& Gwen: Dear Santa, are you real? If you live at the North Pole, how come I can’t see your house when I look on Google Earth?
& Grandsanta: Shut the door! Hell’s berries, it’s the North Pole!
& Grandsanta: Kid still asleep? He mustn’t see Santa... What if you wake the odd nipper? A whack with a sock of sand, dab of whiskey on the lips, they don’t remember.
& Santa: I won’t sleep easy after this, Arthur, but there it is. Can’t be done.
& Grandsanta: Do you know, Arthur, there is a way.
Arthur: It’s impossible.
Grandsanta: They used to say it was impossible to teach women to read... Follow me.
& Grandsanta: See? Who’s Santa now? Ho, ho, ho!
& Grandsanta: Look, Arthur. All those stars. We’re one of them now. A shooting star!
& Grandsanta: For the love of Lulu, bossed about by Tinpot Tom!
& Grandsanta: Steve, three words.
Steve: Is the first one “help”?
& Doug: Sir? We have lost 80 percent of our data.
Steve: No, no. We have 18 pulse data reservoirs of a trillion terabytes!
Doug: Sorry, autosave was off.
& Elf: Sir, we know you shouldn’t believe rumors, but we do.
& Elf: Is it true you missed a child?
Santa: Me? No, no, no. Well, uh, in a way, yes. It was just one. In fact, not even that. Naught point lots more naughts, then a number and some sort of percent at the end. Not really an error, just a one.
Elf: One child doesn’t matter? Which one?
& Arthur: I just have to keep, uh, going.
Bryony: We need a blunt instrument.
Grandsanta: Knock him out and regroup.
--
+ quotes on the IMDb
& Grandsanta: Shut the door! Hell’s berries, it’s the North Pole!
& Grandsanta: Kid still asleep? He mustn’t see Santa... What if you wake the odd nipper? A whack with a sock of sand, dab of whiskey on the lips, they don’t remember.
& Santa: I won’t sleep easy after this, Arthur, but there it is. Can’t be done.
& Grandsanta: Do you know, Arthur, there is a way.
Arthur: It’s impossible.
Grandsanta: They used to say it was impossible to teach women to read... Follow me.
& Grandsanta: See? Who’s Santa now? Ho, ho, ho!
& Grandsanta: Look, Arthur. All those stars. We’re one of them now. A shooting star!
& Grandsanta: For the love of Lulu, bossed about by Tinpot Tom!
& Grandsanta: Steve, three words.
Steve: Is the first one “help”?
& Doug: Sir? We have lost 80 percent of our data.
Steve: No, no. We have 18 pulse data reservoirs of a trillion terabytes!
Doug: Sorry, autosave was off.
& Elf: Sir, we know you shouldn’t believe rumors, but we do.
& Elf: Is it true you missed a child?
Santa: Me? No, no, no. Well, uh, in a way, yes. It was just one. In fact, not even that. Naught point lots more naughts, then a number and some sort of percent at the end. Not really an error, just a one.
Elf: One child doesn’t matter? Which one?
& Arthur: I just have to keep, uh, going.
Bryony: We need a blunt instrument.
Grandsanta: Knock him out and regroup.
--
+ quotes on the IMDb
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