"Okay," L-Ron said to T-Ron, "Let's do this."
T-Ron pressed a button on a remote control, which caused spikes to emerge from the road underneath the truck. It When the truck ran over the spikes, the wheels were shredded, forcing the truck to a stop. The spikes quickly retracted so that they were out of sight.
T-Ron and L-Ron put on hats with a towing company logo and drove out from a hiding place among some tress along the side of the road, then headed toward the scene of the breakdown.
"You guys need some help?" T-Ron said as he pulled up in the two truck to the scene.
"How'd you get here so fast?" B.A. asked suspiciously.
"This road's pretty rough," T-Ron said. "A lot of people wind up in the ditch. You need a tow?"
"Yeah," B.A. answered, but if I find out you guys messed up my tires, I'm-a put you in a six foot ditch myself."

"We are ready to proceed to Phase Two,
Dr. Von Schlitz said to Tony Nevada as he pointed to a glass chamber which was filling with smoke. "Using a sample of Santa Clause's DNA, we have created a perfect clone who will do our bidding. Behold, Evil Santa!"
Evil Santa stepped forward from the chamber, an exact likeness of the original. He laughed manically, shouting, "MuHOHOHOHO!"

The tow truck stopped at a path which led into the woods.
"There's a cabin down at the end of that path," L-Ron told his stranded passengers. "If you want to wait there, we'll bring the truck back when it's done."
"I've got a bad feeling about this," Face whispered to Hannibal.
"Play along," Hannibal whispered back. "Just until we find out who's running this ring."

Hours had passed since the four had wandered to the end of the path to find, of all things, a magnificient life-size gingerbread house, They still wanered about in awe as they snacked on bits and pieces of it.
"I've still got a bad feeling about this," Face said.
"I does seem a bit too good to be true," Hannibal replied.
"I'm tired of your negativity," T said as he entered the room carrying a gingerbread man and glass of milk. "Here we are in, in this delicious gingerbread house, drinking grade A whole milk, in front of a warm fireplace, and all you suckas can do is criticize? You better lighten up, adn try a gingerbread man," he said, biting the head off a gingerbread man and washing it down with some milk, "or I'm-a give you somethin' to complain about!"
As the followed B.A. into the next room, the camera zoomed in on a nutcracker, which turned it's head toward B.A.

"We've got a problem, Boss," said one of the elves to Santa, directing his attention to a GPS map from which the semi truck's location had disappeared. "We've lost track of Sled Reckoning."
"Oh dear," Santa said worriedly. "Get me the last known location. I'll go there myself and check it out." "You can't go out in this weather!" the elf pleaded. "You'll freeze before you reach them!"
"Then I'll see you in HELL!"

B.A. rolled over in bed as he talked in his sleep, mumbling, "... eat your gold ... drink your school ... be good to your greens ..."
Back in the living room, the tiny wooden nutcracker's eyes flickered red as it came to life. It jumped down from a shelf, then stiltedly marched to a display cabinet which showacased more decorative nutcrackers. Nutcracker #1 pulled the handle on the cabinet, unlocking it from the outside. The other nutcrackers in the cabinet activated in turn and jumped to the floor to join #1.
"... I pity my van," B.A. continued to mumbled. "... shut up, school ... Ow!" he cried, waking to a sharp pain. He looked at the end of the bed to see that his feet were being chomped upon by an army of mechanical soldiers. "Ah!" B.A. cried, jumping up from the bed, trying to shake the wooden soldiers from his legs. "Get off me, suckas!" he exclaimed.
Murdoch heard the cries and burst open the door to see B.A. under attack.
"What's going on?" Murdoch asked incredulously.
"What kind of stupid question is that, fool? I got wooden soldiers chewin' on my feet!"
"They must be foot soldiers," Murdoch mused.
"_Murdoch!_" B.A. replied angrily.
"Hold on, big guy," Murdoch said, "I'll have 'em off in a jiff!" Murdoch took a slingshot out of his back pocket and began slinging rocks at the soldiers, taking them out one by one. ****
"There he is," L-Ron said, pointing to the distant dot in the sky which was the running lights under Santa's sleigh.
"I got a present for this mothafucka," T-Ron sneered as he carefully aimed a missile launcher at the sky and fired. The missile had been aimed at the sleigh itself, but it missed it's mark and instead destroyed the apparatus which connected the sleigh to the reindeer. The reindeer continued obliviously on their way while Santa plummeted to the earth, shouting, "Ho, ho, hooo shiiit ..."

Murdock quickly realized that slinging rocks at the toy soldiers wasn't working, as they would only be momentarily stunned, but would then continue their attack.
"Wait here!" Murdock said. He disappeared from the room, then returned a few moments later carrying a flame thrower.
"_What you doin', sucka?_" B.A. cried as Murdoch fired the weapon.
B.A. ducked from the stream of fire, causing it to land on the bed instead, setting the mattress afire. The smoke from the mattress, however, set off the smoke alarm, causing a sprinkler system to douse the flames. The toy soldiers reacted poorly to the water, sparks erupting from their mechanical innards until they ceased to function, frozen in place.
Face and Hannibal entered the room, looking about in surprise.
"Oh no," Face said looking at the damage. "I hope the tow company doesn't charge us a fortune for this."
"I could eat the roof," Murdock offered. "Less overhead."
"Ain't no tow company, fool!" B.A. said. "They was tryin' to kill us with these toys!"
"We've got company," Murdock said as he looked out the window to see a truck's headlights coming down the road.
"I don't think we're going to make it out of this gingerbread house," Face lamented.
Hannibal lit a cigar and put his hand on Face's shoulder. "Not with that kind of attitude, Lieutenant," he said, grinning.
B.A. shook his head. "He's on the jazz ..."

Two homeless men stood on the sidewalk of the ghetto neighborhood, looking through the barred display window of the electronics store at a television which was showing a Christmas movie. The scene featured a dog dressed as Santa Clause, doing a figure-eight on a frozen pond to an instrumental version of "Sleigh Ride".
Homeless man #1 turned to the other and said, "That dog is _gewd!_ He's _gewd!_"
They were stunned, however, to see an object from the sky rapidly approaching.
"What the _hay_-ell?" exclaimed Homeless Man #2 as the falling object approached.
The two quickly cleared the way as Santa's sled crashed to the ground and slid down the sidwalk, Santa screaming in terror the entire time. The sled finally came to a halt when it crashed into shopping cart carrying all of Homeless Man #3's worldly possessions, strewing them about the street.
"Heyyy, chump!" Homeless Man #3 said to Santa angrily.
"My bad," Santa said.
Santa hurried ran toward a street light which had pay phones attached on either side.
He picked up the receiver, only to find that the top and bottom had been unscrewed so that the speaker and microphone could be removed, leaving only dangling wires. Santa groaned, then walked to the pay phone on the other side. He picked up the receiver, then reached into his pocket for change, but to his dismay, found only cookies and candy canes.
"Rat farts!" Santa exclaimed angrily.
More misfortune awaited Santa when he returned to his sleigh to find two thieves removing the stereo, airbags and anything else they could carry. "Honkey lips" had been spray-painted on the side of the sleigh.
When they saw Santa, they immediately snatched up the contraband and ran.
"You hooligans!" Santa cried, shaking his fist. "You're _definitely_ on the naughty list!"
Santa had a quiet moment of reflection on the cold, dark street, near a busted sleigh in a busted city.
The silence was broken when Santa heard footsteps approaching down an alley.
At first the form was shrouded in darkness, but Santa recognized the glowing red eyes. "Evil Santa!" Santa gasped.
"Santa, my old friend," Evil Santa said, "you still remember!"
"Still ... old ... friend," Santa said. "You've managed to destroy my sleigh, but like a poor marksman, you keep _miss_ing the _tar_get!"
"No matter," Evil Santa said. "I prefer to see you face to face, so you'll know who it is who has beaten you!"
"But how is this possible? After you tried to lead the elves in rebellion against me, I sent you to the Santom Zone!"
"I remained there, trapped for eons," Evil Santa said grimly, "until I was at last freed, by the power of Maths!"
A black helicopter, flown by T-Ron and L-Ron, hovered over Evil Santa and dropped down a rope ladder. "And now," Evil Santa continued, "I'm going to leave you, like you left me ... stranded, in the middle of a dead city ... buried alive ... buried alive ..."
As Evil Santa was lifted away, Santa shook his fist at the sky and called Evil Santa by his elf name: "Toodles!"

T-Ron turned off the headlights and quietly brought Sled Reckoning to a stop a short distance from the gingerbread house, then turned to L-Ron and said, "The toy soldiers should have taken them out, but we better sneak up to the house and have a a look. I'll go in the front, you go in the back."
L-Ron nodded.
The two stepped out of the truck and slowly approached the house.
They split up, T-Ron creeping toward the front door, while L-Ron snuck around to the back of the house.
L-Ron pushed open the door and look inside at the dark living room.
He didn't see anyone in the room, but at the top of the stairs, he thought he saw a body lying at the top of the stairs.
As he started to walk up the stairs, he inadvertently tripped a string slung between the bannisters, triggering a booby trap which released a bucket of paint on the edge of a rope. The bucket swung down and hit T-Ron in the face, knocking him backward down the stairs. He slammed unconscious to the floor at the foot of the stairs. L-Ron opened the back door, and fell for a similar ruse when he looked through the door to the basement to see a dark shape at the bottom of the stairs.
As L-Ron made his way down the steps, his fought caught a string, triggering a booby trap which released marbles on the stairs.
L-Ron slipped on the marbles and stumbled down the stairs.
At the bottom, his face hit against a coal furnace, burning his cheeks.
He screamed in pain as he climbed to his feet and ran to a utility sink with a broken mirror on the wall above it. L-Ron poured some water from a bottle onto his hands and put them to his cheeks to soothe the burning.
It wasn't until his hands touched his face, however, that he realized it was not water on his hands, but lighter fluid. L-Ron looked at his reflection the mirror and screamed loudly.
In a not-so-special effect, L-Ron's head became a fake model of a head which first erupted into flames, then, in a cheesy stop-motion effect, melted away until there was only a skeleton. B.A. and Murdock walked out to the front lawn to see Hannibal and Face carrying the unconscious T-Ron toward Sled Reckoning.
"Where's the other one?" Hannibal asked B.A and Murdock.
"You don't want to know, Colonel," Murdock said. "Let's just say he won't be down for breakfast." As Murdock and B.A. lifted T-Ron's body toward the truck, Hannibal lifted one of T-Ron's eye lids to allow a laser beam to scanned his retina.
His ID recognized, the door opened to allow them into the truck.

In a run-down warehouse in the ghetto, one of the thieves set about hawking Santa's disembodied GPS unit, crudely-cut wires dangling from it.
"Come on," said the thief to a prospective customer. "Do you know how much these things cost new? It's a steal!"
"How do I know if it works?" said the customer.
Sled Reckoning crashed through the closed entrance to the warehouse, crushing the bulky metal garage door under its wheels. The armored truck squealed to a stop in front of the thief, who stood dumbly holding the GPS device, like a deer in the headlights.
B.A.'s voice blared from a loudspeaker. "Drop it, sucka!"

As the driver's-side window rolled down on the car which had stopped at the red light, Santa approached and pleaded "Hey man, lemme get twenty-five cent for a sandwich!" The contents of a styrofoam cup full of flat, watered-down soda were splashed into Santa's face as the driver stepped on the gas, his friends laughing hysterically. This latest humiliation made Santa all the more relieved to see Sled Reckoning approach behind him.
The door opened to reveal Hannibal standing in the doorway. "Need a ride, stranger?"
"I'm glad to see you," Santa said, "but I'm afraid we're too late. Evil Santa is already on his way to Claus Gulch."
"Don't worry, pops," B.A. said, who'd just walked from the driver's seat to the passenger area. "I drive fast!"
"That may be," Santa said, "but only my sleigh is fast enough for that sort of trip. And in its present condition, it's not going anywhere."
"No sweat," B.A. said. "I can fix anything. I just need some tools."
"Murdoch," Hannibal said, "get on the interwebs and find us the closest garage."

Within a few minutes, the Team found itself knocking on the door of the closest garage, an auto customization shop called "Midwest Chop-'Ems".
The door opened as far is it would while remaining chained from the inside, and they were greeted by owner and founder Darnell Junkins, a bulky black man dressed in a wife-beater.
"Yeah?" he grunted.
"We need your tools." B.A. said.
"You got money?" asked Darnell.
Hannibal snapped his finger at Face, who reached to the inside pocket of his sportcoat.
"Somebody get a camera," Murdoch joked. "Face has his hand in his pocket!"
"I'm-a put my fist in your face if you don't shut up, fool!" B,A, sneered.
Darnell took the money, counted it, then unlocked the door.

Santa addressed B.A. and Darnell as they pored over the wrecked sleigh which had been dragged into the garage.
"If we're to reach Claus Gulch in time," Santa said, "you'll have to fix the Hugs Capacitor." He pointed to a Y-shaped contraption at the back of the sleigh, inside which candy-striped waves of light pulsated toward the center. "But I don't know you're going to generate the 1.21 giggle-watts needed to power it!"
"Don't worry," Darnell said. "I'm-a give it 1.21 nigga-watts!" B.A. nodded. "Let's do it."
"Bad to the Bone" played over a montage as:
-Murdoch and Face removed the sled's scratched, bent rudders, which B.A. and Darnell quickly replaced with shiny chrome ones. -B.A. and Darnell lowered a shiny new engine into the front portion of the sleigh.
-Face ripped out the upholstry and replaced it with red shag.
-B.A. installed stereo on the dashboard.
-Darnell installed a mini fridge.
-Murdoch installed an aquarium.
-Hannibal installed dingle balls.
-Murdoch waxed over the flame decals on the exterior.
-B.A. installed a chain steering wheel.
As the music died, Santa, Hannibal, B.A., Face and Murdoch sat in the sleigh while Darnell took one last look at his hand-work before lift-off. "We couldn't have done it without you," Santa said as he poured a shot of ripple for himself and Darnell, then put the bottle back in the mini-fridge. "Here's to ya." Their glasses clinked as they cheered then downed the shots. Santa threw the shot glass against the wall, shattering it. "Let's roll!"

Back at Clause Gulch, the First Elficer woke aprubtly from his sleep to hear a loud rumbling sound. "What in the hell is that?" he squeake as the rumbling grew louder.
"I thought I told you guys to keep it down!" he shouted, pounding angrily on the wall through which he thought he was hearing a loud stereo.
When the rumbling grew yet louder, the First Elficer opened the door to a common area of the elf village, where a large ball of white light materialized into the form of Santa and the Team. The elves closest to the sleigh writhed in pain, their pointed ears bleeding.

Through his magic 8-ball, Evil Santa could see Good Santa's sleigh being rebuilt. "I'll show him who's bad to the bone!" Evil Santa said, as he spread his arms out over the artic landscape which he overlooked from his icy summit. "Army of Misfit Toys, awake!"
The Northern Lights became bolts of lightening which ripped deep chasms into the ice, out of which crawled the Misfit Toys. Some where toys which had been popular in their time but had now become forgotten, such Hulk Hands which had become a Hulk Hand, a Tickle-Me-Elmo whose furry exterior had partly deteriorated to reveal circuitry underneath, and a Pet Rock which was ... well ... a rock.
Other toys were failed knock-offs of more popular toys, such as Stinker Toys, Carter Logs and Jihad Joe.
Scare Force One soared over their heads, leading the charge. The army followed wildly in pursuit. ****
In the audiorium which was normally used for motivational speakers, Santa held a pointing stick over a 3-D model of Evil Santa's position in relation to the complex.
"We have only a matter of hours before Evil Santa and his army arrive," Santa said grimly, "but if we stick together and work fast, we can emerge victorious!" He collapsed the pointer. "Any questions?"
"Yeah," said one of the elves. "Are you outta your freakin' mind? We're all gonna die! Every elf for himself!"
The elves erupted into chaos.
B.A. quickly took to the stage to try and control the crowd.
"Everybody sit down and shut up!" he grunted angrily, to which the elves instantly complied. "I know how it eeis," B.A. began calmly, "when I was a keeid, I couldn't afford to pay attention." His face turned stern. "But I never ... let nobody ... push me a-ROUND! Now are we gonna git down with our OWN bad elves?"
The elves cheered excitedly as they jumped into action.

A group of young elves stood at ready atop the wall around the village and weapons made of wood and painted in an array of colors, as they had been fashioned from toys. They were filled with fear when they saw the Misfit Toys break over the horizon.
They were shocked, however, to hear the laughter of an old elf, creaking back and forth on a rocking chair behind them while he smoked a pipe. "WHAT in the HELL is THAT?" he cackled hysterically upon seeing the strange-looking army.
"It's not funny, Grandpa!" said one of the young elves.
"During the first Gulch War," Grandpa mused, "I killed fitty toys with my bare hands, not including whistles and yo-yos!"

A group of Marine elves bravely advanced to meet the oncoming toys. A muscular gung-ho elf, using a large candy-cane with a sharpened tip as a makeshift spear, impaled a Tickle-Me-Elmo. Bolts of electricity burst forth from its nine-volt battery.
Another elf soldier, manning a gutted kaleidoscope which had been fashioned into a makeshift rocket launcher, fired a sugarplum at the misfit toys. Hulk Hand caught the sugerplum, then grunted at it dumbly for a moment before the sugarplum exploded, releasing plastic kaleidoscope innards as shrapnel. Gung-ho Elf used his candy can spear again to strike at Stretch Armstrong, pinning Stretch to the ground.
A smaller, fast-footed elf grabbed one of Stretch's legs, dived under a passing Radio Flyer wagon, threw the leg into the axle of the wagon, then dived back out of the way.
As the wagon, carrying misfit toys, advanced forward, it began to slow down as the rubber leg stretched. When the leg reached maximum strength, the wagon suddenly snapped backward like a rubber band, landing top down as if it had slipped on a banana peel. High above in Scare Force One, Evil Santa's pilot, the First Evilcer, overlooked the scene and gave a dismal report. "We're losing ground fast!"
"Not for long," Evil Santa replied, pulling a present out of his sack. "They just made my naughty list!"
"Flight of the Valkyre" played as Evil Santa began dropping evil gifts which exploded when they hit the ground.
One of the gifts landed on a cluster of bushes. Stunt elves jumped away from the bushes in slow motion as the gift box exploded, setting the bushes afire.
"Trouble, boss!" the First Elvicer said to Good Santa as he watched the scene on a steampunk-looking monitor. "Don't worry," Santa said, "there's a deep ravine surround the whole complex. Those toys can't get across."

As the army of toys approached the ravine, a group of lego men rushed to the front in fast-forward. Short-sleeved architect legos with tie decals consulted with construction worker legos in hard hats squabbled in sped-up gibberish until they agreed on the plans, upon which the rest of the Lego team hastily built a bridge across the ravine in a matter of seconds, allowing the misfit toys to cross. ****
"No dice, boss," said the First Elficer as he watched the toys march across the Lego bridge.
"Then I have no choice," Good Santa said. "I've got to fight Evil Santa myself and force him to surrender."
"But we need you here!" the First Elficer pleaded. "If you leave us now, we're cooked!"
"Not to worry, friend," Hannibal said, putting his hand on the First Elficer's shoulder. "I've got a plan!"
"You ain't got no playan!" B.A. shot back at Hannibal. "You just gonna sit around smokin' cigars while you work us to death on some half-baked scheme that's gonna blow up in our face!"
"It only looks that way," Hannibal said. "If I told the real plan, you'd never do it."
B.A. grunted as he looked up and down at Hannibal. "You crazier than Murdock!"

After walking down a long hallway of non-descript, unmarked doors, The Second Elficer opened a door to one of the Elven black rooms which contained, under a domed roof, the machine which projected the holographic illusion which had concealed the location of Clause Gulch.
"This is it," the Second Elficer said. "Unfortunately now that Evil Santa has discovered our location, it's useless to us."
Hannibal grinned mischievously and rubbed his chin. "Maybe not ..."

"Activating stealth mode," good Santa said to the First Elficer through the earpiece shortly after takeoff, Santa Santa punched in a series of commands which caused a dark oval dome to emerge from behind him, silently moving over his head until the sleigh was enclosed. INstrument panels lit up inside the sleigh with a neon-like phosporescent glow.
Back at Clause Gulc, the First Elficer watched as the sleigh disappeared from the radar.
When Santa had maneuvered the sleigh until it was gliding underneath Scare Force One, Santa punched in yet another command which caused hole open in the dark dome, through a whicha hollow metal cylinder, sealed at both ends, emerged and slowly moved upward until it made contact with Scare Force One's metal hull. Santa heard an echoing hiss sound as the tube was depressurized and the seals opened at both ends.
Santa had to suck in the gut a bit to fit through the tube which, narrow as it was, was wider than some chimneys through which Santa had successfully climbed.
When there was no chimney, Santa faced the same problem which he faced at the top of the tube, being of course how to break through the titanium alloy surface of the plane. Passage was easily gained using a tool of Santa's own design. Although it looked like an ordinary corn cob pipe, the mere press of a concealed button activated a laser beam which could cut through any material. "What's your status, boss?" the First Officer's voice cracked through the radio.
"I'm in the cargo bay," Santa said as he opened one of the many crates, only to gasp in shock at it's contents. "Oh my God ..."
"What is it?" First Elficer asked worriedly.
"Something too horrible to mention," Santa said grimly, as he looked in the create to see hundreds of boxed, shrinkwrapped dolls which had been fashioned to resemble actress and pop star Anna Nevada, daughter of mob boss Tony Nevada, who had left a long line of broken-kneed, cement-shoed corpses in his efforts to advance his daughter's career.

Peering through the window in the cockpit of the plane, the First Evilcer gave his report. "Sir, the army is almost to the fortress wall ... Sir?"
He turned to see Evil Santa playing "Angry Birds" on his phone. "Sir, maybe this isn't a good time to-"
"I gotta use the can," Evil Santa replied apruptly. "BRB ..."
Evil Santa walked to the bathroom at the back of the plane and locked the door behind him so he could continue to play his game undisturbed. Something in the caught his attention however. In the mirror he saw a shadow move behind him. When he turned around, however, there was nothing there.
Turning back to the mirror, he saw the shadows again.
"OMG!" Evil Santa quickly tweeted. "My planez is totally haunted, ROFL LOLZ". He cut his message short when he heard a sound from the other side of the mirror. When he moved his face to the mirror to examine it closely, he realized that it was not a mirror, but merely one way glass. The glass suddenly shattered violently as Good Santa broke through from behind it and lunged at Evil Santa's throat.
"Please fasten your seatbelts," First Evilcer's voice broke over the speakers. "We arrre experiencing some mild turbulence." The turbulence caused the plane to tilt downward, upon which the two fat men easily toppled the door and slid down the aisole until Evil Santa's head bumped against the door of the cockpit. Evil Santa tried to alert the First Evilcer to danger, but could not speak as Good Santa still clasped at his throat.
Suddenly, however, the plane tilted upward, so that Good Santa found himself sliding on the ground toward the back of the plane until he bumped his head on the wall of the bathroom. Evil Santa siezed the opportunity to choke Good Santa, giving him a taste of his own medicine. Fortunes reversed yet again when the plane tipped downward again, sending the two sliding down the aisle toward the front of the plane. This time, however, the plane tilted upward again midway down the aisle. The plane then began to repeatedly tip upward and downward violently, giving the two the opportunity to climb to their feet so they could throw punches at each other mercilessly.

"They're almost to the wall," Face said as he looked down to see the approaching army at the threshhold of the fortress.
"Good," Hannibal replied. "I think we've had enough playtime." He picked up his walkie talkie. "Go, B.A.!"
B.A. aimed a snow machine while Murdock reached for the on switch, singing his favorite Harry Connic Jr, song: "Oh, the weather outside is frightful ,,," He pulled the switch, unleasing the torrent. "... BWOOOMP!" The army suddenly found itself in a virtual blizzard through which there was no visibility. Chaos erupted for a moment as everyone lost their direction, but when the snow fizzled away, Hulk Hand caught sight of the fortress wall again, then pointed the way and motioned for the others to follow.
At the base of the wall, the Lego men quickly assembled ladders and placed them against the wall. To their shock, however, not only did the ladders passed through the wall as if it were thin air, the Lego men lifting them seem to fall into the ground and disappear. Their high-pitched, squeaky cries echoed, as if falling to their doom down a bottomless pit.
"Shut if off," Hannibal ordered to the Second Elficer, who disengaged the hologram machine, revealing that the army of Misfit Toys stood not at the base of the fortress wall as they thought, but in fact they stood before the very ravine over which they'd crossed earlier. Hannibal had used the blizzard to make them lose their direction, then used the hologram machine to send them in the wrong direction. Hannibal had effectively lured them onto an icy peninsula and cut off their means of escape.
"Merry Christmas, fools!" B.A. jeered.
Murdock added, "And a happy Hannukah, from Harry Connica!", to which B.A. sneered annoyingly. ***
"The army has surrendered!" said the First Evilcer as he opened the door to the cockpit only to see, to his shock, the two Santa's still violently fighting.
"What?" Evil Santa replied angrily to the news.
"Ha!" good Santa cried tauntingly, pointing at his foe. "Up yours, fat boy!"
"You may have won," Evil Santa said, pulling a concealed knife from his belt, "but you won't live to enjoy it!"
He brought the knife down upon Good Santa. Santa grabbed his wrist, barely holding the knife back from his face as they struggled.
When turbulence tipped the plane downward again, Good Santa siezed on what might have been his one opportunity to escape by grabbing the overhead compartments to hold himself in place while he drop-kicked his opponent with all his might. Evil Santa stumbled backward to the cockpit, taking the pilot with him as he barreled through the door. Santa let go of the overhead rack, allowing him to slide forward until he reached the closed door to the cockpit.
Good Santa grabbed a mop and jammed it into the deadbolt slot so that the door could not be opened from the inside. For the next few moments, Evil Santa and the First Evilcer tried in vain to open the door.
They realized they had bigger problems, when the voice of Eerie (Electronic Robot Interface) informed them in its Speak-and-Spell voice that Scare Force One's self-destruct had been initiated. "What did you do?" Evil Santa cried angrily.
"I didn't touch anything!" the First Evilcer said. "It must have been triggered remotely!"
Evil Santa gasped and searched his pockets before arriving at the terrifying conclusion. "He took my phone!"
The First Evilcer thought for a moment. "But he still needs the secret code!"

As he piloted the sleigh away from the doomed plane, Good Santa watched the clock running down on Evil Santa's phone. Good Santa had in fact guessed the password, "040404", which on a calculator, was "hohoho" turned upside-down.
"Santa, you magnificent bastard!" Good Santa shouted, shaking his fist. "I've got your DNA!"

Watching the explosion of Scare Force One from the ground, Hannibal treated himself to a victory cigar. "I love it when a plan comes together!"

Back at the Youth Center in sunny L.A., Santa prepared to part ways with the Team. "I can't thank you enough," Santa said to B.A. "You've saved Christmas!"
"It was nothin'," B.A. said modestly. "I was just tryin' to help the keeids ... and this army of toy slaves came in real handy, too," he said of the captured Misfit Toys, who'd been put to work doing all the jobs that B.A. and the kids didn't want, such as putting B.A.'s van back together. The lid to a wooden box on a table next to B.A.'s chair opened to reveal Hulk Hand holding a glass of milk for B.A.
"B.A. took a sip of the milk, then scowled and handed it back. "I said whole milk, fool!"
Noticed one of the kids looking sad, B.A. quickly came to his aid. "What's wrong, little brother?"
"I wrote a story about how you saved Christmas, and saved it on this old Radio Garage electronic organizer from the 90s, but somehow the story got deleted."
"Get Radio Garage to fix it!" B.A. replied sternly.
"They won't do it, there's no time left on the warranty."
"B.A. Baracus don't got time either," he replied, "but I make the time!"
B.A. marched out to the door to his van. As soon as he opened the driver's side door, a group of rubber toy trolls with multi-colored hair scurried out. "Get outta here, suckas!" B.A. growled angrily.
When they had fled, B.A. sat back in the driver's seat, started the van, and activated the gravitivity machine. The back doors of the van opened, and two large speakers emerged, smoke pouring out from the floor of the van onto the ground below. The machine activated, and B.A. soon found himself hurtling backward through time. ****
At a Radio Garage corporate board meeting in the early 90's, one of the men at the table was entertaining the others with something he heard on TV.
"Chaz!" he said, pointing. "The Chaz-meister! Chaz-erino!"
The others laughed hysterically. Chaz put up his hand and said, "Come on, Chet! Talk to the hand!"
B.A.'s van suddenly smashed through the glass windows of the ground-level conference room.
"You better talk to the fist, sucka!" B.A. said as he jumped out of the driver's side, grabbed Chet and Chaz ( one in each arm), and lifted them over his head.
"What are you doing?" Chet pleaded nervously.
"I'm sendin' you suckas back to China, with the rest o' yo' junk!"

On the other side of the globe, Chinese onlookers were shocked to see two well-dressed American businessmen fall from the sky and land in a pile of stinky fish.
An old fishermen nearby mumbled something to his friend in his native tongue. A subtitle at the bottom of the screen translated his words: "Damn, that T throws helluva far!"

END