"merry christmas,grandpa." "oh,merry christmas to you,stevie." "did you bring me any presents?" "now,why would i want to do that?" "'cause it's christmas." "oh,i thought santa claus brought the presents at christmas." "you have been a good boy this year,haven't you?" "i have,i swear." "well,then,who knows?" "maybe he'll come." "santa!" "reindeer." "santa?" "um,my daughter and i were in our beds." "mike was downstairs decorating the tree." "i heard a thump on the roof, and then i-i heard mike scream, and now i'm talking to the fbi." "and you didn't see any of it?" "no,he was...he was just gone." "the doors were locked?" "there was no forced entry?" "that's right." "does anybody else have a key?" "my parents." "where do they live?" "florida." "thanks for letting me have a look around,mrs. walsh." "i think we,uh,got just about everything we need." "we're all set." "we'll be in touch." "agents... t-the police said my husband might have been kidnapped." "could be." "then why haven't the kidnappers called o-or -- or demanded a ransom?" "it's three days till christmas." "what am i supposed to tell our daughter?" "we're very sorry." "find anything?" "stockings,mistletoe...this." "a tooth?" "where was this?" "in the chimney." "no way a man fits up a chimney.it's too narrow." "no way he fits up in one piece." "all right,so,if dad went up the chimney -- we need to find out what dragged him up there." "so,was i right?" "is it the serial-killing chimney sweep?" "yep." "it's,uh,it's actually dick van dyke." "who?" ""mary poppins."who's that?" "oh,come on --never mind." "it turns out that walsh is the second guy in town grabbed out of his house this month." "oh,yeah?" "yeah." "the other guy get dragged up the chimney,too?" "don't know. witnesses said they heard a thump on the roof." "so,what the hell do you think we're dealing with?" "actually,i have an idea.yeah?" "it's,uh,it's gonna sound crazy." "what could you possibly say that sounds crazy to me?" "evil santa." "yeah,that's crazy." "yeah...i mean,i'm just saying that there's some version of the anti-claus in every culture." "you got belsnickel,krampus,black peter." "whatever you want to call it,there's all sorts of lore." "saying what?" "saying back in the day,santa's brother went rogue, and now he shows up around christmastime." "instead of bringing presents,he punishes the wicked." "by hauling their ass up chimneys?" "for starters,yeah." "so,this is your theory,huh?" "santa's shady brother?" "well,i'm just saying,that's what the lore says." "santa doesn't have a brother.there is no santa." "yeah,i know." "you're the one who told me that in the first place remember?" "yeah,you know what?" "i could be wrong." "i got to be wrong." "maybe,maybe not." "what?" "i did a little digging --turns out both victims visited the same place before they got snatched." "where?" "it does kind of lend credence to the theory,don't it?" "yeah,but anti-claus?" "couldn't be." "it's a christmas miracle." "hey,speaking of,we should have one this year." "have one what?" "a christmas." "no,thanks." "no,we'll get a tree,a little boston market -- just like when we were little." "dean,those weren't exactly hallmark memories for me." "what are you talking about?" "we had some great christmases." "whose childhood are you talking about?" "oh,come on,sam." "no,just...no." "all right,grinch." "what is that?" "a present for dad." "yeah,right." "where'd you get the money --steal it?" "no. uncle bobby gave it to me to give to him." "said it was real special." "what is it?" "a pony." "very funny." "dad's gonna be here,right?" "he'll be here." "it's christmas." "he knows." "and he'll be here --promise." "where is he,anyway?" "on business." "what kind of business?" "you know that." "he sells stuff." "what kind of stuff?" "stuff." "nobody ever tells me anything." "then quit asking." "is dad a spy?" "mm-hmm.he's james bond." "why do we move around so much?" "'cause everywhere we go,they get sick of your face." "i'm old enough,dean. you can tell me the truth." "you don't want to know the truth. believe me." "is that why we never talk about...mom?" "shut up!" "don't you ever talk about mom -- ever!" "wait.where are you going?" "out." "you'd think with the 10 bucks it costs to get into this place, santa could scrounge up a little snow." "what?" "nothing.what are we looking for,again?" "lore says that the anti-claus will walk with a limp and smell like sweets." "great. so we're looking for a pimp santa." "why the sweets?" "think about it,dean." "if you smell like candy the kids will come closer,you know?" "that's creepy." "how does this thing know who's been naughty and who's been nice?" "i don't know." "so,ronny,come sit on santa's knee." "ah,there you go." "you been a good boy this year?" "yeah good." "santa's got a special gift for you maybe we do" "welcome to santa's court." "can i escort your child to santa?" "n-no. no." "uh,but,actually,my brother here -- it's been a lifelong dream of his." "uh,sorry.no kids over...12." "no,he's just kidding.we only came here to watch." "i-i didn't mean that we came here to w--y thanks a lot,dean.thanks for that." "check it out." "are you seeing this?" "a lot of people walk with limps,right?" "tell me you didn't smell that.that was candy,man." "that was ripple -- i think.had to be." "maybe. we willing to take that chance?" "what time is it?" "same as the last time you asked." "here." "caffeinate." "wonderful." "hey,sam... yeah?" "why are you the boy that hates christmas?" "dean...i mean,i admit it -- we had a few bumpy holidays when we were kids."bumpy"?" "that was then.we'll do it right this year." "look,dean,if you want to have christmas knock yourself out." "just don't involve me." "oh,yeah,that'd be great -- me and myself making cranberry molds." "what's up with saint nicotine?" "what?" "nothing." "it's just that,uh...well,you know, mr. gung ho christmas might have to blow away santa." "what the hell are you doing here?" "i'm really not interested,okay?" "jingle my bells... s-silent night" "holy night ...night * all is well * all is well * all is dry * bright * 'round and 'round * the table... santa,you're early!" "so,that's how your son described the attack?" ""santa took daddy up the chimney"?" "that's what he says,yes." "and where were you?" "i was asleep." "and all of a sudden i was being dragged out of bed,screaming." "did you see the attacker?" "it was dark,and he hit me." "he knocked me out." "i'm sorry.i know this is hard." "yeah...um,mrs. caldwell, where did you get that wreath above the fireplace?" "excuse me?" "just curious,you know." "wreaths,huh?" "sure you didn't want to ask her about her shoes?" "i saw some nice handbags in the foyer." "we've seen that wreath before,dean." "where?" "the walshes'.yesterday." "i know,i was just testing you." "yeah. all right.well,keep looking,would you?" "thanks,bobby." "what did bobby say?" "uh,that we're morons." "he also said that it was probably meadowsweet in those wreaths." "wow!" "amazing." "what the hell is meadowsweet?" "it's pretty rare, and it's probably the most powerful plant in pagan lore." "pagan lore?" "yeah." "see,they used meadowsweet for human sacrifices." "it was kind of like a...chum for their gods." "gods were drawn to it,and they'd stop by and snack on whatever was the nearest human." "why would somebody be using that for christmas wreaths?" "it's not as crazy as it sounds,dean." "i mean,pretty much every christmas tradition is pagan." "christmas is jesus' birthday." "no,jesus' birthday was probably in the fall." "it was actually the winter solstice festival that was co-opted by the church and renamed "christmas."" "but the yule log,the tree,even santa's red suit that's all remnants of pagan worship." "how do you know that?" "what are you gonna tell me next?" "easter bunny's jewish?" "so,you think we're dealing with a pagan god?" "yeah,probably hold nickar,god of the winter solstice." "and all these martha stewart wannabes, buying these fancy wreaths... it's pretty much like putting a neon sign on your front door saying,"come kill us."" "great." "when you sacrifice to hold nickar, guess what he gives you in return." "lap dances,hopefully." "mild weather." "like no snow in the middle of december in the middle of michigan. for instance." "do we know how to kill it yet?" "no,bobby's working on that right now." "we got to figure out where they're selling those wreaths." "you think they're selling them on purpose?" "feeding the victims to this thing?" "let's find out." "help you boys?" "uh,hope so." "uh,we were playing jenga with the walshes the other night, and he hasn't shut up since about this christmas wreath." "i don't know.you tell him." "sure." "it was yummy." "i sell a lot of wreaths,guys." "right,right,but you see, this one would have been really special." "it had,uh,it had,uh,green leaves,um,white buds on it." "it might have been made of,uh,meadowsweet?" "well...aren't you a fussy one?" "he is." "anyway,i know the one you're talking about." "i'm all out." "seems like this meadowsweet stuff's rare and expensive." "why make wreaths out of it?" "beats me.i didn't make them." "who did?" "madge carrigan a local lady." "said the wreaths were so special,she gave them for free." "she didn't charge you?" "nope." "did you sell them for free?" "hell,no.it's christmas." "people pay a buttload for this crap." "that's the spirit." "how much do you think a meadowsweet wreath would cost?" "a couple hundred dollars,at least." "this lady's giving them away for free?" "what do you think about that?" "well,sounds pretty suspicious." "remember that wreath dad brought home that one year?" "do you mean the one he stole from,like,a liquor store?" "yeah,it was a bunch of empty beer cans." "that thing was great." "i bet if i looked around hard enough, i could probably find one just like it." "all right... dude... what's going on with you?" "what?" "i mean,since when are you bing crosby all of a sudden?" "why do you want to do christmas so bad?" "why are you so against it?" "were your childhood memories that traumatic?" "no,that has nothing to do with it." "then what?" "i mean,i-i just --i don't get it." "you haven't talked about christmas in years." "well,yeah." "this is my last year." "i know." "that's why i can't." "what do you mean?" "i mean i can't just sit around, drinking eggnog,pretending everything's okay when i know next christmas you'll be dead." "i just can't." "thought you went out." "yeah.to get you dinner." "don't forget your vegetables." "i know why you keep a gun under your pillow." "no,you don't.stay out of my stuff." "and i know why we lay salt down everywhere we go." "no,you don't.shut up." "where'd you get that?" "that's dad's!" "he's gonna kick your ass for reading that." "are monsters real?" "what?" "you're crazy." "tell me." "i swear,if you ever tell dad i told you any of this, i will end you." "promise." "well,the first thing you have to know is we have the coolest dad in the world." "he's a superhero." "he is?" "yeah." "monsters are real." "dad fights them." "he's fighting them right now." "but dad said the monsters under my bed weren't real." "that's 'cause he had already checked under there." "but,yeah,they're real." "almost everything's real." "is santa real?" "no." "if monsters are real,then they could get us." "they could get me. dad's not gonna let them get you." "but what if they get him?" "they aren't gonna get dad." "dad's,like,the best." "i read in dad's book that they got mom." "it's complicated,sam." "if they got mom,they can get dad." "and if they get dad,they can get us." "it's not like that." "okay,dad's fine." "we're fine." "trust me." "you okay?" "yeah." "hey,dad's gonna be here for christmas... just like he always is." "i just want to go to sleep,okay?" "yeah,okay." "it'll all be better when you wake up." "you'll see." "promise." "this is where mrs. wreath lives,huh?" "can't you just feel the evil pagan vibe?" "yes?" "please tell me you're the madge carrigan who makes the meadowsweet wreaths." "why,yes,i am." "ha!" "bingo." "well,we were just admiring your wreaths in mr. sylar's place the other day." "you were?" "well,isn't that meadowsweet just the finest-smelling thing you ever smelled?" "it sure is." "but the problem is,is all your wreaths had sold out before we got the chance to buy one. oh,fudge!" "you wouldn't have another one that we could buy from you?" "no,i'm afraid those were the only ones i had for this season." "tell me something -- why did you decide to make them out of meadowsweet?" "why,the smell,of course!" "i don't think i've ever smelled anything finer." "yeah,um,you mentioned that." "what's going on,honey?" "well,just some nice boys asking about my wreaths,dear." "oh,the wreaths are fine. fine wreaths." "oh,care for some peanut brittle?" "we're okay." "i knew it!" "something was way off with those two." "what'd you find?" "the carrigans lived in seattle last year, where two abductions took place right around christmas." "they moved here in january." "all that christmas crap in their house wasn't boughs of holly." "it was vervain and mint." "pagan stuff?" "serious pagan stuff." "so,what,ozzie and harriet are keeping a pagan god hidden underneath their plastic-covered couch?" "i don't know. we got to check them out." "so,what about bobby?" "he's sure evergreen stakes will kill this thing,right?" "yeah,he's sure." "see?" "plastic." "hey,dean." "sam!" "gosh,i wish you boys hadn't come down here." "dean?" "you okay?" "yeah,i think so." "so,i guess we're dealing with mr. and mrs. god." "nice to know." "ooh,and here we thought you two lazybones were gonna sleep straight through all the fun stuff." "miss all this?" "nah,we're partyers." "isn't he a kick in the pants,honey?" "you're hunters is what you are." "and you're pagan gods." "so,why don't we just call it even and go our separate ways?" "so you can bring more hunters and kill us?" "i don't think so!" "you should have thought about that before snacking on humans." "oh,now,don't get all wet." "oh,why,we used to take over a hundred tributes a year." "and that's a fact." "now what do we take?" "what,two?" "three?" "hardy boys here make five." "now,that's not so bad,is it?" "you say it like that,you guys are the cunninghams." "you,mister,better show us a little respect." "or what?" "you'll eat us?" "not so fast." "there's rituals to be followed first." "oh,we're just sticklers for ritual." "and you know what kicks off the whole shebang?" "let me guess --meadowsweet." "oh,shucks --you're all out of wreaths." "i guess we'll just have to cancel the sacrifice,huh?" "oh,don't be such a gloomy gus." "there." "don't they just look darling?" "good enough to eat." "all righty-roo. step number two." "sammy." "sammy!" "d-don't!" "leave him alone,you son of a bitch!" "hear how they talk to us?" "to gods?" "listen,pal,back in the day,we were worshiped by millions." "times have changed!" "tell me about it." "all of a sudden,this jesus character is the hot new thing in town." "all of a sudden,our altars are being burned down, and we're being hunted down like common monsters." "but did we say a peep?" "oh,no,no,no,we did not." "two millennium." "we kept a low profile. we got jobs,a mortgage." "we --what was that word,dear?" "we assimilated." "yeah,we assimilated." "why,we play bridge on tuesdays and fridays." "we're just like everybody else." "you're not blending in as smooth as you think,lady." "this might pinch a bit,dear." "you bitch!" "oh,my goodness me!" "somebody owes a nickel to the swear jar." "oh,do you know what i say when i feel like swearing?" ""fudge."" "i'll try and remember that!" "you boys have no idea how lucky you are." "there was a time when kids came from miles around just to be sitting where you are." "what do you think you're doing with those?" "you fudging touch me again,i'll fudging kill you!" "very good." "no,don't." "oh,we've got a winner!" "what else,dear?" "well,let's see. uh,fingernail,blood... i forgot the tooth!" "oh,dear!" "merry christmas,sam." "open wide... and say,"ahh."" "somebody gonna get that?" "you should get that." "come on." "merry christmas!" "i told you i smelled fruitcake." "you shouldn't have." "oh,bite your tongue. it's my pleasure." "it looks scrumptious!" "neal and i are going caroling. you care to join?" "you know,we would... it's my back -- darn thing's giving me fits." "oh,well,that's a shame." "oh,well. merry christmas. -and to you,too,dear." "hey,are we still on for bridge tomorrow?" "with bells on!" "yes!" "okay,bye. -bye-bye." "now,where were we?" "what do we do now?" "!" "the evergreen stake's in the basement!" "well,we need more evergreen,dean!" "i think i just found us some more." "help me get this." "go!" "come on!" "you little thing.... i loved that tree." "madge!" "merry christmas." "sam,wake up." "dad was here.look what he brought." "dad was here?" "yeah. look at this.we made a killing." "why didn't he try to wake me up?" "he tried to,like a thousand times." "he did?" "yeah. did i tell you he would give us christmas or what?" "go on,dive in." "what is it?" "sapphire barbie?" "dad probably thinks you're a girl." "shut up." "open that one." "dad never showed,did he?" "yeah,he did,i swear." "dean...where'd you get all this stuff?" "nice house up the block." "i swear i didn't know they were chick presents." "look,i'm sure dad would have been here if he could." "if he's alive." "don't say that." "of course he's alive." "he's dad." "here. take this." "no. no,that's for dad." "dad lied to me." "i want you to have it." "you sure?" "i'm sure." "thank you,sam. i-i love it." "hey. you get the beer?" "what's all this?" "what do you think it is?" "it's -- it's christmas." "what made you change your mind?" "here,uh... try the eggnog." "let me know if it needs some more kick." "no,we're good." "yeah?" "yeah." "good. well,uh,have a seat." "let's do christmas stuff or whatever." "all right,first thing's first." "merry christmas,sam." "where'd you get these?" "someplace special." "the gas mart down the street." "open them up." "well,great minds think alike,dean." "really?" "there you go." "come on!" "skin mags!" "and... shaving cream." "you like?" "yeah. yeah." "look at this fuel for me and fuel for my baby." "these are awesome. thanks." "good." "merry christmas,bro." "here,merry christmas." "do you feel like watching the game?" "absolutely." "all right."