Santa asks about his friends and Iggy says they went to the dog pound to get their dog. “Good grief, Vixen!” Santa says. Good grief? That’s a DIFFERENT Christmas show, Santa, no crossovers please.
Vixen is in prison crying and is a sick as well, a dog. Santa runs outside and gets Dasher and he takes off into the air. Then Iggy puts it together…”Mr. Klauuus…Mr. Claus! He must be…” Well duh, who the hell else has flying reindeer, dumbass? Iggy wishes there was something he could do to help Santa, the two elves and Vixen. His father suggests going to the top dog, the big cheese, the head of the town, the MAYOR. Is it Chicago’s Mayor Daley? Because otherwise they won’t be able to get dick done.
The elves are headed over to the mayor’s office as well since the dog catcher won’t let their reindeer go. Unfortunately, the mayor doesn’t believe Jingle and Jangle are elves or that they need to take their reindeer back to the North Pole. They ask how they can convince the mayor their story is true and he says there’s a snowball’s chance in Southtown he’ll ever believe him. He says if they can make it snow in Southtown and he’ll buy their story and give Santa an official national holiday (Christmas? Oh, maybe that belongs to Jesus?). Jangle says it’s a deal. Because he’s the stupid one.
Stupid white fat cat politician. Everything old is new again.
Santa is at the pound getting Vixen release and the dog catcher is shocked that it’s a real reindeer. Seems like removing the socks on the “dog’s” head would have given you a clue, but whatever. Santa puts Vixen on Dasher’s back and they head back home. She looks like she’s going to be venison jerky soon.
Jingle, Jangle and Iggy are all sitting on a park bench trying to figure out how to get Vixen out of the pound and how to make it snow in Southtown. Out of absolutely no ideas, they decide to call a woman in to fix things. Mrs. Claus!
Dude, I am sooo baked.
Mr. Claus picks everyone up in the middle of the night and they head over to see Snow Miser. Finally! Snow Miser is protected by a bunch of little Snow Misers and he begins to sing his song, “I’m Mr. White Christmas, I’m Mr. Snow…I’m Mr. Icicle, I’m Mr. Ten Below…friends call me Snow Miser…whatever I touch, turns to snow in my clutch…I’m too much!” How does he pee?
Now I personally became acquainted with Snow Miser when I lived in Chicago so although I love his song and dance, Heat Miser is really my favorite favorite. Snow Miser asks Mrs. Claus how Santa is doing and she says he has a bad cold. Snow Miser counters with “I would have given him a GOOD one.” Oh, Snow.
This is why no one has nipples in Chicago.
Iggy steps forward and tells Snow Miser not to make fun of Santa who is now, “The nicest person in the whole world.” Yeah, 10 minutes ago you didn’t believe in him. Just wait until the Scientology truck rolls up in Southtown, all the kids will disappear if they are this easily swayed.