111 "Christmas"
(Original Air Date: December 21, 1996)

Pictures for "Christmas"

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[~ Cop car pulls up in front of a building. Crumb steps out... ~]

CRUMB:
What's the story?

COP1:
The bomber's on the roof.

COP2:
We got him surrounded up there.

CRUMB:
What do we got?

[~ Dozens of policemen are staked out on the rooftop with rifles aimed... ~]

CRUMB:
I got him. I finally nailed him.

[~ The suspect is dressed in a Santa suit and appears to be headed down a chimney ~]

CRUMB:
That ain't the bomber. Get him out of here.

[~ Cue intro... ~]

RASSISTANT DETECTIVEIO:
Good morning! It's Christmas eve day here in Chicago. Time to hang that mistletoe and hit those stores. The temperature stands at a chilly 33 degrees, but forecasters are calling for things to warm up for Santa's arrival tonight. In the news today, police continue their search for the elusive teddy bear bomber, who has terrorized Chicago for almost three weeks...

[ knock on door ]

GARY:
Yeah.

CHUCK:
Hey, buddy! Merry Christmas!

GARY:
What's that?

CHUCK:
It's a tree.

GARY:
You call that a tree?

CHUCK:
I bought it for you.

GARY:
You bought that?

CHUCK:
Well, it fell off a truck.

GARY:
I'm touched.

CHUCK:
I knew you would be. Wow. I see you've gone all out with the holiday trimmings. Looks very festive in here, very decorative.

GARY:
Thank you. I haven't exactly had much time to do things.

CHUCK:
I see. You're in denial. It's understandable.

GARY:
How's that?

CHUCK:
Well, it's your first Christmas alone, divorced, living on top of a hotel, no social life. Must be rough.

GARY:
Thank you very much for reminding me of that, chuck.

CHUCK:
Fortunately, I have a cure for your nagging midwinter blues.

GARY:
Oh, yeah? What's that?

CHUCK:
Ta-da. Lift tickets to Wind Dance, buddy.

GARY:
You got ski tickets?

CHUCK:
You and me out on the slopes Christmas eve, couple of babes in stretch pants. I got my car back. It's waiting downstairs. Let's go. Pack a bag!

GARY:
Oh, you got ski tickets.

CHUCK:
Yep. Gar? Gar?

GARY:
I can't go.

CHUCK:
Why not?

GARY:
What do you mean, why not? I can't go --

CAT:
Meow.

[ thump ]

[~ Gary and Chuck look at each other in understanding... Cut to a restaurant. ~]

CHUCK:
C'mon, Gary. One night out of town. What is the big deal?

GARY:
You know what the big deal is. I'm stuck with this pap--

[~ Waitress arrives, clears throat to announce her presence as Chuck and Gary argue loudly. ~]

GARY:
People need help on the holidays. This holiday, I'm stuck serving up the help.

CHUCK:
Not if you're not there to do it, right?

WAITRESS:
I had an uncle who killed himself one Christmas.

GARY:
Really? Well, was he depressed?

WAITRESS:
No. Just stuck his fork in the toaster.

CHUCK:
All I'm saying is, Gary, you have the right to enjoy yourself. Everyone does.

GARY:
Uh-huh.

CHUCK:
(To waitress) What are you doing tonight?

WAITRESS:
Waiting for Santa.

CHUCK:
Santa?

WAITRESS:
Yeah. Why?

CHUCK:
So you actually believe in Santa Claus?

WAITRESS:
In theory, at least.

CHUCK:
In theory, you believe that there's some fat guy in a red suit who flies around on a sled and hangs out with a bunch of elves?

WAITRESS:
Yeah, Mr. Grinch. And what do you believe in?

CHUCK:
Presents.

WAITRESS:
I'll come back later.

CHUCK:
Thanks, Gidget.

[~ Waitress leaves ~]

CHUCK:
Listen, Gary, are you going to go with me or not? The world can take care of itself for a day.

GARY:
I don't think I'm going to make it.

[~ Gary reads from paper, headline: CHRISTMAS TRAGEDY - TEDDY BEAR BOMB KILLS 20 AT SKATING RINK ~]

GARY:
(Reads from paper) "An explosive device hidden inside a child's toy teddy bear detonated today at Bicentennial Skating Rink in downtown Chicago. The explosion, which occurred at 10:45 in the morning, killed 20 holiday skaters and injured 50 more. Police revealed that the bomber left a note in the wreckage, but officials refused to divulge the contents."

GARY:
Now he's going to become a murderer. I'm going to need your help, chuck.

CHUCK:
Fine. Fine. You save the world. Me, I'm going skiing.

GARY:
And do what, chase around a bunch of bunnies?

CHUCK:
You got it.

GARY:
Uh-huh. Look, this is too big. I'm going to need some help. I'm telling you. Qualified help.

CHUCK:
And where are you going to get that? I almost hate to say it.

[~ Cut to Crumb's office at the Police Station ~]

CRUMB:
Say it anyway.

ASSISTANT DETECTIVE:
Well, Sir--

CRUMB:
No, no. I don't want to hear it! All I wanna know is, who is this guy? Three weeks on this case, he's running us ragged. The mayor wants action. Teddy bears, my butt. Go on, get outta here.

POLICE WOCRUMBN:
Sir?

CRUMB:
What is it?

POLICE WOCRUMBN:
The mayor's on the phone again.

CRUMB:
Tell him I'm dead.

POLICE WOCRUMBN:
Yes, sir, and there's someone to see you.

CRUMB:
What kind of someone?

POLICE WOCRUMBN:
He says he knows things about the bomber.

CRUMB:
Of course he does. Everybody knows things about this bomber except me. Tell him to beat it.

POLICE WOCRUMBN:
He also says he knows you.

CRUMB:
Me? What's his name?

GARY:
Hobson. Remember me?

CRUMB:
Oh, no.

[~ Street, Chuck walking to his car with ski equipment, amidst a myriad of bell-ringers dressed in Santa suits. ~]

CHUCK:
(To first Santa) Nice beard. Polyester? (To second Santa) Hey, Santa, get yourself a real job, huh?

BELL-RINGER:
Up yours, Scrooge.

[~ Chuck continues to car, humming happily ~]

COP1:
Excuse me. Is this your vehicle?

CHUCK:
Yes, it is.

COP1:
Nice.

CHUCK:
Thank you. I'm going skiing.

COP1:
I don't think so.

CHUCK:
Excuse me?

COP1:
You're coming downtown with us. Scofflaw violation. We're impounding your car.

[~ Back in Crumb's office. Crumb is grilling Gary about the bomber. ~]

CRUMB:
A bomb in a skating rink.

GARY:
Yes, sir.

CRUMB:
This morning.

GARY:
That's right -- 10:45.

CRUMB:
But it hasn't happened yet?

GARY:
No.

CRUMB:
But it's going to. You're sure.

GARY:
Yes.

CRUMB:
And you know this because...

CRUMB and GARY together:
[I'd/You'd] rather not say.

CRUMB:
Because if you did...

CRUMB and GARY together:
[I/You] wouldn't believe [you/me].

CRUMB:
Who put you up to this, anyway?

GARY:
What?

CRUMB:
Is there some guy with a sick sense of humor, some comedy guy?

GARY:
I'm telling you the truth.

CRUMB:
Oh, sure you are, like all the other 87 hot tips we got today, huh?

GARY:
No. Look, this one is real. People are going to die. I'm just trying to help you here.

CRUMB:
Oh, of course you are. This is flat. Look, do me a favor. Go help somebody else, huh? Get him out of here.

[~ Officers start pulling Gary out of the office ~]

GARY:
Look, this is going to happen. Today, crumb. He's going to leave a note.

CRUMB:
Did you say a note?

[~ Officers plunk Gary back down into a chair ~]

CRUMB:
Okay, talk.

GARY:
About what?

CRUMB:
About the note. Where is it? What's it like? What's it say?

GARY:
Look, I don't know. All I know is it's found in the wreckage.

CRUMB:
Like these were? No one, not even the press, knew about these. We're keeping it secret. Now who told you?

GARY:
I can't tell you.

CRUMB:
Eight of these in three weeks all addressed to me. "Ha, ha, ha." "Fooled ya." This guy's giving me a headache.

GARY:
Well, look, I'm sorry about that.

CRUMB:
You're sorry? What about me? This is Christmas eve. I should be home with my kids. Instead, I'm sitting around with some guy who thinks he's the amazing Kreskin. What's worse, I'm starting to believe him. Now is that nuts? (To a nearby detective) Don't answer that. (To Gary) The bicentennial skating rink in less than an hour.

GARY:
Yeah.

CRUMB:
No... We're staying here.

POLICE WOCRUMBN:
Sir, mayor's calling again.

[~ In front of Police Department, District 4; Crumb heading towards cop car with Gary following. ~]

CRUMB:
I want bomb squad and S.W.A.T., and lots of communication. And warn the locals that we're coming in, but keep it quiet. I don't want to cause a panic.

GARY:
Excuse me, shouldn't you evacuate the rink over there?

CRUMB:
On what grounds, a little birdie told me?

GARY:
A little birdie?

CRUMB:
Look, people get cranky when you shut down their business on a hunch. Show me a bomb, and then we'll talk.

GARY:
Me? I don't know where the bomb is. I don't know exactly where it is, but --

CRUMB:
Come along for the ride. We'll have a lot of fun.

[~ Gary hesitates ~]

CRUMB:
Listen, Charlie --

GARY:
Gary. It's Gary.

CRUMB:
Whomever. You're not walking until I find this S.O.B. you want to guess why?

GARY:
Because it might be me.

CRUMB:
Bingo. It might be you. Get in the car.

[~ Gary gets in the car as another police car pulls up with Chuck in the back. Cut to interior of Police Department. Chuck is handcuffed, led by two cops. ~]

CHUCK:
Shouldn't you be solving murders or prosecuting drug dealers or something?

COP1:
This way.

CHUCK:
This is ridiculous.

DESK SERGEANT:
Who's this?

COP1:
Fishman, Charles.

CHUCK:
Chuck, as my good friend the congressman calls me.

DESK SERGEANT:
Which congressman?

CHUCK:
All of them. Look, sergeant, there's obviously been some sort of mistake here. These Nazis took my car. Now, I am willing to overlook --

DESK SERGEANT:
What's he in for?

COP1:
Parking tickets.

CHUCK:
See what I mean? Parking tickets.

DESK SERGEANT:
How many?

COP1:
106.

CHUCK:
OK, so I park a lot. It's a big city. It happens. You know, mail and schedules. I've been so busy lately, as I'm sure you have. To tell you the truth, I thought I already paid. So just tell me what the fine is, I'll pay it, and I'll be gone.

DESK SERGEANT:
Too late for that.

CHUCK:
Okay, then bail. How much is bail, a couple of hundred? A grand? I'll write you a check right now, okay? And then next week after I'm off the slopes --

DESK SERGEANT:
That's up to the judge.

CHUCK:
Judge? Where?

DESK SERGEANT:
Court convenes early Thursday morning.

CHUCK:
That's the day after tomorrow. What is this, some sort of joke? A little Yuletide humor?

[~ Cut to jail cell; doors close behind Chuck ~]

DESK SERGEANT:
Think of it as your personal manger.

CHUCK:
You can't do this. This isn't Bolivia. I'll call Johnnie Cochran! Oh, great. This is just perfect.

SANTA:
Think you've got problems? I'm late for work.

CHUCK:
Yeah, and who are you?

SANTA:
Santa Claus.

[~ Cut to commercial. Return with Gary and Crumb at skating rink. ~]

CRUMB:
Okay, this is it. How much time have we got?

GARY:
15 minutes, maybe less.

CRUMB:
Sure you don't want to change your story?

GARY:
No, this is going to happen. Trust me.

CRUMB:
I was afraid of that.

GARY:
Look, Crumb, can't we get these people out of here? Just to be on the safe side.

CRUMB:
You like skating?

GARY:
Huh?

CRUMB:
They like skating. They came here to skate. Let's look around first, okay?

GARY:
Yeah, well, you better look fast.

[~ Gary checks his paper again. Nothing has changed. ~]

GARY:
Oh, boy. Oh, boy.

[~ Jail cell. Chuck using his cellular phone. ~]

CHUCK:
Hey, aunt Marge, it's me, chuck Fishman. How are you? Your nephew, remember? Yeah. Hey, merry Christmas. Yeah, that's right, the scrawny one. Listen, aunt Marge, I'm in a bit of a spot here, and I -- no, no, no. I'm not coming to visit. Uh-huh. I'm in jail, and I've called everyone I know, and -- hello? Marge?

SANTA:
Cut off?

CHUCK:
Hung up.

SANTA:
She's like that.

CHUCK:
Who?

SANTA:
Marge.

CHUCK:
You know my aunt?

SANTA:
Oh, I know everyone. Been to the house.

CHUCK:
Oh, that's right, because you're, uh...

SANTA:
Uh-huh.

CHUCK:
Hey, can someone get in here? I'd like to make a complaint! Sergeant!

SANTA:
Name's Eddie. They used to call him stinker when he was 8. Don't bring it up. He's sensitive.

CHUCK:
Hello!

DESK SERGEANT:
Problem here?

CHUCK:
Yeah, I got a problem. When do I get out of this rat-trap?

DESK SERGEANT:
Once we run through your files. Computer's down right now.

CHUCK:
Well, get it back up.

DESK SERGEANT:
Have a little patience. It's Christmas eve. Give me that cellular phone. This is a jail.

CHUCK:
Hey, hey, hey. What's with this guy?

DESK SERGEANT:
Breaking and entering. We picked him up on a rooftop trying to sneak down a chimney. Meant to clean the whole place out.

SANTA:
It's not how it looked. Look, I don't want to seem pushy, but I need to be going. See, my sleigh's due to pick me up in a half-hour in the park.

DESK SERGEANT:
And then where, the north pole?

SANTA:
Well, Thailand. You know how it is. Once you get behind on a gig like this --

DESK SERGEANT:
Fruitcake.

SANTA:
A lot of kids are going to be disappointed.

CHUCK:
You really believe this, don't you?

SANTA:
Well, don't you?

CHUCK:
I think you're out of your mind.

SANTA:
Then you're going to get a lump of coal.

[~ Cut to skating rink. ~]

CRUMB:
Anything yet?

ASSISTANT DETECTIVE:
No sign of it anywhere.

CRUMB:
You checking the lockers?

ASSISTANT DETECTIVE:
Doing it now.

CRUMB:
Well?

GARY:
We just got to keep looking. It's got to be here somewhere.

CRUMB:
Of course it is, unless, of course, it ain't.

GARY:
What does that mean?

CRUMB:
Meaning maybe it's here, maybe it's not. Maybe it's on the moon, maybe you're the bomber, or maybe I'm just out of my mind.

GARY:
Well, that's a good possibility. Let me tell --

ASSISTANT DETECTIVE:
Nothing.

CRUMB:
All right, we're out of here. (To Gary) You have some explaining to do.

GARY:
What are you talking about? You can't leave.

CRUMB:
Try me.

GARY:
People are going to die, Crumb.

CRUMB:
Yeah, me from frostbite if I don't get out --

[~ Gary spies a little girl with a teddy bear. ~]

GARY:
Crumb, the bear.

GIRL:
Ha ha ha ha!

GARY:
Oh, my god!

[~ Gary rushes onto ice to get the bear. ~]

CRUMB:
(Shouts) Don't touch it! It's a bomb! (Realizes he just shouted) Did I say that?

GARY:
Get off the ice! Get off the ice! Get off the ice! Everybody off the ice! (To girl) Can I see your bear? Get off the ice!

[~ Gary gets bear from girl and tosses it across the rink. It slides up against the side wall but doesn't explode. Gary checks his paper, sees headline of: WHITE CHRISTMAS AFTER ALL. ~]

GARY:
It's gone.

[~ Jail cell. ~]

SANTA:
[~ whistles ~]

CHUCK:
Do you mind? The whistling.

SANTA:
Sorry. I'm concentrating.

CHUCK:
On what?

SANTA:
The list -- checking it the second time.

CHUCK:
I don't see any list.

SANTA:
Well, it's in my head. It'd take forever to put something like that down on paper. It's easier this way. It's kind of like that movie "Rain Man." Well, go ahead. Quiz me.

CHUCK:
I don't have time for your stupid games.

SANTA:
Of course you do. You're in prison. Go ahead. Any name. Try it.

CHUCK:
Martin Garolowitz.

SANTA:
Naughty.

CHUCK:
What?

SANTA:
Four years in a row. Next.

CHUCK:
Igor Strasofski.

SANTA:
Which one?

CHUCK:
The one in Budapest.

SANTA:
Father or son?

CHUCK:
Son.

SANTA:
Nice. See, it's really not that hard. See, I unscramble the letters and then alphabetize them into a code, you know.

CHUCK:
And how do you get there?

SANTA:
Where?

CHUCK:
Two billion homes in one night.

SANTA:
Oh, that. Yeah, well, it's really not that hard if you work the time zones. See, it's tomorrow in Asia when it's yesterday here. Of course, you have to wear a lot of watches to keep it all straight, but you kind of get used to that. Also, of course, those reindeer go like bats out of hell. Wheeeeeeewwwwww!

CHUCK:
Help!

[~ Skating rink. Crumb reading the note attached to bear. ~]

CRUMB:
"Dear Detective Crumb: Watch out for THIN ICE!" What is this, some kind of a joke?

ASSISTANT DETECTIVE:
I think it's a pun.

CRUMB:
You think it's a pun?

ASSISTANT DETECTIVE:
You know, ice, thin ice.

CRUMB:
Get out of here. You know what I think? I think this is getting personal.

GARY:
Something's wrong. It was supposed to explode.

CRUMB:
This?

GARY:
The bomb. It was supposed to explode, but there is no bomb.

CRUMB:
Very astute observation.

GARY:
Look, this guy, he's following us. Whoever he is, he knows where we're going. What are you doing?

CRUMB:
Looks like snow. You got any feeling about that, one way or the other?

GARY:
About what?

CRUMB:
Because if you did, you could be a weatherman instead of, you know, a deputy sheriff.

GARY:
You still don't believe me, do you?

CRUMB:
I'm letting you go, not that I still don't have my suspicions. It's just that you're making me crazy with this "should be" and "supposed to be." I mean, what are you, one of those magic eight balls?

GARY:
All I'm trying to do is help you out.

CRUMB:
Do me a favor -- don't.

GARY:
All right, I won't! Merry Christmas... You old goat.

[~ Gary pulls the paper out for another look-see, reads headline: CHRISTMAS EVE BOMB KILLS 30 AT DEPARTMENT STORE. ~]

GARY:
Oh, no.

[~ Jail cell. ~]

CHUCK:
Goodbye, stretch pants. Goodbye, fireplace. Goodbye, weekend in heaven.

SANTA:
You're pretty broken up about this, aren't you?

CHUCK:
Wouldn't you be? My car's in hock, my life is a mess, and I'm stuck here in jail with a raving lunatic on Christmas eve.

SANTA:
Things just never work out for you, do they?

CHUCK:
Who asked you?

SANTA:
Problem is you don't believe.

CHUCK:
Could you just shut up?

SANTA:
It's too bad. You started out as a good kid, as I remember. Of course, that was some time ago, and there was that Christmas. You were 9.

CHUCK:
Wrong. I was 8. Shows you how much you know.

SANTA:
No, you were 9. I'm sure of it.

CHUCK:
8.

SANTA:
9.

CHUCK:
8.

SANTA:
Are you absolutely positive?

CHUCK:
I was 8 when I asked for the sled.

SANTA:
Fine, then you were 8. But that sled -- what kind was it again?

CHUCK:
L.L. Bean.

SANTA:
No. Flexible flyer. The one with the, uh...

CHUCK:
Fins on the back.

SANTA:
You're making that up.

CHUCK:
You're, uh... You're pretty good at this, aren't you?

SANTA:
Well, I try to be. But you didn't get it, did you, that sled? It went to someone else.

CHUCK:
Inky bowers.

SANTA:
Inky bowers. I never liked that kid. And you always wondered why it went to him. Because you didn't believe. See, there's a price you have to pay for that. Not believing's a big one.

CHUCK:
Okay, that's enough. Let's just stop right there. You're not Santa Claus, I'm not a dope, and I want out now. Hello, sergeant whatever-your-name-is! I demand to be moved! I have my rights, you know! I want a new cell! Hello!

[~ There is a thudding noise as Santa falls to the floor. ~]

CHUCK:
Oh, my god.

[~ Jail cell, short time later ~]

CHUCK:
Is he sick?

DESK SERGEANT:
Hard to tell. My guess is he's faking, but I'll call a medic.

CHUCK:
Wait! Wait! You're not going to leave me here alone with him, are you? What if he spasms or something? I'm really not very good with death. Oh, no, I'm serious. Hey, buddy. Oh, man. This has been some day.

SANTA:
[~ Whistles and makes a snorting noise. ~] Need to get to the sleigh.

CHUCK:
What?

SANTA:
Waiting there at Lincoln park. Got to get there. Otherwise, no good.

CHUCK:
Oh, man. Come on. What is this?

SANTA:
[~ coughs and snorts ~]

CHUCK:
Okay, nice try. I know what you're trying to do -- you're trying to make me help you get out of here, is that it?

SANTA:
Going to start coughing up blood.

CHUCK:
Oh, no, don't do that.

SANTA:
Kids depending on me. Need your help!

CHUCK:
No! No need my help! No! No!

[~ Strangled breath, gurgle noises and spasms from Santa ~]

CHUCK:
Okay, okay! Fine, fine! How?

[~ Santa produces a set of keys. ~]

[~ Jail cell, a short time later. ~]

MEDIC:
Where is he?

DESK SERGEANT:
Cell number 38.

MEDIC:
What's wrong with him?

DESK SERGEANT:
You're the paramedic. You tell me.

[~ Cell is empty ~]

DESK SERGEANT:
My keys!

[~ Cut to commercial ~]

CONTINUE TO PART 2


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