The Jew Who Saved Christmas - Act 2

Ho ho ho ho ho! Did you eat one of Bernie's special cookies and forget what happened in the first episode? Well, Santa doesn't blame you. I wasn't all there that night either.
Our story began at O'Hare Airport, where we met Bernie Gold, a Spirit Airlines liaison with no Christmas spirit. and not just because she's Jewish.

After ruining her family's Hanukkah party, Bernie tries to down her sorrows by whipping up Santa's all-time favorite, chocolate chip cookies. Only Bernie added a naughty ingredient, a rare strain of kosher cannabis.
And when I accidentally landed at the wrong house, Bernie's house, well, I thought those cookies were a gift for old Saint Nick. Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho.
Well, let's just say Santa got higher than the North Pole. Burnt and Burnt.
As I was thrust into the first

of eight Jewish-themed stoner miracles,

Bernie had no choice but to step up

and become my designated driver

or be forever known

as the Jew who ruined Christmas.

Episode 2, Interior, O'Hare Airport, later that night. An asleep Santa, sporting a Wisconsin Dells bucket hat and sunglasses, is haphazardly strung over a baggage cart, being pushed by Bernie.
Yeah, sorry I had a weekend at Bernie's, dear ass, but there was no way I was getting in that sleigh. Eve looks on in confusion as Bernie wheels Santa to the Spirit Airlines counter.
Bernie hops over and goes nuts on the computer. Eve looks back and forth from Bernie to man in red.
I have questions. No time, Eve.
Gotta be a hero. Is your party over? How did it go? Bernie types vigorously.
Eve looks at Bernie's screen. Indiana? What's in Indiana? An orphanage, Eve.
Two tickets? You're getting on a plane? Standby doesn't let you do first class. Damn it! Bernie backspaces aggressively.
What is going on? Who is this man? Is this your uncle or something? I don't know. Yeah, that's good.
Let's go with that. What happened to your crippling fear of flying? Heights and the first final destination? Eve, I've got a point to prove, an Ativan to take, and no time to explain.
Bernie grabs her tickets and wheels Santa towards security. Interior, boarding tunnel, later.
Bernie struggles to figure out the brakes on Santa's wheelchair. She kicks the chair multiple times, making out cold Santa jerk back and forth.
She bends down to nonchalantly whisper into his ear, Okay, Papa Noel, we got through security with minor hiccups. Thank you, Dave.
And now we just need a board, take off in a man-made steel tube of circulated farts, and defy gravity without understanding how. Easy.
Bernie's cell rings, not thinking she picks it up.

Intercut with Interior, Northwestern Hospital.

Simultaneously.

Rami paces in front of a vending machine,

rubbing her prego belly annoyingly.

Hello, yes, what?

Why are you yelling?

I'm surprised you're even awake.

Thought you'd for sure have smoked yourself into a pot coma.

Funny you should say that. Why is that funny? You haven't even asked how anyone is.
Right. The peanut thing.
How is... everyone? Not great.
Mom went into anaphylactic shock and is on an epinephrine drip. Oh my god.
Is she gonna be okay? Yes, don't be so dramatic. Anyway, I'm calling because I'm feeling much better.

Even pregnant, my immune system is robust.

Bernie rolls her eyes.

I'm gonna convince the doctor to release me so I can head back early and clean up the party.

I assume you haven't and Mom doesn't need any more stress.

No!

Everyone in the tunnel stares at Bernie who just screamed.

I mean, no! You need a rest. Take care of my little niece in there.

Nephew.

You're Mom's favorite, so she'll want you by her side.

I promise, the house will be clean by the time you guys get home.

When are you thinking that'll be?

Hopefully by morning?

I hate that Samuel has to spend the night here. So go be with him.
And Mom. I got the house really wrong.
I promise. Okay, but to be frank, everyone is at their wits' ends with you.
Mom and Dad are getting older. They can't handle the drama.
If they come home to a mess, I don't know how much longer you'll be welcome. Oh, that's the nurse.
I gotta go. Bye.
Bernie startles when she notices a bundled boy staring at gold pixie dust swirling out of Santa's open mouth every time he snores. Is that Santa? Yes.
The line starts to move as everyone boards the plane. Interior, spirit airplane, later.
Bernie finishes buckling a snooze Santa into his seat. A flight attendant approaches.
Oh, your grandpa? I wish. My life would have been way cooler.
Can I have the alcohol? Vodka, gin? Yes. That'll be $40.
Water will be fine. Still $40.
Please go! Bernie pops open her Ativan bottle. The door is shut loud.
Bernie coolly adjusts her position. Okay.
Here we go. It's happening.
As the plane starts to taxi, Bernie grabs Santa's hand. She shuts her eyes tight.
Real talk, Nicholas. I wish I was the one high right now.
I know you're going through eight crazy nights in one or whatever Benjamin said, but I could really use some catatonic right now. As Bernie continues to mumble to herself, Santa's eyes bust open, smash zoom into Santa's peeper.
We enter his eye and dive through a stocking to emerge in a boiling pot of oil. A menorah's second candle gets lit and Benjamin's floating head appears.
Miracle two! Become a dreidel and spin out! We are sucked out of Santa's iris. His eyes are now vibrating.
Bernie feels Santa shaking. Uh-oh.
Santa? Get me out of here! Miracle 2! Miracle 2! Santa tries to get out of his seat. He flings around, not understanding he's restrained by his seatbelt.
He uses the Santa's strength to rip through. He stands up.
A buckle flight attendant leans out. Sir, we're still taxiing.
The seatbelt light is on. What is this? Why am I here? Who are you people? Santa bangs on the window.
A passenger doesn't like what's happening. Take it easy, buddy.
Sit down. Bernie grabs Santa's leg.
Santa, sit down. You are about to be tackled by patriots, and then Christmas will be really wrecked.
Christmas? Is Christmas today? Is today Christmas? Oh, I have so much to do. Santa takes off down the aisle towards the emergency door.
Not good. Bernie chases after him.
Heroic passengers try to restrain him, but Santa's shifty. A bald air marshal enters the aisle.
He whips out his badge. Sir, I am an air marshal.
You need to sit down. Bernie struggles to get through the looky-loos to reach Santa.
Oh no, please. Please, he's got dementia.
He doesn't mean any harm. Ma'am, do not get involved or you'll be in violation too.
I will take you both down. Santa reaches into his coat.

The passengers gasp.

He pulls out a toupee.

The air marshal's eyes widen.

Oh, Kevin Garrity.

Nice list since 1986.

Monofilament toupee.

Number one on your Christmas list.

Let me out.

Uh, I didn't ask for that. Take it.

It's yours. How did you know that it was? Get me off this plane.
Smash 2, interior, TSA interrogation room, later. Bernie sits across from Agent Gimbel.
She's glancing towards a two-way mirror. Intercut with, interior, behind the mirror, same, where Santa is being strip searched by police.

They pull endless Christmas fun from his person.

Back in interrogation room, Agent Gimbel smacks the table to get Bernie's attention.

Hey!

I say I was surprised to see you here, but I'm not a little girl, and you're not a jack

in the box.

You're predictable.

I knew you'd end up right here, in front of me, cuffed. Gimbal, I need you to be not yourself right now, okay? This is an emergency.
You bet your ass it's an emergency. You just committed a Title 49 felony.
You're toast, Bernice. Yeah, my name's short for Bernadette, but that doesn't matter.
What matters is that you help me get the man you're holding to Indiana. From holding, the police have just pulled a candy cane from Santa's nethers.
They are horrified. Agent Gimbel kicks his feet up on the table.
Why is it that a woman who's never used her airline's benefits suddenly on Christmas Eve wants to travel to Fort Wayne, Indiana with a man claiming to be Santa Claus? Agent Gimbel tosses an ID towards Bernie. She looks down and takes in Santa's driver's license.
It reads, Nicholas Claus, North Pole, 0315, 270 AD. Bernie takes a deep breath.
She's exhausted. False identification? Another charge to be leveled.
He's not claiming to be Santa Claus. He is Santa Claus.
No, he isn't. The ID's real.
That's impossible. He's real.
All of it is real. Gimbal slaps the table.
Santa is not real. Okay? He's not.
Christmas is about Christ, not some mythical pervert pulling B&Es once a year. No respectable adult lets their kid believe and believe and believe.

And then they're in college and they still believe.

And it infantiles.

Infantilizes.

Thank you, yes.

God damn it, I knew that.

And then they're in college and they still believe.

And it infantilizes and emasculates them so there's nothing left.

Really specific.

Well, I don't make nice sweaters because I'm not a sheep.

And I won't be fooled twice.

Now you're going to go and tell me the truth or I'm going to make you wish the yarn you're spinning is long enough to hang yourself with.

From holding, Santa's hands are pressed against the two-way mirror.

The strip search gets personal and makes Santa's eyes string open.

We smash Zoom into Santa's eyeball, busting through day 25 on an advent calendar.

Instead of chocolate is the golden hand of Hamsa,

a menorah's third candle gets lit lit and Benjamin's floating head appears.

Miracle three!

Channel the Maccabees and fight for your life!

We are sucked out of Santa's iris and now his eyes are glowing red.

Santa slowly turns around.

All energy spinning out is now replaced with pure rage.

The policemen take a terrified step back. Santa beats the ever-loving shit out of him.
All energy spinning out is now replaced with pure rage.

The policemen take a terrified step back. Santa beats the ever-loving shit out of him.
Gimbel, unaware of what's happening on the other side of the mirror, finishes his speech. Bite the bullshit, Bernie, because I'm not saying this again.
Santa is not real!

On cue, Santa headbutts the window and smashes it to smithereens. Bernie screams and covers herself from the glass shower.

The blow forces Gimbal to the floor. Gimbal grabs his radio.

We've got a 32 PC. We're gonna need backup.
Officer down!

Agent Gimbal grabs his taser and aims. He shoots at Santa's private party.
Bingo! You melt in my snowballs. Santa reaches into his pants and pulls out an icy snowball.
It's huge! He launches the ball at Gimbal. Upon impact, Gimbal spits teeth and goes down.
Bernie's eyes widen in fear as Santa turns his attention to her. She scoots

backwards in terror. Look,

Santa, I can explain.

I was just trying to help. I swear to God, please.

Please don't. Bernie flinches

and then realizes Santa has reached his

hand out to her as if to help her up.

I'm gonna take your

hand now.

Please don't dislocate my shoulder.

Santa yanks Bernie up like a rag doll as he presses his belt buckle that is blinking red and green the two were shot up through the ceiling exterior O'Hare Airport moments later on the roof of the airport far away screams are accompanied by the sound of drywall being busted through Bernie and Santa emerged through the the roof. Shingles, glass, and dust fly everywhere.
Bernie is covered in the powder as Santa's eyes glow red through his dirt-covered face. As Santa and Bernie fly through the air, they suddenly drop.
They're about to crash into pavement when... Santa and Bernie land perfectly inside Santa's sleigh.
The reindeer trot in place. Bernie startles as a giant commercial airplane passes them to take off.
She opens her eyes and realizes they're on the... Runway.
Bernie looks at Santa, who is still in Maccabee mode. Benjamin, what the fuck did you sell me? Santa smiles with clenched teeth and prompts the reindeer.
On Dasher, on Dancer, on Prancer and Vixen, on Comet, on Cupid and Donner and Blitzen! The reindeer turn around to look at Santa and see his evil form and... They turn back around and use the tarmac to take flight.

Bernie holds on for dear life.

Through the hole in the roof, we...

Through the hole in the roof, we see Agent Gimbal gain consciousness

right in time to see the sleigh fly by.

In shock, Gimbal grabs his cell phone and dials.

Mommy, about Santa, you were right. I'm so sorry! Exterior Rooftop, Orphanage, Indiana, later that night.
The sleigh lands atop the roof with a thud. Bernie opens the gate door, falls to her knees, and vomits.
Santa grabs the list and presents before marching to the chimney like a possessed zombie. Whoa, whoa, whoa, big guy.
You can't go in there like that. Santa tilts his head like a confused dog.
You will scare the shit out of the children. They're orphans.
They've been through enough. Santa turns to the reindeer and growls.
Donner growls back. Yeah, OK, case in point, I'll fill in.
How do I... Bernie gestures to the chimney.
Santa takes off his hat and hands it to her. You gonna be good up here? I'll keep watch for Greeks.
Is that a Hanukkah thing? You know what? No time. Bernie looks down the chimney.
Santa, annoyed by her hemming and hawing, pushes his magical bell button, and once again, Bernie is sucked down the chimney. Interior, Indiana Orphanage.
Moments later, Bernie lands on her tuchus. Ow! Shh! Bernie sees children asleep in their beds.
There's a Christmas tree in the corner, and Bernie tiptoes towards it. She suddenly stops in her tracks when she sees Santa's face staring back at her.
What are you doing here? Santa is mimicking her every move. Bernie realizes that she is looking at her own reflection in a mirror.
She moves around to play with her Santa twin. She takes off the hat and becomes Bernie again.
She puts it on. Santa.
Cool. Bernie continues her journey to the tree.
She puts the sack down and reaches in. Presents fly up, automatically knowing which one is right for the location.
As Bernie checks names on the gift tags, the list's check twice box gets magically filled. Easy peasy.
Bernie turns around to head up the chimney and is shocked to find all of the children awake and staring at her. Hello, orphans.
Beat until... We knew you'd come! Did you bring chocolates? Right, the hat.
Ho, ho, it's me, Santa Claus. Merry Christmas, parentless children.
A child, Demetrius, grins ear to ear as he looks up at Santa.

I knew he was black.

We see Santa from Demetrius' POV. He's right.
Santa's black.

Bernie is confused. So is Cassandra, a little girl wearing glasses and a long dressing gown.

What are you talking about? Santa's clearly a woman.

Bernie looks down at herself, nervous. They are the real her.
From Cassandra's POV, we see a female Santa who looks like Betty White. Uh-uh, Santa's a centaur.
Look at his hooves. Santa's my mom.
Can't you see it? The kids argue over what Santa looks like. Bernie thinks for a moment and smiles.

She bends down to give a speech.

I think Santa might appear different to everyone.

What Santa looks like depends on how you see him.

From one child's POV, Santa becomes a Cuban woman. O como la vez?

Or how you see them?

O como la vez? Or how you see them. Or how you see them.

That's the magic of Hanukkah Christmas.

Christmas.

That's the magic of Christmas.

It's beautiful.

Yes, it is, little one.

Now I got a jet.

I've got more presents to deliver and a sleigh to DD.

Cool? Cool. Bernie stands and starts backing up towards the chimney.
Merry Christmas to all and to all sleep good. Bernie notices a reflection of the perfect Coca-Cola Claus in the mirror.
Of course you see Coca-Cola Claus. You're basic, Bernie.
She is sucked up through the chimney. Exterior, rooftop, orphanage, moments later.
Bernie shoops out of the chimney and this time lands in a squat, her butt touching the snow. Better.
Santa jumps around to face Bernie, dukes up. He wields a sharpened candy cane like a shiv.
Santa, stop. It's just me.
Put the cane down. That wasn't the one up your butt, right? Donner leans over and chomps on the butt cane.
Bernie throws the sack into the sleigh. Well, that was surprisingly chill.
Like, I friggin' nailed that on the first go. I don't know what your elves were quacking about, because I got this shit down.
Bernie hops into the sleigh. What do you say, Mel Gibson Santa? You ready to crush Christmas? Mel is on the naughty list.
For good reason. Get in, sugar tits.
Santa gets in the sleigh, and they take flight. Bernie's screams fill the night.
Exterior, night sky, Midwest, montage. An upbeat Christmas song slaps as we see, in record speed, the sleigh soaring from house to house.
Insert shots of the list. Multiple names get checked off in between flights.
Weather shots of flurries and drizzles. Clear night skies and shooting stars as they fly over the map of the Midwest.
Roof shots of Bernie repeatedly pulling Santa back from ledges as he tries to fight anyone passing by, Belt shots of Santa pushing his belt buckle over and over. Shoop shots of Bernie entering and exiting multiple chimneys.
The last shoot lands Bernie inside of a... Interior, middle-class house, Texas, later that night.
The song fades as Bernie enters a dark living room. She heads to the tree.
Suddenly, a string is pulled and a light illuminates a little girl, Jeannie, sitting on the couch. Bernie startles.
Falling backwards into the tree, she catches her breath. Ah! Don't do that! Assistance needed.
No, everything's fine. Don't come down.
The little girl stares blankly at Santa. From her POV, Santa looks like our traditional Coca-Cola Claus.
You know, you're not supposed to be awake. One of the songs says so.
Go to bed. Good night.
The little girl doesn't move. Bernie tries to finish delivering presents, but can't.
What, are you just going to watch me? Jeannie Smith? I've been waiting for you all night. That's not creepy, Jeannie.
Okay, well, here I am. Go to bed so I can do the thing.
Remember when we talked at the mall? Bernie uncomfortably nods yes. I asked for an LOL doll.
Bernie puts her hand in the sack and a present shoots up. She checks the list.
Yep, got it. Act surprised for your parents.
Good doll. Bernie puts her hand in the sack, and a present shoots up.

She checks the list.

Yep, got it.

Act surprised for your parents.

Good night.

Bernie heads back towards the chimney.

Wait!

I want to exchange it.

I don't think it works that way, kid.

I mean, it could, but I don't know how.

I don't know if we do receipts,

but your parents probably could exchange it.

They'll figure it out.

My parents are getting a divorce, and instead of an LOL doll, I want them to stay together. Oh, um, that is sad info.
The little girl blinks up at

Bernie with innocence. I don't know how I'm supposed to handle this.
Bernie thinks and decides

to take a seat on the couch. Without prompt, Jeannie immediately jumps on her lap.
Not what I... Whatever, it's fine.
Jeannie, let me ask you something. Do your parents get along? No, they've been fighting a lot.
Hmm. Do they seem like they're happy together? Jeannie thinks and then sadly shakes her head no.
Uh-uh. Then why do you want them to stay together? I don't want things to change.
Why? Things sound like they suck here right now. Besides, divorce can be dope.
It can? Yeah. Two houses, two Christmases.
Sometimes they'll fight over you and try to buy your love, which can be hella fun. Maybe you'll remarry, and you'll get step-siblings or half-siblings.

You an only child?

Yeah, I hate it.

So the opportunities sound fruitful.

Look, I know this sucks.

Like, even though it has nothing to do with you, it affects you, and it's really unfair.

But there's another really good thing about divorce that I didn't mention.

The best part. Jeannie looks up, hopeful.
Your parents got a shot at being happy. You want that, right? Yeah.
If they're happy, you'll be happy. Probably.
I can't see the future, but I do know, just judging from what's under the tree and the weird mall photos. Bernie gestures to photos of Jeannie and her parents

lying atop each other in denim.

It's clear that your parents love you big time.

A divorce won't change that.

So, what do you say?

Bernie holds up the LOL doll.

Jeannie smiles and grabs the doll,

holding it to her chest lovingly.

Bernie stands up and Jeannie falls off her lap hard.

Ow!

Merry Christmas, Jeannie. It's gonna be okay.
Santa, I love you. Bernie holds in a big cry.
She heads up the chimney. On the mantle, we focus in on an elf on the shelf.
The eyes glow green and the head turns to follow Bernie's ascent. Exterior, Los Angeles sky, later that night.
Bernie and Santa are sailing through the smog, and when it clears, Bernie gets a closer look at the temperature. It's 85 degrees.
Good Lord, I'm schvitzing. Bernie takes off the Santa hat and glances at still angry, red-eyed Santa.
How do you not swipe your silver balls off south of the equator? Angry Santa turns a dial and they are blasted with AC. They suddenly land atop of...
Exterior, lit loft, TikTok house. Continuous.
The house is a McMansion. Bernie hops out of the sleigh.
In the front seat, Bernie's phone, filled with missed texts from Eve, glows with a FaceTime call. Bernie tries to hit ignore, but accidentally picks up.
Intercut with. Interior, Eve's apartment.
Same. Eve is in Christmas jammies on her bed.
She erupts with worry. Bernie, I have been blowing you up all night.
You got arrested. Where are you? Eve, I can't talk right now.
Why? Is that George R.R. Martin motherfucker listening? Are you okay?

Long story.

Okay, I'll explain later.

Eve, I gotta go.

Bernie hangs up on Eve, ending the intercut.

That'll be fun to deal with later.

Okay, Freud Santa.

According to the list, we only have West Coast, Best Coast left. So, since you're stuck in the rage miracle, I'll continue being a hero and go deliver Christmas to...

Bernie checks the list.

The lit loft TikTok houses holiday party.

Cool.

Interior, lit loft, later.

Bernie creeps around a dimly lit living room.

Every square inch is Instagrammable.

There are neon signs, retro arcade machines, and cotton candy dispensers.

Bernie hears the party happening outside, but for now, she's alone. She spots a Christmas tree in the corner.
Bingo. Bernie drags the sack over.
She opens the list and reads... Michaela Bell.
Bernie sticks her hand in the sack, and a gift flies up. At-home lip filler.
Welcome to Los Angeles. Another gift flies to Bernie.
David Grimm. You got Instabot.
Gain ten times your followers in minutes. Jesus.
Bernie unpacks more and more gifts until... Scanner! Bernie looks up, startled.
Is she caught? There's no one around. If they're not talking about her, well, who must they be talking about? Fuck.
Bernie sets down the sack and heads towards exterior lit loft backyard moments later. Bernie takes in a laser lit trendy Gen Z Christmas party.
Handfuls of adult looking teens tick tock dance to the beats. A DJ man's the stage and sexy elf dress cater waiters hand out festive cocktails.
Bernie spots angry Santa holding the hat Bernie left behind. Bernie realizes she is not protected by her Santa identity and is standing in the middle of a party in her dewy PJs.
She looks like a choogy narc. Bernie passes through overheard in LA convos on her way to Santa.
I just invested in this new crypto. I'm going to drip in guau.
Oh, that's candy bread. A stressed assistant approaches angry Santa.
You're late. I told your agency 10 p.m.
I could get fired. Look, you glorified extra.
You need to deliver so that my boss... The assistant points to a literal 11-year-old with rainbow hair.
Doesn't can me on Christmas. Gift bags are behind the booth.
The assistant shoves Santa onto the stage. The DJ stops the music.
All eyes turn to Santa. Not good.
The Maccabee miracle has given Santa Terminator vision. We cut into his POV as he scans the crowd for Bernie.
He spots her right as an e-boy douche slithers up, shooting a shot. He immediately gives Bernie the ick.
Sup, girl. You here solo? No, thank you.
Okay. Hard to get, I see you.
But you'll find my rizz is persuasive. The e-boy douche puts his arm around an uninterested Bernie.
Dude, I said no. The douche isn't listening to Bernie and continues to invade her space.
Santa's Terminator vision flashes with threat detected, and his hands ball into fists. Santa leaps off the stage.
Everyone gasps in fear as Santa slow-mo flies towards E-Boy douche. As he sails through the air, Santa's eyes suddenly shoot open.
Smash zoom into Santa's eyeball. We enter and see a blonde head slowly rotating, wearing a Christmas cracker crown.
As the head spins, the hair turns. Brunette! A bald patch forms in the center of the head.
A yarmulke slaps down over the bald spot. A menorah's fourth candle gets lit, and Benjamin's floating head appears.
Miracle 4! You're a menorah, bitch! Get lit! We zoom out of Santa's eyes and find him behind the DJ booth. He grabs the mic.
Let's get fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la age kids love it. And there's miracle four.
Bernie fights through bumping and grinding to meet Santa, just in time for him to jump off the stage and crowd surf away. Santa, over here! Bernie tries to follow Santa but gets danced in the opposite direction.
She gets booty popped by Juicy Caboose and falls to the ground where she spots... Boots with the fur.
As Bernie army crawls towards the boots, a lacy thong lands atop her head. Bernie peels the undies off.
And there's Pinky. Suddenly, a white glove hand reaches down and hoists Bernie to her feet.
Bernie! You lit? You having fun? You're charged? Let's go! Santa fist pumps. What the hell, dude? You were supposed to keep a lookout on the roof.
You forgot the hat. Who's watching the caribou? Vibe check.
You seem stressed. Oh, oh, oh, I know what you need.
Shots, shots, shots, shots! Shots! Shots! Never thought I'd miss Hulk Santa. Bernie grabs Santa's hand and drags him towards the exit, but he doesn't budge.
We have to go. We still have like three states and a smidge of West Canada to deliver Christmas to.
Come on. We're running out of time.
Time? Burn a doodle. I'm Father Time.

Check your watch.

Bernie looks at her phone.

1 AM.

That's weird.

It's been 1 AM for like 20 minutes.

When the sleigh's not in flight,

time slows down the night.

Santa foggorns.

Bernie grabs it out of his hands.

Stop that.

OK, so it's 1 AM as long as we're here?

No, give or take.

Bernie pauses, thinking.

Thank you. Bernie grabs it out of his hands.
Stop that! Okay, so it's 1 a.m. as long as we're here? No, give or take.
Bernie pauses, thinking... I mean, in that case...
Let's party. As Bernie and Santa slap fives, cue Pursuit of Happiness, or whatever this podcast can afford.
Epic party montage. Bernie takes a shot.
Dance break. Bernie and Santa throw gifts back into the crowd.
Dance break. Santa whispers into Jake Paul's ear, and his life is forever changed by the magical secret Santa bestowed.
Dance break. The debauchery is cut short when Bernie notices a man in a janky Santa suit enter angrily and spot the real Santa.
Time's up, Euphoria, Santa. Party's over.
Oh, no. They haven't even played my request yet.
When Bernie sees hired Santa and the stressed assistant approaching, she has to think fast. We're going to another party.
This one's tired. But...
Bernie ignores Santa's protesting and lifts his belt buckle. The e-boy douche misreads what's happening.
Hell yeah, yeah i'm next the e-boy douche eagerly unbuckles his belt as Bernie pushes Santa's button she junk punches e-boy before hey e-boy i need that reaction to you getting punched yeah oh okay Bernie and Santa fly towards the roof everyone stares in shock at the magic that just happened before erupting into cheers. Best party trick ever.
Hired Santa throws his hat on the ground in frustration. How am I supposed to follow that? Exterior, night sky, west coast, later.
Santa and Bernie soar through translucent clouds past the yellow moon. The sleigh bumps with a little turbulence.
Whoa, I love it when it does that. Santa sees Bernie white-knuckling the side of the sleigh.
Oh, come on. Don't tell me you're still not used to it.
I don't think that us mere mortals could ever get used to flying in a sleigh led by fancy moose. But at least I stopped barfing.
Puke and rally! I actually think I'm doing pretty well considering my crippling fear of flying. Celebrate good times.
Come on! Santa claps over his head repeatedly as he sings. Look what I learned at the party! Santa does the sleigh ride TikTok dance.
Bernie can't help but laugh. You know, not that I pictured what it would be like to hang out with Santa, but if I did, it wouldn't have been this.
What would it have been like? 24-7 Rave-a-thon?

Uh, less glow sticks, more judgment, maybe?

Usually old people are kind of critical,

but you're like the oldest dude in history,

and not once have you tried to teach me a lesson.

And this time I kind of deserved it.

I mean, I full-on drugged and semi-kidnapped you.

You did?

Party phone!

Hey, Frat Santa.

Hey, Frat Santa. Can you cool it?

I'm trying to say thank you.

It's been a minute since anyone's believed in me and it feels really good.

You trusting me to take the

lead, I, um,

it just means a lot, so

thanks. Oh, you're

a sick double D, Bernie,

and I'm having a great time.

Dee Dee. I don't know what that is.
Designated driver. Oh dear God.
Since we're mentioning. Jim, you're always thinking tits.
I thought we were talking bra size. You're a sick Dee Dee, Bernie, and I'm having a great time.
Good, I'm glad. They ate crazy miracles or whatever Benjamin has you going through.
They really haven't been that crazy. Okay, aggro Santa was hardcore, but so far...
Zing! Santa's eyes spring open. We enter and land on the night before Christmas.
The book morphs into a Torah that aggressively rolls up. A menorah's fifth candle gets lit and Benjamin's floating head appears.
Miracle five, yes you can tour!

Yee-haw, diddle diddle, buh buh buh buh, diddle diddle dum.

Look at it.

Oh my gosh.

Yes you can tour.

Yes you can tour.

Miracle five, yes you can tour.

Diddle diddle diddle diddle diddle dum. I'm experiencing so much schadenfreude.

I love it.

We zoom out of Santa's eye.

Bernie continues her speech, not realizing anything's happened.

And yes, fried Santa was hard to maneuver,

but honestly, he was a good listener, you know?

Bernie notices Santa's quiet.

Too quiet. In the silence, sleigh bells begin to jingle-jangle in rhythm.
Bernie knows something's up. What's happening? Cue original song.
Wait, what's happening? Magically, music swells. Accompanying Santa's song, Bernie looks around for the source.
The radio's on. It's so much brighter, and it's all because of you, Noelle.
Wait. Are you talking about me? I've roasted all the chestnuts, killed all the Christmas geese.
But it's been so monotonous, delivering world peace. Suddenly through your eyes a brand new view.
Who knew Christmas needed a Jew? Ish. We prefer Jew-ish.
But I think I get what's going on here. Your next miracle is to be all Barbara and sing.
I've whistled all the carols that could ever have been sung. Chimneys I've been sliding down have given me black lung.
Wait, what? I've been sliding down chimneys all friggin' night. Look, I no longer have the soot flu.
Who knew Christmas needed a Jew? Bernie swings her arms out in musical theater majesty and unaware knocks the sleigh's lever to autopilot. Correct.
I've spent every Christmas eating Chinese food alone. The dark house on the block, that's what they used to call my home.
But with you, I think I finally got my shot. Christmas needed a Jew.
Who knew a Jew needed Christmas? Okay, sorry, I don't have like a magical We've Given song gift. I can't like improvise rhymes on the fly.
Oh, that's all right. I'll bring all the jolly.
And I'll bring all the oi. We fit together perfectly.
This Hebrew and this goy. You lit up my yuletide log, and it's burning bright.

The sleigh is not the only thing that's higher than a kite.

A holly jolly mitzvah, yes, it's true.

Who knew Christmas?

Christmas.

The reindeer harmonized blues. Needed are you.
The song ends with Bernie and Santa in a hug. Best friends who are now touched down in the middle of nowhere.
Exterior. Middle of nowhere.
Daylight. Nothing but ice and glaciers as far as the eye can see.
Bernie looks around, confused by her surroundings and the sunlight. This doesn't look like Oregon.
Did they not have night during winter? Bernie gets out of the sleigh and wanders. As she inspects her surroundings, she doesn't notice the sleigh with Santa in it moving through a portal before it slowly disappears.
Santa, where exactly are we? Bernie turns around and realizes she's completely alone. Song Santa, where are you? Hello? Bernie walks in one direction.
Robert Streisanta, this isn't funny. She turns around and walks in another direction.
Is this a hide-and-seek miracle because I hate it? She picks up speed. She runs in every direction, unsure of where to turn.
She trips and falls to her knees, the severity of the situation taking over. This

is how I perish. Defeated, Bernie drops her head into her hands.
The tip of her forehead grazes the portal. Bernie falls backwards.
What was that? She peels herself up. Curiously, Bernie stretches her hand out and slowly reaches a weird ripple in the air.
When she pushes her hand through the ripple, it disappears.

This is some Alex Mack shit.

Bernie lets her body follow through the ripple and enters the looking glass. She emerges inside of interior, exterior, the real North Pole.
Continuous. Bernie looks behind her in the icy field she came from.
Gone. Panicked, Bernie checks to make sure her whole bod made it through in one piece.
Her bod's there, but it's decked out in Dutch Christmas attire. Bernie Gold has gotten a merry makeover.
Ooh, Bobby be rolling in her grave. Bernie takes in the stupendous North Pole.
It has cobblestone roads made of gingerbread and snow-capped crooked roofs. Bernie, in clogs, awkwardly shuffles down the street.
She passes by a tavern serving hot chocolate on tap. There's a farmer's market with candy cane tastings.
A fruitcake bakery's automatic machine spits out everyone's least favorite sticky cake. Bernie lands in the town square and runs directly into Sotnik, the head elf.
He is surrounded by his brethren, whose names also mean elf in different languages. Bernie Gold.
Bernie looks down to the CGI elves. Think elf on the shelf, but run through AI that has given them extra fingers and teeth.
Jesus, this is how I envision elves? Another elf, Alfer, leans out from Sotnik. No, this is...
this is just what we look like. Ah! You guys are cute and not at all creepy.
Thank you! Bernie gasps. Terrifying.
Sotnik gets down to business. What in the fiery Noel did you do to Santa? Sotnik points at Santa, who was humming and swinging around a licorice lamppost.
Okay, so don't freak out. I've had it totally under control.
It's actually kind of a funny story if you think about it. Hey, knock it off and get to the goody-goody gumdrops! Okay, okay.
Santa came to my house? Another elf, Alva, jumps atop Alfer's shoulders. Why? You're a Jew.
Ish. I'm Jew-ish.
And it was a mistake. Something about not checking his list twice? The elves gasp and mutter in terror.
Okay, I had made some cookies and he thought they were for him. And he ate one.
The elves blink back at Bernie in confusion. Hiroto slides under Sotnik's legs.
So, what's the big deal? Santa loves fresh-baked ooey-gooey chocolate chip cookies. The elves all agree, nodding at each other and murmuring.
This was less ooey-gooey and more sticky-icky. The elves are confused.
It was an edible. What? An edible.
A what? An edible. You know, the chronic cannabis, potweed, a marijuana.
He ate marijuana. The elves take a large beat and then...
Drugs? Santa can't do drugs. Any mind-altering elixir is heightened by the magic that flows through his velvety veins! Remember the buttered rum incident? The elves lose their shit once again.
You guys are stressing for no reason! Santa may be a little... She looks over at Santa, who was doing the Tevye dance.
Out of it. But luckily, I am an expert in babysitting stoners.
Not to toot my own horn, but I've been delivering Christmas without a hitch. I stepped up, took the literal reins, and haven't missed one kid along the way.
So we could sit here, freaking out over a little hiccup, and point fingers at whose fault this is. Yars! Or you could just let me finish saving Christmas.
What do you say? Saving Christmas? What are you, some sort of little dumber boy? Christmas is ruined because of you.

And now, thanks to your missing the poinsettia speech,

we're running out of time to fix it.

What are you talking about? We have plenty of time.

When the sleigh is not in flight, time slows down the night.

We're not in flight. Time stops.

Bernie trails off when she looks at her phone and sees time passing normally.

Why hasn't time stopped? We're in a different... Oh, Jesus.
We're in a different time zone. Here it's already Christmas, and the magic only works on...
That's top secret, Santa. We don't have time to explain everything to you.
Alpher, Hiroto, grab Santa and get him un-King Winsleslost. The two elves take off, hopping on their hands and cartwheeling to grab Santa.
I already tried to sober him up. You're just wasting more time.
You're the one wasting our Tiny Tim time, Bernie Gold. Stop saying my full name! If you would have just gotten Santa here in the Frost Place, then he would have been right as reindeer already.
When the Pacific Northwest doesn't get their presents, they can thank you! As Sotnick and Bernie argue, we see Santa evade the elves via breakdance. You couldn't even save your own holiday! Why would you ever think you could save ours? Oh, okay.

Now I get it.

What do you get?

There it is.

There what is.

You're not letting me save Christmas because I'm Jewish

and you're a prejudiced little shit.

No, I'm not.

You're putting words in my missile mouth.

I don't care that you're a chosen one

because we didn't choose you.

You're on the naughty list. Because I'm a Jew.
Because you drugged Santa. Bernie and Sotnick are nose to nose.
Through their profile, we see Santa suddenly freeze mid Hava Nagila. Santa's eyes spring open.
We enter as a sea of red holly berries turn beige and soften into soggy matzo balls. A menorah's sixth candle gets lit and Benjamin's floating head appears.
Miracle Six! Put some jelly in your belly because you're about to have some sufcom yums! Munchies! We zoom out of Santa's eyes as he falls to the ground. The elves look at him with concern.
Santa? Are you saint sick? Santa sniffs the gingerbread cobblestone before taking a giant bite. Good grief, Santa! The ground? That's dirty! The huge pile of reindeer poop proves his point.
Suddenly, Santa makes a mad dash towards the shop. Santa? into interior Coco's Tavern, continuous.
He sly dives across the counter and hits each tap's lever. He streams steaming hot chocolate into his mouth.
He recovers from the burn and immediately goes for more. Ow! The elves are in shock.
They talk into a walkie.

We need re-enfrostments! Exterior, Town Square, moments later. Hiroto's call rings over the loudspeakers.
All elves rush after Santa. Bernie is left alone.
She calls out after them. Hey, wait! Want to know what's happening to Santa? Oh, just another Hanukkah-themed weed miracle.
What are those? That's not important. You don't need my help, right? You've got everything under control.
Bernie's phone vibrates with a text from Rami. I have service here? We're being released in a couple of hours.
Final warning to clean. I'm really hoping for once you finish something you started.
Bernie sees the sleigh in a nearby barn and looks from the sleigh to the text. Couldn't agree more.
This ain't over. Bernie takes off towards the sleigh.
Exterior, North Pole. Time jumps.
Sneaky music plays as Santa and Bernie in vignettes creep about, both trying to dodge the elves. On a roof, Santa eats gumdrop shingles.
The elves spot him. Up on the rooftop! Get him! On the ground, the elves run past letters to Santa mailbox.
With the coast clear, Bernie peeps out from the slot. Her feet shoot out of the bottom as she tiptoes towards the barn, bringing the mailbox with her.
In a toy shop, two elves on their work break snack on M&M's, not noticing a white-gloved hand sneakily partaking in their snack when they grab Santa's hand instead of their treat. He's in here! In the town square, the elves chase Santa towards the clock tower, not seeing Bernie die rolling into the barn.
Ending the vignettes, Bernie is beckoned by the shiny red sleigh. She approaches and pats the reindeer.
Go easy on me, guys. Bernie climbs into the sleigh, flips off autopilot, and takes a deep breath.
Okay, you can do this. Same thing as before, except no magical being to protect you if you die.
Bernie doesn't notice Santa's approach. He's eyeing the reindeer feed and chomps a dangling carrot, one bite at a time, until it lands him in the sleigh bed.
Dasher glares at Santa for eating his carrot. The elves continue their hunt from a distance.
I think he went in the barn! Here goes nothing. Bernie whips the reins and the reindeer lunge forward, charging.
The sleigh glides out of the barn. On the North Pole runway, the elves spot Bernie about to take off.
Don't let them get away! Bernie turns around to find her Santa stowaway. Santa? He smiles up at her, teeth covered in chocolate.
The elves are gaining on them, flipping, tumbling, using each other as springboards to catch up.

The sleigh tips back, Sotnick jumps into the air, reaching for the rail.

In slow motion, Sotnick's fingertips graze the sleigh as it takes off.

The sleigh exits the magical force field of the North Pole and leaves the elves in its dust.

End of Episode 2.

Great job, everyone.