Threadbare South Park
Episode #7: "Mistletoe Immunity: A Musical Christmas Adventure"
(TSP Season 1 Episode 7)


The kids are in the third grade classroom, staring at the clock as Mr. Garrison speaks.

Mr. Garrison: So that's how Napoleon celebrated Christmas in 1962. Are there any questions?

Cartman: Come on, come on could this clock move any slower?

Mr. Garrison: Excuse me, Eric, do you have something you need to tell the class?

Cartman: Goddamn it, isn't this day over already?

Stan: Yeah. It's been three minutes to three for, like, an hour.

Mr. Garrison: Now, children, I know you're all excited for Christmas Break, but-

Wendy: Mr. Garrison? Shouldn't we call it "winter break" to be more sensitive to the non-Christian students in class?

Cartman: Oh, come on.

Mr. Garrison: What? Oh, you mean Kyle? Fine. Kyle, are you going to bitch at us for saying "Christmas break?"

Kyle: Uh, no?

Mr. Garrison: Good. So Wendy, it'd be nice if you could just keep your mouth shut and go with the flow, sweetheart.

Stan: One more minute...

The bell rings at South Park Elementary, and students flood out of the school. Stan, Kyle, Cartman, Kenny, and Charlie run down the street. Festive lights decorate the trees, and snow is falling down. Music starts up and the group starts to sing.

[To the tune of "Jingle Bells," starting with "Dashing through the snow"]

Stan: I just got out of school for the next two weeks!

Cartman: No more Pip or Craig! No more Clyde or Tweek!

Kyle: The snow is falling down. It's covering the ground.

Cartman: Well, what a fucking miracle to see that in this town.

All: Oh, Christmas break! Christmas break!

Cartman: It's so freaking cool!

Kenny: (I just want an easy broad to stick my boner into!)

All: Christmas break! Christmas break! Best time of the year!

Cartman: And if you call it "winter break" you're probably a queer!

Stan: Third grade really sucks. We read and write and learn.

Charlie: We have to stand in line and always wait our turn.

Kyle: But every single year, we get a little break.

Kenny: (Ma'am, I like your boobies; I don't care if they are fake!)

All: Oh, Christmas break! Christmas break!

Cartman: Hanukkah is lame! / Driedels are for pussy Jews and every night's the saa-ame!

All: Christmas break! Christmas break!

Kyle: Cartman's fucking fat! / His mom's a stupid crack whore slut and I could kick his ass!

Now they speak, with music still playing in the background.

Cartman: No you couldn't, Kyle.

Kyle: Sure I could. You're so goddamn fat that the only way you could possibly hurt me is by sitting on me.

The music becomes discordant and fades away.

Cartman: I'm not fat! I'm big boned! And Hanukkah sucks ass!

Kyle: Hanukkah does not suck, and the only thing bigger than your ass is your ego, you prick!

Stan (to Kenny and Charlie): How come every time we try to sing a pleasant song these two have to go and ruin it?

Charlie: I don't know.

Cartman to Kyle: I wouldn't expect any better from a dirty Jew! Go play with a dreidel, hook-nose.

Kyle: I'm going to fucking maim you, Cartman!

Stan (to Kyle and Cartman): Hey guys! Shut up!

Kyle: But Fat-Ass is-

Stan: We don't care! Shut up!

Charlie: It's Christmas season, you guys! Don't you feel, you know, "merry" and stuff?

Cartman: Kyle doesn't feel merry. He's Jewish.

Charlie: Oh, come on, Cartman. Jews have just as much Christmas spirit as anybody else.

The boys look at each other.

Stan: No they don't.

Charlie: They don't?

Stan: Jews don't celebrate Christmas, turd-brain.

Charlie looks baffled. She doesn't say anything for several seconds as she ponders this concept.

Charlie to Kyle: Wait. So you don't celebrate Christmas?

Kyle: No. I have Hanukkah instead.

Charlie: Well, yeah, I knew that, but I thought you also had Christmas.

Cartman: [Putting a hand to his forehead] Oh my God. You are such a stupid bitch.

Stan: Only Christians celebrate Christmas.

Charlie: Really?

Stan: Yes.

Charlie stares at Kyle. She still seems somewhat baffled.

Charlie: Dude... That sucks! Christmas is awesome!

Kyle: I know. Thanks for reminding me.

Charlie walks a few steps away from the group, still mind-boggled. She stares ahead, wrestling with this concept.

Charlie: That's so sad. There are actually people out there who don't get to have Christmas. [She turns to Kyle.] And it's just because you're Jewish?

Kyle: Well, yeah. Jews don't believe in Christmas.

Charlie: That's... That's just so sad.

Cartman: Yep. Well, I'd like to stand around and pity Kyle for being Jewish, but I've got a date with Santa Claus at the mall, and damn it if the line is more than ten kids long when I get there.

Stan: Yeah, come on, Charlie. We have to go home so my dad can take us too. Bye, guys.

Stan and Charlie walk away towards the Marsh house.

Charlie: ...Kyle at least gets Santa, right?

Stan: No. What about this do you not understand? Jewish people don't have Christmas. They don't do any Christmas things. They don't have Christmas trees, or Christmas lights, or Christmas Eve, or stockings, or Christmas specials on TV, or Santa, or luminaries, or nativities, or mass.

Charlie: I never really knew a Jewish person before. I always sort of thought everybody had Christmas.

They reach the Marsh house. Stan opens the door. He and Charlie stand at the doorway and are surprised to see Sharon standing in front of them with a video camera. She films them as they stare at her with blank expressions.

Sharon: Happy Christmas break, kids!

Stan: What are you doing?

Sharon: Guess who's under the mistletoe?

She pans up to show a mistletoe above Stan and Charlie in the doorway. The two kids look up. They appear disgusted.

Charlie: Ew!

Stan: What the hell, Mom?

Sharon: Stanley, give Charlie a kiss!

Stan: No.

Sharon: Oh, come on! It'll be cute! Just one little kiss.

Stan: No.

Charlie: That's gross. Mistletoes suck.

Stan: Yeah. I shouldn't have to kiss someone just because I stand under a stupid plant.

Sharon: Just one little kiss on the cheek for Mommy.

They glare at her and walk on without kissing. When they get a good distance away, they turn to each other, clearly peeved.

Stan: I swear to God, I am fed up with all this mistletoe crap.

Charlie: Me too. It doesn't make any sense. I'm not going to do it anymore.

Stan: Me neither. Every year, it's the same thing. That stupid mistletoe goes up on the door and my mom makes me kiss everyone who goes under it. Well, not anymore! [He raises a defiant arm in the air.] I declare mistletoe immunity!

[Music starts up. This is an original tune with a marching beat.]

Stan (singing): Every single Christmas, or at least since I was four / My parents hung a mistletoe on the inside of our door.

Charlie (singing): Now I'm not one for judging, but that sounds a little gay.

Stan (singing): But this year will be different because now I'm going to say / I declare mistletoe immunity! / And I'm sorry if it sounds a little crass / But I'm tired of all this shit / So it's time to call it quits / 'Cause I'm sick of kissing mistletoe's ass!

Charlie (singing): I declare mistletoe immunity! / I'm not taking any orders from a plant! / Mistletoes really suck / I don't really give a fuck / If you really want to kiss me, kiss my ass!

Stan: Yeah!

Music stops. Stan walks into the entryway and glares up at the mistletoe. He flips it off.

Stan: Fuck you, Mistletoe!

Sharon (walking into the room and looking shocked): Stanley! Language!

Stan (glaring at the floor): Yeah, whatever. Come on, Charlie. Let's go see Santa.

Stan storms out the front door. Charlie follows him a bit nervously. When they've left and closed the door, Sharon smiles and rearranges the mistletoe.

Cartman, Kenny, Stan, and Charlie are lined up to talk to Santa Claus at his booth downtown.

Stan: What are you guys gonna ask for?

Cartman: I want an Action Ray Gun, and a MegaMan, and a new X-Box, and a drum set-

Kenny: (I want a Red Ryder rifle.)

Cartman: No way, Kenny, my mom says you could shoot your eye out with something like that. Besides, you're poor. Santa doesn't like poor kids.

Kenny: (Shut your fucking asshole, cock-munch!)

Stan: Hey, it's your turn, Cartman.

Cartman: Hooray!

Cartman leaps onto Santa's lap. Santa lets out a moan of pain, then regains his composure.

Santa: Ho ho ho! And what would you like for Christmas, little boy?

Cartman: I want an Action Ray Gun, and a MegaMan, and a new X-Box...

Meanwhile, Charlie glances over and sees Kyle with Ike (the latter bundled in a hat and scarf) holding hands as they head to the pond to ice skate. Although the boys look perfectly content, Charlie frowns and looks down sadly. Stan glances back at her and notices her expression.

Stan: What's wrong?

Charlie: I dunno…I just think it's real sad that Kyle and Ike don't get Christmas like the rest of us, just 'cause they're Jewish.

Stan: They do get a little bit of Christmas…

Charlie: Really? How?

Stan: Well, Kyle's pretty good friends with Mr. Hankey the Christmas Poo.

Charlie: Mr. Hankey the what?

Stan: The Christmas Poo. He comes and visits Kyle out of his toilet every Christmas.

Charlie stares at Stan with a confused and mildly disgusted expression for several seconds without speaking.

Charlie: ….What the fuck?

Cartman: …and a life-sized cutout of Mel Gibson. You got all that?

Santa: Ho ho, uh, sure, little boy. Have a Merry Christmas, ho ho ho!

Cartman hops off of Santa's lap. Kenny takes his place.

Kenny: (I want a Blue Ryder Carbine-Action Four-Hundred-Shot Range Model Air Rifle!)

Santa: I don't think so, little boy, ho ho ho! You'll shoot your eye out, kid!

Kenny: (Goddamn it.)

Kenny hops off of Santa's lap. Santa waves goodbye to him.

Santa: Merry Christmas, little boy! Ho ho ho!

Stan hops up onto Santa's lap next.

Santa: Hello, little boy! And what would you like for Christmas?

Stan: I dunno. A football or something. But Santa?

Santa: Yes, little boy?

Stan: How come people are supposed to kiss each other just because they stand underneath a stupid little plant?

Santa: You mean mistletoe?

Stan: Yeah.

Santa: Well, little boy, it's a Christmas tradition! It's a way to spread warmth and love and Christmas cheer during this magical time—

Stan hops off Santa's lap, looking annoyed.

Stan (walking away): That's gay.

Santa: Merry Christmas, little boy! Ho ho ho!

Charlie nervously approaches Santa Claus next. Santa pats his lap, and she hops up.

Santa: And what's your name, little boy?

Charlie: Charlie.

Santa: That's wonderful! And what do you want for Christmas this year, Charlie?

Charlie: I want everybody to get to celebrate Christmas. Even Jewish people like my friend Kyle.

Santa (looking a tad concerned): Well, little boy, that's…very nice of you… But…

Charlie (exasperated): But what?

Santa: Well, Jewish people just don't celebrate Christmas. They have other holidays, and they celebrate their own traditions in their own way!

Charlie: Yeah, but those all suck compared to Christmas.

Santa: …What else do you want for Christmas, little boy?

Charlie: Never mind… [She hops off his lap.] Thanks anyway, Santa.

She walks away glumly. Santa sighs and wipes his brow.

Santa: Jesus, kids are hard to please.