(We are on the HOLODECK. TUVOK, BE'LANNA TORRES, TOM PARIS, HARRY KIM, THE DOCTOR, CHAKOTAY, THE CAPTAIN, and CHELL are in there. The party is full blown now, and the table is LOADED with food. We're talking whole targs, ducks, turkeys, chickens, the whole lot of it. They are talking, drinking, dancing, making out under the mistletoe, admiring SEVEN OF NINE'S HEAD on the wall, etc. CHELL taps his glass.)
CHELL: And now it's time to open our gifts.

(They proceed over to the tree. They settle down in chairs. Only CHELL remains standing. CHELL starts to pass out gifts, but a flash of light interrupts. Q appears, dressed like Santa Claus. He has a sleigh pulled by eight miniature rein…dragons.)
Q: On Strider, on Samwise, on Bilbo and Frodo! On Sauron, on Gandalf, on Arwen and Mordor! Ho, ho, hey, there's a ho's head over the fireplace! Merry Christmas, Voyager!

THE CAPTAIN: Q?

CHAKOTAY: Strider?
BE'LANNA TORRES: Samwise?
TOM PARIS: Bilbo?
CHELL: Frodo?
THE DOCTOR: Sauron?
TUVOK: Gandalf?

THE CAPTAIN: Arwen and Mordor?
HARRY KIM: (Runs to hug him) Santa! I knew you were real! Be'lanna told me you were fake, but I knew you were real! Santa, where's Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner, and Blitzen? Wait a minute! Those aren't eight tiny reindeer! Those are dragons! Oh my God, they ate the reindeer!
Q: Sorry, but all Paramount's beastmaster had were Shetland Reindragons. And she's a Lord of the Rings nut, too. That's so obvious, Picard and his lackeys would have figured that out.

THE CAPTAIN: Q, we're stranded in the Delta Quadrant and will never be going back. How are we supposed to keep up on the latest Oscar winners?

Q: Sorry, ma cherie, but I forgot.

THE CAPTAIN: Don't call me that. Anyways, why are you here, Q?

HARRY KIM: That's not Q, that's Santa!
THE CAPTAIN: Harry, it's Q.

HARRY KIM: No, it's not.
THE CAPTAIN: Yes, it is.

HARRY KIM: No, it's not!

THE CAPTAIN: Yes, Harry, it is.

HARRY KIM: Why does nobody believe in Santa?
Q: Because he's not real.

HARRY KIM: Santa, you're standing here talking to me and you're telling me you're not real?
Q: It's me, Q. I just wanted to spread a little holiday cheer. THERE IS NO SANTA.

HARRY KIM: I don't believe you! Waaaaaaaah!

Q: Here, here's a candy cane.

HARRY KIM: Oooooh! (He immediately unwraps it and sucks on it for a while. He is mollified.)
Q: Holy evil terrier dogs, it didn't kill him. Well, I need to be going. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night! Goodbye, Voyager! (Q, the sleigh, and STRIDER, SAMWISE, BILBO, FRODO, SAURON, GANDALF, ARWEN, and MORDOR disappear in a flash of light.)

CHELL: As I was saying, before I was interrupted, the first gift is for the Doctor. (He goes over to THE DOCTOR and hands him a wrapped gift.) Here you go, Doc. From me to you.

THE DOCTOR: (opens gift, looks inside.) The antidote to post-digestion leola root poisoning! Chell, I ran out of this and haven't been able to replicate it for weeks! How did you know?
CHELL: I'm a Bolian. Trust me, I know. Next up is Harry Kim. Harry, the Doctor got you a present. (He gives HARRY KIM a green bag.)

HARRY KIM: Oh boy!!! (He opens the gift.) Wow! A rubber chicken! (The chicken comes to life and strangles HARRY KIM until death. THE DOCTOR puts him to one side.)
THE DOCTOR: He'll come back. He always does. (HARRY KIM comes back to life)

CHELL: All righty, looks like I'm next. (He picks up a red box.) Oh, Lieutenant Torres, thanks. Man, this is heavy. (He opens it.) Wow! Fifty pounds of fresh ingredients! This will be helpful! Thank you, Lieutenant.

BE'LANNA TORRES: It was nothing.

CHELL: Well, Be'lanna, your gift is right here. Your husband got this for you, so it may not be appropriate- (He is interrupted as she rips into the gift, Klingon-style and impales HARRY KIM with the bow.)

HARRY KIM: Aaaaaaaaah!

TOM PARIS: Use it well.

BE'LANNA TORRES: Tom, what is this? (She holds up an interesting piece of clothing.) This better not be what I think it is.

TOM PARIS: Don't worry, darling, it is.

BE'LANNA TORRES: We'll just have to see if you got your rations' worth. Later. (She kisses him.) Thank you.

TOM PARIS: Thank you.

CHELL: It's your turn now, Tom. (He hands TOM PARIS the fruitcake.)

TOM PARIS: Gee, thanks, Tuvok. I wonder what this is. (He unwraps it.) Oh my God! It's a piece of shit! I mean, Oh my God! It's a piece of poo! See, I did it right, Mr. Mackey. Put down the cattle prod!

TUVOK: You are incorrect. It is a fruitcake, Mr. Paris. Fruitcake is a traditional gift given in the month of December in human cultures.

TOM PARIS: Can I eat it?
TUVOK: No. Scientific studies have proven that fruitcake, while suitable for use as part of a set of weights, has no edible properties.

TOM PARIS: Sounds like leola root pasta. Oh well. I can't screw it, and I can't lose it in uncharted space, and I only know how to do three things. I have to pick one. (He takes a bite.) Hey, I can't eat this! I can't even take a bite. (He plays with the fruitcake, like a small child.)

THE CAPTAIN: Tuvok, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

CHELL: Tuvok, here's Harry's gift to you. (He hands TUVOK a decorated paper sack.)

TUVOK: Oh dear. (He opens it.) Socks. Thank you, Harry.

CHELL: Chakotay, here's your gift. (He hands him a rather large and awkward package, carefully wrapped.)

CHAKOTAY: I honestly don't know what this is. (He unwraps it and opens it. Inside is a box. He continues, finding more and more boxes until he is left with a box the size of a recipe box.) Now I KNOW what this is. Katie, where did you get it?

THE CAPTAIN: Admiral Nascavara helped me. Apparently she collects antiques. Go on, open it!

CHAKOTAY: (Pulls out a set of car keys. Reading the key.) McLaren. Hot damn! This will be GREAT. One thing, Katie.

THE CAPTAIN: And what's that?
CHAKOTAY: You're riding shotgun this time, baby!

THE CAPTAIN: Anything. (She kisses his cheek.)

CHAKOTAY: And now it's your turn. (He pulls out a big box.) Merry Christmas, sweetheart.

THE CAPTAIN: Oooh! (She rips into the box, rather carefully. She puts her head in and starts squealing at something that is unknown to us. She pulls it out.) A puppy!

THE PUPPY: Arf! (Licks THE CAPTAIN's face. CHAKOTAY gets a semi-jealous look on his face, but it soon passes. A camera flash is heard, then the scene falls down like a picture.)

VOTN: Yes indeedy, A Very Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night! Get some sleep! Remember, spay and neuter your pilots, and don't consume Romulan ale and fly! Be kind to your vegetarians, especially those who want to spread Christmas cheer in return for some coffee! Bye-bye now! Have a good time! And if you see a sign on any ship that says "Baby on Board," hunting season's open!

(HEAR END THEME)

VOICE OF THE CAPTAIN: Wait a minute, Chakotay. Where did you find a dog?

(BLACK SCREEN)