learned about quantum physics?

Yes, episode 59.

We haven't learned about the history of gossip yet, have we?

Yes, we have.

Same episode, actually.

Have we talked to Tom Scott about his love of roller coasters?

Episode 64.

So how close are we to learning everything?

Bad news, we still haven't learned everything yet.

Oh, we're ruined!

No, no, no, it's good news as well.

There is still a lot to learn.

Woo!

I'm Dr.

Ella Hubber.

I'm regular Tom Lum.

I'm Caroline Roper.

And on Let's Learn Everything, we learn about science and a bit of everything else too.

And although we haven't learned everything yet, I've got a pretty good feeling about this next episode.

Join us every other Thursday on Maximum Fun.

From Justin and Sidney McIlroy.

Co-authors of A Medicine Called Christmas, comes a new holiday fable to delight a generation.

Gather the family and prepare for a medicine called Christmas to a Royal Pain.

Hang some lights on the tree.

Yeah, that's a Christmas to me.

Put your arm around the fire.

Yeah, I don't want any more no

liar.

Well, I'm gonna go out for a jog.

Laps of Christmas to me.

You and me and her in a tree.

What about birds and the bees.

That's a Christmas to me.

Zoom in on Tabitha Big City.

After her unsuccessful attempt to convince the residents of Poinsetta Point that Christmas could not cure human diseases,

Tabitha fled her medical practice in America and decided to ply her trade in developing nations where she could make more of an impact and where tinsel was less plentiful.

Doctors Without Borders has just deployed her to the newest assignment, the tiny European nation of Batavia, nestled just between Austria and Spain and Slovakia.

You know, that whole sort of area, it's there.

Almost before her plane finishes taxiing along the dilapidated runway, Tabitha is shocked to see a familiar face, Phil Pibbles, the former proprietor of Pibbles Bed and Breakfast.

Here, here, ma'am, let me help you with that.

Phil?

Phil Pibbles?

Guy, that's me, ma'am, but I'm sorry, I can't place your point, Zettia, Point.

I was assigned to be the town doctor.

You helped me carry my bags.

Oh,

of course.

Miss Big City,

how could I have forgotten?

What are you doing halfway across the world?

There was nothing for me in Poinsetta Point.

I knew there had to be a place somewhere in the world where a man is still free to live the way he sees fit, to keep sacred the values of faith and family, to leave his Christmas lights up until February.

Batavia is that place.

Here, I'll take your bags.

Wait, how's your, what was it, super arthritis?

Oh, markedly worse, thank you.

Every movement is an agony, a silent, torturous prayer to a God that feeds on my suffering.

I'm coping a bit better lately, though.

Uh-oh, that's good to hear.

Did you start some new anti-inflammatory?

Nope, I've been distracted by my adult onset mega rickets.

Yep, a severe lack of vitamin D has my legs bowed out into permanent question marks.

The question is, of course, how I managed to open my eyes day in and day out when consciousness brings only a hellish symphony of physical and spiritual agony that borders on the transcendent.

This is, of course, a question for which neither God nor man would dare to answer.

So I'll continue to twirl in a waking purgatory in which my corporeal form is animated only by my own misery and fear of what lies beyond.

Anyway, the Elantra is right over here on the left.

After a long drive scored only by silence and Phil Pibble's low moans of pain, Tabitha is deposited at her hotel, the Count Galoo Family Fun Center and Mainly Casino.

Exhausted from a long day's travel, she flips on the lights of her room and is shocked to find two sheep, a mule, and several robed strangers gathered around a wooden crib stuffed with hay.

Oh, I'm so sorry.

I thought this was my room.

There must have been a mix-up.

No, No, no, hold up there, Toots.

A voice beckons Tabitha from the crib.

There, perfectly positioned in the hay, just above a headless baby doll, is the face of a bearded man in his late 30s.

No need to rush off.

We're just the living nativity.

My what?

Living nativity.

There's one in every room in the hotel to help guests get into that festive spirit.

So unto you, a me is born.

Pretty killer, right?

So how long are you here, Jesus?

33 years, Tops.

I'm just kidding.

We're always here.

We wait to use the can until you're out of the room, if that's your worry.

And the maids clean up the mule dookie, like, what do you think, Greg?

Like, twice a day?

Yeah, like twice a day.

But what do you do?

Yes, we all close our eyes while you're in the shower.

It's in our contract, not a concern.

And while I sleep?

We work odd jobs just to make ends meet this isn't technically a paying gig so at least I'll have a little privacy then oh no we stay in the room and work on our laptops

little transcribing a little drop shipping whatever comes up no until you check out we're just like here

actually my body from the neck down is standing on a stool in a room on the floor below so So I really don't have a lot of options.

You and me are going to get real familiar.

Perfect.

Yep, just like dad made me.

I hate this time of year.

That's cool.

It's just my birthday.

No, no, sorry.

It's just, see, I'm a doctor.

And last December, I was sent to a town called Pointsetta Point to, I think, learn the true meaning of Christmas.

It's still not completely clear.

I met a guy named Chris Ever.

Woo!

It's getting juicy.

No, no, no, no.

It's not like that.

He was a maniac that believed Christmas could be used as medicine and had tricked an entire town into believing it, too.

It was honestly the most dispiriting moment of my medical career.

I've traveled the world helping people since then, but I still can't shake the nightmares.

Okay, you trailed off there.

Are you expecting me to say something in character?

I mean, no pressure.

I audited a few classes at UCB.

Okay.

Just know,

advise you in the manner of your Lord and Savior in all his perfect wisdom.

You know what?

Never mind.

I'm going to go to bed.

No, no, no, wait, wait.

I'll come up with something.

Just ask yourself, what would me do, you know, like the bracelet?

Tabitha rises early the next morning and sets out for her first day of relief work.

She is not well rested in the slightest, but she had to get out of her room.

Jesus kept her up half the night trying to remember what inspirational things he had said in the Bible, and she quickly learned that twice-a-day mule dookie cleanings was just not cutting it.

She arrives at the temporary hospital that had been set up to accommodate the increasing number of sick residents.

It is an abandoned Hardy's.

Tabitha walks from cot to cot, assessing the patients before stopping and kneeling beside one.

Hi, Mr.

Soriano, is it?

Yes, who's there?

I barely have the strength to open my eyes.

Good morning, sir.

I'm Dr.

Big City from Doctors Without Borders.

I hope you don't mind, but I was hoping to ask you a few questions.

You see, I've read about you in all the major medical journals, and you're fascinating.

Oh, thank you.

No, no, that's bad.

How are you feeling?

Well, overall, I would say very, very bad.

As you know, I am now officially the weakest human in medical history.

But after weeks of Sarapi, I can move my tongue to speak again.

So that's something.

That's wonderful.

I have to ask, though, how did this happen?

It's a mystery to me, too, yeah.

Yeah, but to get pellagra and beriberi and scurvy and merasmus and quashiorcor and deficiencies of zinc, copper, chromium, fluoride, iodine, iron, manganese, selenium, calcium, potassium, magnesium, phosphorus, sodium, and vitamin A, B, C, D, E, and K all at the same time.

It's basically impossible.

Like I say, it's a mystery.

I was a healthy, strapping mind full of vigor before all this, and I eat a very balanced diet.

Could you elaborate?

Well, I consume all the major food groups.

I'm not trying to be pushy, but could you expand on that a bit?

Well, heck, Doc, you know, all the food groups: sugar, butter, peanut butter, snickerdoodle, macaron, chocolate chip, thumbprint, gingerbread, the frosted ones from Walmart, the frosted ones from Cobra.

You know all the food groups.

Wait, those are just different types of cookies.

Well, y'all.

Hey, listen, if cookies are good enough for the big guy, they're good enough for me.

The big guy?

Are you kidding me here?

What kind of doctor are you?

Santa, of course.

Santa, the big guy, the red suit, the beard that's white, and the special night, and all of that.

If milk and cookies are going up for Santa, they're going to go enough for Robert Soriano.

So you were drinking milk, too.

You know, that's odd.

You would have thought...

Oh, no.

Not the milk part, just the cookies.

Well, why not the milk?

I don't like milk.

Oh, oh, okay.

Well.

Look, Doc, can I go back to resting my face muscles now?

All this talking has made me just worn out.

Sure, sure.

Sorry.

Just let me know if there's anything I can do.

Tabitha is shaken by this strange encounter.

This patient's belief in a Christmas-themed diet reminds her of the horrible experience she had in Poinsetta Point, and she begins to fear that something is very wrong here in Batavia.

As her mind trails off in worry, she rounds a corner and runs face first into someone carrying a very large cardboard box.

Tabitha catches herself against the wall and begins to apologize to the stranger when he lowers the heavy box to the floor and looks back up at her, smiling.

Tabitha realizes that she is staring into the eyes of none other than Chris Evergreen.

Tabitha?

I'm so sorry I didn't see you there.

What are you?

Are you following me?

What's your deal, man?

I took a self-defense elective in high school.

Back off.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, who just hold your horses there, Dr.

Big City.

I've been in Batavia for a while now.

I had no idea you were coming.

Heck, I'm probably here for the same reasons you are.

There are people here in need of help.

And helping people, it's what I do.

Tabitha, still confused and frankly pretty freaked out, looks down at the big cardboard box at her feet and gasps in horror as she sees a red and green sweater with two elves building a snowman knitted on the front spilling out of the top.

You and your Christmas crap!

You're doing it again!

You're trying to fix these poor sick people with Christmas, you twisted, weird moron.

Oh, no, no, no.

You got it all wrong, Tabitha.

I'm a different person now.

I left all that Christmas stuff behind.

Then what about that horrible sweater?

I mean, horrible is a little much, isn't it?

I'm a bit rusty, but it's still decent craftsmanship.

And you're probably going to go wrap it around poor Mr.

Soriano over there and heal them and shake some jingle bells over him in place of some IVs or some other crap like that, right?

Oh, no, no, no, no, no.

I mean, it is for Robert, but just because he's cold all the time from the complete lack of any human muscle tissue at all.

I realize the error of my ways, Tabitha.

I know you're right about real medicine being real medicine and not Christmas stuff.

Hey, if you don't believe me, just look under the sweater.

Tabitha leans over and nervously moves the hideous sweater.

She is surprised to find that underneath it are actual medical supplies.

Well, honestly, it's just a bunch of loose pills and some open band-aids, but still, medical supplies.

Oh, wow, you were telling the truth.

This is actual medicine, sort of.

I told you, Tab, I'm a new man now who's just trying to make the world a better place.

Hey, by any chance, you wouldn't be interested in having dinner with this new man tonight, would you?

Wow, Chris.

I think maybe we got some signals crossed here.

That's not really where I am right now.

And did you just call me Tab?

Never mind that.

Just have dinner with me.

See, I have a plan to save this place and make everything better.

Just meet me at the only remaining restaurant in the whole country tonight at 8, and I'll explain everything.

Before Tabitha can protest further, Chris rushes off with his box of pills.

Tabitha

stares blankly for a moment considering her options and then shrugs as she resigns herself to yet another odd evening with Chris Evergreen.

The day rushes by in a blur of strange diagnoses that she would be more acquainted with seen in history books than in exam rooms.

Sooner than she would like, the workday is over and she finds herself walking into the last remaining restaurant in the tiny destitute country, Noel Bisqui.

Chris waves her over to his table and gestures for her to sit down.

He has at least had the courtesy to order her a beer already.

Oh, I'm so happy you came.

I have to admit, I really wasn't sure if you would, but that's ridiculous, right?

I mean, with these looks.

What gal wouldn't show?

Am I right?

Let's not, Chris.

I came because you said you had a plan to fix this place, and I am a doctor and bound to help people by an oath and all of that.

So just tell me what's up.

Well, first you have to understand the way things work here.

Do you remember the Poinsettia point, all the...

Christmas's medicine and stuff?

Yeah, I remember it, dude.

It ruined me.

I've spent the last few years wandering the globe trying to find who I am and where I'm meant to be and regain the joy I once found in medicine that you weirdos took from me.

Hey, I'm sorry about all that.

I truly, truly am.

Chris reaches across the table in an attempt to hold Tabitha's hand, and she just shakes her head and mouths the word no

before downing her beer in one big gulp, which she is dismayed to realize is actually eggnog.

So anyway, this place is sort of suffering from the same thing as the point, but worse.

The new ruler is a terrible despot.

He has raided all the country's savings to spend on Christmas stuff.

Our education budget just went for tree ornaments.

Our defense spending was for a bunch of nutcrackers and toy soldiers.

Instead of infrastructure, money went into inflatables.

So you've seen what's become of our health care system.

It's cookies and candy canes and tinsel and twinkling lights all over again.

Something has to be done.

That's terrible.

But it makes sense as to why the whole country has taken such a downturn in the last few years.

Yeah, guys, just the worst.

He blew all the money we had allotted for Social Security Security on a big Christmas parade just so he could show off all of our holiday spirit power.

Hundreds of Christmas floats and Christmas balloons, Christmas bands and Christmas tanks.

Wait, wait, wait, wait.

Christmas tanks?

Yeah.

You know.

Christmas tanks.

Anyway, it's a total mess.

Before Tabitha has a chance to ask for more information on the aforementioned Christmas tanks, the winder arrives carrying a baking sheet with fresh, warm, undecorated sugar cookies cut into adorable holiday shapes.

He lowers it to the table with a flourish and begins to arrange bottles of red and green icing as well as tiny shakers of sanding sugar, non-perriers, and candy snowflakes.

Wait, I'm sorry, you must have the wrong table.

We we haven't ordered any food yet.

It's a prefix, madame, as it always is here at Noel, Beast Queak.

Uh that that's fine, I I guess, but we haven't eaten any dinner yet.

You never brought us the main course?

I'm sorry.

The main course, the food, the dinner food, not the dessert.

Are you asking for something other than cookies?

At these words, a collective horrified gasp can be heard through the restaurant.

A fork clatters, it is dropped to a plate.

The silence lengthens.

A hawk cries somewhere in the distance.

No, no, no, no, no, never.

She's just new as all.

She hasn't been here before.

Cut her some slack.

She'll be fine with the menu, I promise.

Well, I guess.

If that is the case, we will forget your indiscretion this one time.

You may go ahead and enjoy.

The waiter does not leave, but stands and stares at them intently.

Tabitha nervously reaches for a gingerbread man and brings the cookie slowly to her mouth to take a bite.

The waiter draws in a tense breath.

No, no, no, no, no.

Don't eat it.

Just decorate it.

Just pick up some frosting and decorate the darn cookie.

Tabitha holds the cookie suspended in mid-air, inches from her mouth.

She reaches for the icing and begins haphazardly piping on thick red layers in a design that almost resembles half a sweater vest or perhaps a fatal stab wound.

Truly embarrassing.

Now, remember, stay quiet as you decorate so that we can hear the montage music.

And be certain to smile warmly at each other periodically from different angles so that we have options.

And as always, don't eat them.

Don't ever eat them.

Well, then who eats them?

They're for the lays at church, of course.

Jeez!

The waiter throws up his hands in exasperation and then excuses himself to get the check.

And Tabitha and Chris once again find themselves alone.

Yikes!

I hope the prince doesn't find out out you tried to order real food.

Uh, what would I get fined?

Beheaded, probably.

What?

You know what?

Probably not.

He doesn't want an international incident, but who knows?

The prince is a monster.

He only cares about celebrating Christmas as intensely as possible.

He doesn't care who gets hurt as a result.

I only hope that you and he never have to cross paths.

I bet you're one of his least favorite people on earth.

Excuse me, sir, but here is your check.

Also,

you seem to have left your crown in the urinal again.

Oh, God.

Crap.

Yeah, okay.

You got me.

I am the prince.

But I did have you going for a little bit there, right?

Chris, you, Chris Evergreen, are the prince of Batavia?

Yeah, most deaf, most deaf, most deaf.

Yeah.

It's a bit of a King Ralph situation.

Literally, moments after you left Winsettia Point, I got a telegram that all the Batavia Evergreens had died from smallpox.

Chris, smallpox was eradicated globally in 1979 thanks to vaccines.

Yeah.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

It was like

a nostalgia thing or something.

Anyway, I got called up to the majors and decided to make a country where I and those like me would still be free to celebrate Christmas.

What are you talking about?

Who kept you from celebrating?

Why,

you did, Tabitha.

Don't you know?

Know what?

Oh, I forgot.

You haven't been back home since that night.

Poor sweet Tabitha.

You insisting that night that Christmas wasn't medicine triggered a crisis of Christmas cheer that soon spread nationwide.

I'm sorry to be the one to break the news, but because of the actions of you, Tabitha Big City, Christmas is illegal in America.

That is

the dumbest thing I've ever heard in my entire life.

It's all true, Tabitha.

Chestnuts, ban.

Candy canes, ban.

Those little butter cookies in the blue tin that your grandma puts all her sewing stuff in.

Banned.

And it's all thanks to you and your highfalute in big city ways.

I guess you finally won the war on Christmas.

I'm going to go back to the hotel.

Not so fast, Mrs.

Big City.

You are at the slice, Miss Curious why you've been brought here?

I assumed it's because your medical infrastructure was basically non-existent, which I now suspect is due to the country being run by a sentient Yule log.

You cut to the core of me, Tabitha.

But no, we don't need your allopathic voodoo.

We've got hearts full of Christmas.

Cheer.

No, I brought you here because you're the one who killed Christmas, and the way I figure it, you're the one who's going to bring it back.

There's absolutely no way on earth that I'm helping you with literally anything.

So again, I'm headed back to my room.

Guards, seize her!

An uncomfortable minute passes.

Guards?

Phil?

I know, I know you're the only guard.

Could you just...

Could you hurry up the seizing a little bit?

I know, the adult onset mega rickets.

I get it.

I do.

I just.

Okay, so you're sitting down.

Just taking a little break there, huh, champ?

Okay, that's fine.

No biggie.

Are you crying?

Okay, God, just let it let him sit.

Let him sit.

I'll go to your castle.

Abandoned toys or us, but same difference.

As Chris and Tabitha enter the main foyer of the Toys Are, I mean, the castle,

they are greeted by an imperial-looking woman in Christmas-themed robes and wearing a crown on her head.

She is already staring coldly

as she approaches.

So, you are the little American tart who thinks she is good enough for my little Chris.

Hmm.

I'm sorry.

You should be, commoner.

Who are you now?

I've been so excited for this moment.

I just can't believe it's really happening.

Okay, Tabitha, meet my mom, Queen Evergreen.

Mom, this is Tabitha, the doctor girl that I told you so much about.

I would say charmed to meet you, but as you may be able to tell, I am most certainly not.

I think there's a bit of a misunderstanding here,

Your Highness.

We are not together.

This is sort of a, I was brought here by guards against my will situation, if you get my drift.

So the little Yankee peasant thinks she is the one who is too good for the bona fide prince.

Is that your drift?

Okay, what is wrong with all you people?

You people?

So prejudiced against Batavians, too, I see.

Her real catch this one.

Oh, mom, don't be so hard on her.

She is a doctor, and she's gonna help me bring Christmas back to America.

Okay, this is the second time you've said that.

I have to ask, why in the world would I want to help you?

Mom, would you give me in tabs a second, please?

I need a little privacy here.

Oh, no trouble.

You basic.

My only.

My only dear son.

I'll just go hide in my room like a ghost.

Don't mind me.

Just your mother who gave up everything, advocated her actual crown so you could be in charge and do your Christmas thing.

But no trouble at all.

I'll just go with her quietly in the corner while you flirt with a little street urchin.

Don't mind me.

I've just been blowing up beach balls all day.

Queen Evergreen leaves, but you can still hear her guilt trip for several minutes longer from the other side of the castle.

Oh, look, Tabitha, I know you're going to be helping me because no matter what you say, I know the Christmas spirit is still hiding somewhere in that big gucci heart of yours.

I just hadn't been able to figure out how to get to it until now.

With that, Chris takes a bag off an abandoned Toys R Us display case and reaches inside slowly.

He begins to hum Hark the Herald, like the Peanuts characters do in the Christmas movie, as he reveals the contents of the bag to Tabitha.

It is a small snow globe.

It is clearly old and a bit scratched, but inside, the snow still swirls around a perfect little family skating on a frozen pond.

Tabitha takes the snow globe, her hands trembling a bit.

This can't be real.

How could you have found this?

It's the last present my mom ever gave me for Christmas before she left my dad for that mall Santa on Arbor Day.

It's my last memory of what Christmas when it meant something to me.

So like, does that make you want to change your mind then?

I mean, does that make you want to help me?

Well, I don't, I don't know.

Maybe.

I think.

Yeah, I think maybe I do care about Christmas after all.

Oh,

okay, this is great.

I mean, I really thought it would take a little more effort.

I can't say I'm disappointed, but I do feel a little bad about plan B now.

Plan B?

I sort of kidnapped your dad.

I had him thrown in the dungeon, and I was gonna threaten to kill him if you didn't comply.

Tabitha's dad, Mr.

Big City, is led into the room in chains.

Oh God, Dad!

Tabitha, honey, thank goodness you are here.

Are you okay?

I am now that I know that Christmas will be saved.

Oh no.

Yes, sir.

That dungeon was no treat and all you could really, and you all could really do with a bathroom and maybe some water down there somewhere, or even just a floor that isn't constantly damp.

But it was all worth it in the end.

If my kidnapping and imprisonment for seven months

is what it takes to bring Christmas back to the good old US of A, then sign me up.

So they got to you too?

Only if you mean that by they got to my big gucci heart with Christmas spirit and goodwill, then yes, they sure did.

Also, they brainwashed me.

I'm fairly certain.

But who cares anymore?

Christmas!

Mr.

Big City is led off singing deck the halls at the top of his lungs as Tabitha hangs her head in defeat.

Slowly, she turns to Chris.

Okay, I quit.

What's your plan?

You're going to like the plan, though.

It's a really good plan.

It doesn't really sound like I have much choice.

Yeah, so I figure to get everyone's attention, if we're gonna make a real impact in the U.S., you know, the whole world is watching, you know, I'm gonna do something that the all-world media will be forced to cover.

Chris, that sounds terrifying.

Please just think about pumpkin pie.

Sorry, tomorrow night at 8 p.m., Phil's grandma, Nana Pibbles, is going to make

the world's best pumpkin pie.

So, how does that do

anything?

The world's best, Tabtha.

You think they're going to be able to ignore that?

You think there's any news station on the planet that's going to miss showing their viewers the pumpkin pie that makes all others look like simple piles of squash and bread?

This is all nothing, obviously, but how can you even prove that it's the world's best pumpkin pie?

It's right here in the Blessed Redeemer Baptist Church 1979 Family Cookbook.

See?

Nana Nana Pibbles recipe for world's best pumpkin pie.

Are you saying that Nana Pibbles is a liar, Tabitha?

I guess not.

So just the fine people of the Blessed Redeemer Baptist Church, huh?

Dang, that's cold, Tabitha, even for you.

So what?

I'm supposed to take a big bite and give a thumbs up to the camera.

Done, grandma, this pumpkin pie is creamy.

United us all as a planet and has just the right amount of clove.

No, Tabitha, the pie is just the appetizer.

The main course will be humble pie.

So the pie isn't the dessert, it's an appetizer for the pie that follows the initial pie.

Is there a dessert as like an as-yet unnamed third pie?

No, you're going to announce to the world that you're very sorry for killing Christmas and that Christmas rules, and also it's medicine.

No,

five minutes later.

Tabitha's cry of despair is suddenly interrupted by the arrival of her two sisters, Beth and Mandy.

They come rushing over to her in a flurry of excitement, carrying armloads of toll and satin and sparkling necklaces and makeup palettes.

Tabitha stares at them in confusion, unable to speak for a moment.

Well, hello to you two, sis.

Not much of a royal welcome here, huh?

Yeah, I'd expect better manners from a princess to be.

What?

A princess?

What are you talking?

What are you talking about?

Why are you here?

How are you here?

What is happening?

You thought you could keep a secret like this from your own sisters.

A prince, a castle, a romantic Christmas ball.

The world's best pumpkin pie?

No, no, no, no.

There is no ball.

I'm being held hostage, basically.

Dad was in the dungeon.

This guy's a moron who run his whole country into the ground with his strange Christmas obsession.

This is not a romance thing.

Well, not with you looking like that.

It's not.

Must be hard to feel the magic in the air in those dingy scrubs.

Yeah, just between you and me, sis, I don't know why you even wear them.

They look so, I don't know, sterile.

They're supposed to look sterile.

I'm a doctor.

She just takes any opportunity she can to remind us of that, doesn't she?

I know, right?

Anyway, tabs, we gotta get you all fancied up for the big ball now, so let's get a move on, huh?

There's a lot to do if we are gonna make you into a princess that will definitely be proposed to by the end of this night.

We've got glasses to take off, hair to let down, a dress for you to look uncomfortable in, and some quirky tennis shoes to go with the whole thing.

Because, hey, you still gotta be adorable, you?

No, no, no, no.

This is really not the vibe here.

How are you guys so misreading this situation?

Hey, wait!

Before Tabitha can stop them, the sisters have rushed her off to some sort of makeover montage

in which she is indeed transformed into a beautiful princess to be, at least by Christmas movie standards.

Basically, she is wearing a prom dress and tennis shoes, and her hair is down.

But the effect on Chris is obvious when Tabitha re-enters the room.

Just imagine that you are looking at the stage through a soft-focused lens right now.

Go ahead, just imagine it.

Wow, Tabs, you just look stuff it, Chris.

I just can't with you right now.

Let's go to the stupid pie thing.

It's 7.55 p.m.

in the courtyard outside.

The abandoned toys are us.

The crust of Nana Pibble's pie is just moments away from being perfectly golden brown.

In attendance, all of the world's media.

Wow, this is so cool that you all came.

Wow!

So

fun.

What really makes this special though is the Christmas magic.

You know, the lights, the cookies, the music,

all the stuff we used to love before it was totally ruined by this person right here, Tabitha Big City, my future girlfriend.

Never, never, never, ever.

Okay, you're right.

Too far, too far.

You're right.

Anyway, Tabitha, is there something you want to say to all the world's media?

Okay, it pains me to admit this, but the pie is actually pretty choice.

You know that's not what I meant.

Fine.

Fine.

For Snowby.

Wait, you named the Snow Globe?

What about for my dad?

Oh, yeah, for sure.

Okay, deep breath.

The crowd falls silent.

All eyes are drawn to Tabitha, and only partially because there's a big glob of pumpkin on her chin.

Christmas is

very cool.

The script, please.

Christmas is super sweet, and I'm really sorry I killed it.

I promise I'll never do that again.

It was a total boner.

And

also.

Go on.

Tabitha summons all her courage and she prepares to save her dad and beloved Snow Globe by betraying all that she holds dear.

But then the silence is broken by a low roar that grows increasingly powerful.

Suddenly, the gates burst open and townspeople flood the courtyard of the abandoned Toys R Us.

At their head, holding a pitchfork, is Jesus.

This has gone far enough, Evergreen!

Jesus, what are you doing out of the hotel?

My name is Carl.

And I've had about enough.

We all have.

Batavia used to be a good, prosperous nation, but you've perverted it with your Christmas obsession.

Oh, thank you, Jesus.

Carl!

Also, you're welcome.

We're not doing this for you.

We, the citizens of Batavia, demand a return to logic, a return to reason, a return, a return to Easter.

From his robe, Carl pulls a massive crate of colorful eggs and hoists it above his head.

I'm done hiding.

These precious babies have been under my bed for months and they smell terrible.

My mother cured all manner of genetically transmitted diseases with these beautiful babies, and so did her mother before her and her mother before her.

Oh, come on.

We, the people, demand that we return to the old ways, to the ways of Easter.

Bring back Easter.

Bring back Easter.

Bring back Easter.

Bring back Easter!

Carl,

Carl attempts to get the crowd to join in and they either do or they don't.

It's really up to them.

Bring back Easter!

Bring back Easter!

And another thing, we want to go back to calling it Easter Island again, everyone.

Bring back Easter.

In the commotion, a jolly man sidles up to Tabitha.

Santa Claus?

Oh, ho, hold it down, William.

I'm trying to lay low.

Are you here to rescue me?

Oh, no, no.

Chris named me Minister of Defense, but

I know a coup d'etat when I see one.

We're getting out of here.

Your dad's already in the sleigh.

I can't believe it.

All those years of being good are finally paying off.

Actually, one of these Yahoos stabbed me with a sharpened candy cane, and

I need you to stitch me up.

What about Snowball?

I'll make you 20 of them.

Let's go

The

End.

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