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Our story begins, as so many stories do, in a bedroom. Mother is busy putting Dick and Ann to bed. It must be Christmas Eve because there's magic in the air and cheesy organ music piped through every room. Of course, there's some good-natured stalling, but that's to be expected -- It's Christmas Eve! No kid ever goes to bed early on Christmas Eve, unless you drug their goodnight glass of water.

ACTUAL DIALOGUE

DICK: MOMMYSANNAGAHBEAHSUNE?

MOTHER (like she's talking to Lassie): Yes children, but Santa won't be here until you and Ann are sleeping.

DICK: GOODNIGHT ANN

ANN: GOODNIGHTDICK GOODNIGHTMOMMY AND DADDY

DICK: MOMMYSAY GOODNIGHT TO DADDY FOR ME.

MOTHER: All right, I'll tell him goodnight for both of you.

DICK: MOMMYCANNI HAVE A DRINK OF WATER?

(at this point Ann looks uncomfortable and rightly so; Dick's on the top bunk.)

MOTHER: You had a drink already. Now children, it's time to go to sleep.

(she turns around and just leaves.)

(Spatch suddenly realizes the bedroom is actually part of the department store used to film later scenes -- heck, this entire film was probably shot in that one department store.)


But sleep is not for Dick and Ann, as they stay up late telling dirty jokes and wondering if Santa ever got their letters. And then as the children suddenly fade out of focus (ah ha! The drugs work!) the Narrator comes out of freakin' nowhere and says yes, of course, far up in the North Pole, Santa is reading their letter now.

Santa's got himself a fine swinging pad here, indeed! No frivolous holiday decorations for the modern, Atomic Age Santa Claus, no sir! An empty curio shelf and some dried something-or-other in a vase is all he needs for that special time-of-year cheer. He leans back in his upholstered La-Z-Boy and reads Dick and Ann's letter:

But what's this? Santa finds something else in the envelope. A first draft, perhaps?

Aw, isn't that cute? And they even spelled it "anthracks", the scamps.

Well, such fine, polite children deserve a trip to the North Pole, and as Santa reasons, boys and girls all over the world want to know how Santa lives. And since they're too young to read the Playboy interview with Santa this month, jolly ol' St. Nick calls on his most trusted elf, who's named Tubby or Tommy or Tony or something. Santa's not too clear on the ol' enunciation at this point.

And out comes Tubby or Tommy or Tony or whoever he is, skippin' about the room in tights. At least, I hope he's wearing tights. The quality of the film is bad, but I honestly believe they wouldn't let a kid run around Santaland with no pants on. Garsh, no!

Santa instructs Tubby or Tommy or Tony or whoever the hell he is to take the "Magic Helicopter" and bring the two children over to visit. He also makes a list for the packy run, and ensures Tubbytommytony has his proper fake ID (under the name "Gladys Newcomb") and off Triple T goes to kidnap two children from their very own beds in the dead of night.


See? See the showroom lighting in the upper right? Department store, baby!

And after some offscreen prompting (watch the shadow in the left-hand corner if you view the film) in comes the no-pantsed elf, delivering his grand speech with a cadence that'd make Paul Harvey blink and make a face.

TUBBYTOMMYTONY: Wake up. Wake up. Santa sent me here, to take you to the North, Pole. Hurry up and get dressed, and we will fly to Sanna.