02x10 - For Whom the Jingle Bell Tolls

[bunniefuu]

We join Earthworm Jim one fine

evening at his super secret headquarters.

Perfect.

Tasteful yet festive.

Well, what do you think, Peter?Jim, Are

you sure you know what secret

headquarters means?

What's your point, fuzz butt-o-mind?

Queen pulsating, bloated, festering,

sweaty, pus-filled, malformed sl*t for a

butt Earthworm Jim,

I shall destroy you!

And you too, you mutt! Hey,

you made me toss my cookies.

Eat! Festive dirt! Get the

spoiler of holidays!

Wait! I almost forgot.

For me, you shouldn't have.

Oh, torrent nothin'. This is so

sweet.

You gave me that last year!

Sorry your display got ruined, Jim. Hmm

Well, at least we still have the true

spirit of Christmas. Pretending to like

all the lousy presents you get?You got

it, fuzz buddy.

Earthworm Jim The soil he did crawl

Earthworm Jim A super suit did fall Jim

was just a dirt Eating chewing lengths of

worm flesh But all that came to a crash

again Earthworm Jim He's

such a groovy guy Earthworm Jim He

rockets through the sky Cruising through

the universe, having lots of fun Here

comes Earthworm Jim, you know that he's a

mighty one

Despite his great big muscles And his

really big gray g*n Jim is still an

earthworm But then he's the only one With

a super suit to make him really super

strong Jim can be a winner if we only

sing along All right! Earthworm Jim We

think he's mighty fine Earthworm Jim A

hero for all time Worm, worm,

earthworm, earthworm Earthworm Jim

Go groovy!

On for insectica, Queen Slug

Robot engages in an unspeakably vile

activity. Exercise.

Looking good, your malformed nurse. Well,

I feel good about myself, and that's the

important thing. Ah, yes, for if we

cannot love ourselves, the toads of

fate shall feast upon our entrails. Oh,

hark, I hear their dread approach. Wow,

I didn't make you the official palace

loony for nothing. Oh, thank you, your

pus-filledness. Now, tell

me about this earthling Christmas.

It's quite simple, actually. Santa Claus

travels to every home on Earth in one

night. Leaving gifts for every good

little girl and boy, and-- Cang

on! The Toads of Fate are one thing, but

that's just plain ridiculous! But your

festerance, he has a magical flying

sleigh! A magical flying sleigh?

Well, why didn't you say so in the first

place?My mistake,

your blurtitude. I mean, it

sounded so absurd, but once you mentioned

the magical sleigh, it all made perfect

sense!Yasm, I have it on the

highest authority in the universe,

Earth Television.

Jorgen vin Borgen, Sister Klaus.

Oof ka! Now, tell Paul

the truth, or Santa Claus will leave a

lump of coal in your stocking. Uh-huh,

yeah, right, Pops. Today's

topic. Kids who caught their moms

kissing Santa Claus, and moms who are

proud of it. You see, for one month of

each year, virtually everything on Earth

Television is about Santa and Christmas.

It must be true. This

Santa visits every

home on Earth in one night. What

fantastic power he must have.

I shall bend him to my evil will and use

him to conquer the Earth!

Later, at Santa's quaint North Pole

workshop... h*, h*, h*, h*!

Little problem with this fashion

doll beach house. It fits

together perfectly! Oh,

Fritz! Go

through these boxes and remove all the

tabs marked see. But first,

Help Santa off with his boots.

Oh, not that. Anything like

that. h*, h*, h*! Don't crush me, boy!Ohh

Ay, chihuahua. Somebody's dogs are

barking tonight. I'm going

to turn you from the symbol of all

that's good. Into the ultimate

icon of evil!

Oh, boy! Someone's going on the

naughty list!

Meanwhile, urgent superhero business

brings Jim to the Turlock Mall.

Coming through! One sec! Lady with a

baby! Jim, you have to wait in line

for Santa like everybody else. Oh,

but the longer I wait, the wetter Santa's

lap gets. You know, this

Santa guy is very suspicious, especially

the naughty and nice thing. You know, who

is he to judge us anyway?I ought to

kick his butt

But my inedible fruitcake of seasonal

delight, that's not the real Santa. Not

the real Santa!

No, Mall Santas are merely the actual

Santa's duly deputized representatives

ordained in a mysterious arcane ceremony

held under cover of darkness at the North

Pole. I'm told the whole thing is very

spiritual and touching. So,

how does the real Santa know what you

want for Christmas?

I'm glad you asked, Princess. The Mall

Santas are connected to him via a psychic

link which operates through their magical

phony beards. Where did you hear all

this, anyway?The voices in my

head called me.

It's my turn! Hiya,

Santy! Hi. It's my

old cellmate, Walter. Hiya,

Floss. So what you gonna want for

Christmas?A pony, a pony, a pony! A

speckled red and white, silky-maned,

lovable, cuddly little-- Get the halt!

My psychical beard link tell me the real

Santa Claus is in terrible danger. But

what about

my pony?X-mas minus Santa equal

no pony, floppy disk kid. Come

my stalwart lumberjacks. We must save

Santa and my pony.

And so our heroes rock into the snowy

wastes of the North Pole.

Gasp of horror! Santa is gone.

And no Santa means no

Christmas! Oh, well, at least we still

have Hanukkah and Kwanzaa. You don't

understand, puppy boy! Without Christmas,

the U.S. economy will collapse, anarchy

will reign! And I won't get my pony!

Your point?We are doomed! Doomed, I

tell ya! Doomed for those keeping

score at home!

When we left our heroes, they had just

discovered that Santa had been kidnapped.

So Santa disappeared and

no one noticed. What kind of

elves are you?Well,

actually, we just call ourselves elves to

get the babes. Oh, does it work?Not even

a little. So you're foul

elves. You still should have seen where

Santa went. Hey, hey, heyWhen we're on

the clock, we keep our eyes on our work.

You don't want to know what happens if

the big guy catches you slacking.

Let's just say it involves figgy pudding.

A hero's

search for Santa takes them to his

favorite hangout, the Personifications of

Abstract Concepts Club.

Santa?Sure, I've seen Santa. In every

stinking shopping mall, in every stinking

street corner, at the end of every

stinking Christmas parade!

Oh, boy! I even saw a stinking

cartoon about him! Oh,

man! I hope they didn't do that same old

worn-out story where Santa gets kidnapped

and... Do I detect a note of

jealousy?Hey, I work just as hard as

that overgrown pixie. But do I get all

the media attention?No! No

But didn't I see you in some Swedish

movie?Oh, Swedish. Big wow.

And was I played by Burl Ives?I don't

think so.

Begging your pardon there, Jimbo. I don't

mind the vicious mauling. But you spilled

my malt, uhIf you ask me, Santa

got what was coming to him.

Santa, I'll tell you something about

Santa. Will you shut up about Santa

already?Give it a rest! He treats you

like garbage. He bars you

from all the reindeer games. Then

one fine Christmas Eve, he needs your

shiny nose. And he suddenly all

smiles and h*, h*, h*s. It

was you! What snatch Santa, wasn't it?

Spill the beans or a hard reindeer's

gonna fall. It wasn't me, I

swear! It was some insect with a

butt the size of a Macy's parade

balloon. Rush Limbaugh!

No, Jim, Queen Slug for a butt

Oh, right. Next up,

Insectica.

Meanwhile, the Queen tries to brainwash

all the jolliness out of Santa and make

him a pawn of evil. Socks and

underwear. Prepare to die, old one.

Poni, the tree's on fire! Insert

Tabby into Tabsie. Oh, where the

heck is Tabsie?Stop!

Underwear! Prepare and guide! Oh, what?

Poni, the tree's on fire! That should do

it. Try to be jolly now, round

belly!

Repeat after me. I am an

evil death dealing doom machine.

I am an evil death. Dealing Doom

Machine. I am a jolly old elf,

and you'll laugh when you see me in spite

of yourself. h*, h*, h*!

Grant high or strong! I am an

evil, death-dealing Doom Machine!

Oh, like you couldn't just say snap out

of it. Where's the fun in that?

h*, h*, h*!

The time has come for drastic measures!

Go ahead, Claws. You're about to h* your

last h*! Microchip, did you wash

your hands?I spit on him and wiped him on

my pants. Good enough. This microchip

will make you my elderly, overweight

sl*ve. And who couldn't use one of

those?There! Now

I must test him to see if he's truly

evil. Repeat after

me. Good is bad.

Bad is good. Good

is bad. Bad

is... Good. Val Kilmer was

okay, but for my money, nobody fills a

pair of tights like Adam West. Val Kilmer

was okay, but for my money, nobody

fills a pair of tights like Adam West.

Yes, he is truly

evil!

Now we'll visit every home on Earth, just

as Santa does every year. But instead of

gifts, he'll bring mind control,

microchips! All the good little

girls and boys of Earth will be my

mindless sl*ves. Okay,

Pilgrim. Saddle up!

Mindless sl*ves, saddle

up.

Your sad-napping days are over!Not a

fast earthworm, Jim. Blast me and...

the Archbug gets it! Blast.

She's got a hostage. Jim, he's one of the

bad guys. Good point, Fuzzbuddy.

Lady, I'm calling your bluff!

The toads of fate are nigh! I

knew those aerobics would come in handy.

That was not only painful, but remarkably

unpleasant. Come on, old

Nick. The children of Earth are

expecting us.

Yeah. The pathetic little suckers.

Oh, no. She's brainwashed Santa. I can

kiss that pony goodbye. Never

kiss a pony

and just so you don't feel lonely.

Now we're fortune. You are doomed!

'Tis the night before Christmas, and all

through Insectica, not a creature is

stirring. Unless you count the Zerbs who

are about to blast our heroes into a

cloud of free-floating subatomic

particles. Not if I have anything to say

about it!

Nicely done, my detached retina, Whoopi!

Oh, my sister

used to pull that on me every year, right

after saying, Happy birthday!

Later, in a typical earthling home...

Come on! Give it a

yes for your hunt!

Well, now I know how a heavy Hungarian

dinner feels. Well, let's see who

lives here. Emmet and Susie, six and

ten. She's been a good girl, though she

had that armed robbery conviction. It

doesn't matter if they've been good or

not! We're here to implant microchips in

their brains! Oh, right. Implants.

h*-h*! I mean...

Hello. What's this?

Raisins! I hate raisins!

These pathetic fools deserve whatever

they get. Now let's find the

kids.

Sorry, wrong worm. Go to sleep.

If it's going to upset you this much, you

shouldn't watch the news.

Well, that's just perfect.

Jim, now! Now,

Queenie, your yuletide reign of terror is

at an end. Nuh-uh.

Oh, darn it. Come at your sis.

Tear me off a piece of that action,

princess. You and me will employ

no holds barred.

Oh, it's no use. I can't fight Santa.

The symbol of all that's good. The spirit

of Christmas. Prepare for. The

kissing ball of utter destruction.

Oh, Santa, Santa. Remember

Christmas?It's a time of fruitcakes and

undercooked Turkey, of hazardous electric

lights, and TV specials featuring

celebrities who should never sing in

public. A time when children's heads

should be filled with visions of sugar

plums, not microchips.

Santa is so moved by Jim's speech that

the microchip in his brain burns out.

Owie. What?What am I doing?

I can't destroy Christmas. I

knew you'd come through. Now watch me

pull your chestnuts out of the open

flood. Ouchy!

No. If Christmas is in danger,

I shall save it. But aren't you a

little, you know, old and fat?

You may know me as Santa Claus, but in my

younger days, I was... Woah! Oh,

my goodness. Norse, god of

judgment, let the naughty

tremble before my awesome

mates! Yo-h*-h*!

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.

And he kicks butt

Oh, Jim, they're

beautiful! Antenna warmers. I knit

'em myself. How about you, fuzz buddy?

Like your gift?Great. An automatic

haggis maker. Yeah, yeah Just add the

heart, lungs, liver, and stomach of a

sheep, and presto! Uh, don't

forget your present, Jim. Oh,

yeah!Gosh, I

wonder what it could be. Thanks for

saving Christmas. Don't feed the pony

rocks like you did with a kitten. S.

Claws.

This is the bestest Christmas

ever!