When you're an Irish-Catholic family in Chicago,
it's sort of illegal to hate the holidays.
In fact, there wasn't anything in the world,
that Eileen O'Neal loved more than Christmas...
Except winning.
Stop, stop, stop!
Everybody stop.
One of you... is off.
Would the tone-deaf perpetrator care to step forward?
No?
Okay.
I could be wrong.
Hmm.
♪ Hark the herald angels sing ♪
♪ Glory to the newborn king ♪
You.
Here.
Start from the beginning.
♪ Hark the herald ♪
Honey...
you're making God sad.
She thought the music teacher in "Whiplash" was the hero.
You know what, just go back to your spot.
I'll deal with you later.
Again!
And remember, everybody...
It's Christmas!
- Synced and corrected by VitoSilans - -- www.Addic7ed.com --
Don't worry about these first-day kinks.
We'll get through it.
Remember, every one of you has a very special place here.
We need to get rid of Allison.
What? No! She's my friend.
She's dead weight, Kenny.
And St. Barklay's is hosting
the Christmas Choir Competition this year.
I, for one, am not gonna lose to those Episcopalians again.
As much as I love Allison, I don't want want her messing up my solo.
Are you two kidding me?
That is not the spirit of Christmas.
Please let me take Allison under my wing.
I had a piano teacher.
She disappeared.
Yeah. Wish me luck.
Hey, Mom.
- I finished the Nativity. - Oh!
I think you're really gonna like what I did with Joseph this year.
Oh, okay, fine, I'll tell you.
I gave him a porkpie hat.
Oh, well, that's better
than the soul patch you gave him last year.
I have a project for you.
Oh, bro! It's a GoPro!
Thanks, Mommy.
No, I want you to do some recon on the Episcopalians.
Their director, Sheila DeMars...
She's always one-upping us.
I want you to find out what they're singing,
what robes they're wearing,
and if she's had any recent work done.
I'm on it.
Okay, Mom, while I support this chicanery,
I don't think it's enough to win.
I mean, I'm competition-ready,
but the rest of this choir?
Not up to snuff... Especially Chronic Bronchitis Bill,
who stood behind me today and coughed bits of lung into my hair.
Don't worry, Kenny. I'm one step ahead of you.
Part two of my plan is to recruit you
some much-deserved backup.
You're giving me my own Kelly Rowland?!
I don't know what that means, but yes!
♪ ♪
Ethan sent me my Christmas gift early.
Oh, yeah.
You two have been getting pretty serious, huh?
What do you think it is, a journal?
No, a really big locket.
Or a watercolor of a handsome Princess Di.
Dad, it's Suze Orman circa 1995.
Oh. So, this is a good gift?
Of course! Ethan knows me.
I have to get him something even better,
something you can't buy in a store,
something he can't get from anyone else but me.
Just don't overdo it, sweetheart, okay?
You don't want to smother the guy.
For example, I got Gloria
a gift box from Shari's Berries.
I have the vocabulary of a Harvard scholar...
and yet, there are no words.
What?
My mom is on a recon mission.
She's basically an orchestral Terminator.
♪ On a cold winter's night that was so deep ♪
♪ Noel, noel ♪
Okay, everyone.
Uh, I'd like you to meet Brett.
Brett and his family just moved here from Berlin,
so let's give him a great, big St. Barklay's willkommen.
Uh, we're from Berlin, New Jersey, actually.
Oh.
Well, that's still foreign to me.
Okay, have fun.
Hi. Kenny.
So excited to be working with you.
It's actually really hard to meet another baritenor
who can soar over the notes, you know?
We're rare, like four-leaf clovers.
And sociopaths.
Actually, sociopaths aren't as rare as you might think.
Cool.
Anyway, uh, when my mom calls for "mezzo piano,"
what she really means is "mezzo forte,"
which can be mezza-confusing.
That's really funny. I don't get it. Who are you?
Um, my... Eileen is my mom.
You talk about your mom a lot.
♪ ♪
Mm.
I'm so sorry about the misunderstanding.
I mean, I just completely forgot you have diverticulitis.
Oh, it's fine. I mean, it's not like the first thing I tell people
is my intestines can't handle small, hard particles.
I should have listened to Shannon.
She's the expert on gifts.
She's been up in her room for hours
working on Ethan's present.
What's she getting him?
She won't tell me.
But apparently,
it's something he can't get from anyone else but her.
What?
Last time I said that to a guy, it meant sex.
What?! No.
She's too young.
She's 15. That's old enough.
I mean, for a permit, maybe a quinceañera.
- I lost my virginity at that age. - You did?
Yeah, and I was a late bloomer.
But I did make up for it in college.
Not that I became a slut, I just dated a lot of guys.
And a professor, which got weird.
I mean, I deserved the "F,"
but not the restraining order.
God, I miss her.
That is a lot of information.
Hey, Mom.
So, I've been practicing with the GoPro all day.
I think I'm ready to inseminate Sheila.
I'm gonna assume you mean "infiltrate,"
and that's good.
They post their song list tonight.
I want to find out exactly what it is they're planning for the contest.
Got it.
Wait, then what is "artificial infiltration"?
Okay, people!
Let's start with "O Come, All Ye Faithful,"
and remember, use your core, okay, or lip sync.
Your choice.
Just choose wisely.
Let's start with Kenny's solo.
- ♪ Ooo-oo-oo-oooh ♪ - ♪ Come and behold him ♪
- ♪ Ooo-oo-oo-oooh ♪ - ♪ Born the king of angels ♪
- ♪ Oh, come ♪ - ♪ Oh, come, let us adore him ♪
♪ Oh, come... ♪
Come on, Brett!
Brett is completely drowning me out.
He's supposed to be backup.
I don't think he can help it.
It is distracting.
And we do want to win, right?
More than anything.
Well, if we can't make your two beautiful voices work together,
we have to fix it.
Do what you got to do.
I'm glad you agree.
All right, excuse me, everybody.
Uh, slight change of plans...
From here on out, Brett...
will be our soloist.
What? Where does that leave me?
Uh, you'll be our group soloist or our groupist.
That's not a thing.
Well, it is now.
Mother, you betrayed your son...
Your only son... who sings.
Look, Brett's not my favorite person, either.
It is amazing that that sourpuss of his
can emit such sweet sounds,
but it does and we need to win.
So... he gets the solo.
- That's not fair. - Fine!
Then practice until you're as good as Brett,
and I'll give you the solo back.
Okay, deal.
You know what, this is like in "Dreamgirls" when Effie,
spurned by Curtis for choosing Deena over her,
makes her emotional appeal to him
by telling him that she is, in fact, not going.
Hmm.
Again, I don't know what you mean.
Yet weirdly, I do.
Mm!
♪ ♪
Dad, what are you doing?
Oh, uh, nothing.
Nothing.
Um, that was your third shower today. Is everything all right?
It's fine. I've just been getting Ethan's gift ready.
Dad, please don't stroke out now.
- I'm in a towel. I'll never recover. - Oh, no.
I'm fine. I'm fine.
I just wanted to have a little...
a little talk with you about, uh, adulthood.
So, you see, adults are big people
that grow from little people.
And, uh...
Well, it's kind of like...
you grew from these shoes.
Those are from my American Girl doll.
My feet were never that size. I was born 11 pounds.
Yes, well...
...you were always big for your age.
Well, I'll let you get back to your preparations.
This is Agent O'Neal reporting from enemy territory.
It looks like they're doing some classic numbers,
possibly a medley.
Also, there's a strange scent of toast,
which the camera may or may not be picking up.
I should have saved you a piece.
I'm sorry,
as I'm lost because I'm from Britain.
Save it. I know who you are.
I'm just a simple chimney sweep.
I have see your photo in the St. Barklay's bulletin.
You have ridiculous hair.
You know, I could have your whole choir disqualified.
No, don't...
Please don't do that, Sheila DeMars.
I... They've worked really hard.
I'll... I'll destroy the video,
and I'll ta... I'll take all the blame.
No, I have an even better idea.
You keep the footage,
but you have to do something for me in return.
Okay.
But I'm gonna need some dim lights
and for you to do your voice like Flo from Progressive.
I don't want to have sex with you!
I mean, your father?
Maybe.
Oh.
I need you to spy on your mother,
and if you blab about this to anyone,
I will have St. Barklay's blacklisted
from this competition forever.
Fine. I'll do it.
I'll inseminate my mom.
You O'Neals are a funny bunch.
♪ ♪
Who died? Was it the guy with the cough?
I really want to give you the business right now,
but I don't have the lung capacity.
Everyone here is fine.
Even our sickly members were on time.
I'm late?
I thought rehearsal started at 9:30.
No.
Guess I was misinformed.
- Okay. - All right, it was me.
But I figured the only way to make me better
was to make Brett worse.
♪ Bum, bum, bum, bum ♪
♪ Bum, bum, bum ♪
♪ Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba bum ♪
♪ Bum, bum, bum-bum, bum, bum, bum-bum, bum ♪
♪ Bum, bum-bum, bum, bum, bum-bum, bum, bum ♪
Great job, everyone,
and I want you to rest those voices at home.
I don't care if your loved one passes out in front of you.
You are to make to make that 911 call whispering.
And these are to keep your pipes lubricated for tomorrow
when my M... mm... Choirmaster O'Neal...
...gives us her final evaluations.
Jodi... tea.
Allison... tea.
Bill... tea.
Brett... double latte, whipped cream, extra milk.
Uh, pass on the phlegm-uccino.
Isn't dairy bad for the pipes?
Is it?
I'm not as challenged mentally as you are vertically.
What is your problem?
Me?
I'm not the one who's been trying to undermine me
for the past week.
And what about you?
I mean, you practically rode a Harley into the choir room
and didn't laugh at my jokes,
which are amazing and reflect my unique world view.
And don't forget your unnatural obsession with the limelight.
Oh, please. You love it, too.
If I'm told to stand in the front, I stand in the front.
I can't help it if I look good there.
Okay, then what is your thing, Brett?
I mean, you must have a flaw,
otherwise you would have gone out of your way
to make friends in a new church
as opposed to being an aloof jerk.
I mean, I'm a likeable person! Why don't you like me?!
That's the problem, you idiot.
I do like you.
♪ ♪
Oh.
I had no idea.
Why didn't you tell me you were gay?
Do you like avocados?
Obviously. They're good fats.
Why didn't you tell me you like avocados?
Okay, yeah.
I see your point.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not closeted or anything,
I just don't go around announcing that I'm into dudes.
Yeah, me, neither.
It's so tacky.
I'm gay!
I'm gay.
I'm gay, I'm not European.
Yeah, sometimes the moment calls for it.
I'm sorry I was so standoffish.
I was crushing on you, and I totally overcompensated.
Well, we all have ways of protecting ourselves, right?
Look, the only reason I joined the choir was to meet you.
And I didn't plan on getting the solo,
and I certainly didn't intend to come between you and your mom,
who you do talk about a lot.
- Yeah. - So, I'll quit.
What? No.
Yes.
This competition clearly means more to you
than it does to me.
And I'd like to stick around.
So I get the solo and the guy.
It really is a Christmas miracle!
Don't get on that bus!
It's eight minutes away.
Dad, what are you doing here?
I... I...
I can't let you have sex with Ethan.
I mean, sex is awesome,
and I know you probably don't want to hear that right now...
- I don't. - But you need to.
And look, I can't stop you from having sex,
but I can ll you that it will affect the rest of your life.
And if you decide to wait,
I promise you will not regret moving too slow.
But if you go too far too fast,
you can't go back in time.
Okay, take a breath.
I'm not having sex with Ethan.
Oh, thank God.
Well, then, what are you doing?!
I'm going to his house to give him his present.
Which is sex!
Or...
a diorama of us...
...at the Natural History Museum.
My is hero Suze Orman, his is Wes Anderson.
So I created a milieu of us looking at us looking at us.
And that's why he couldn't get it from anyone else but you.
But then why all the showers?
I got glue in my hair from making the miniatures.
So whatever you thought I was doing... gross.
Sorry, honey.
W-Why didn't you stop me from saying all of that?
You were on a roll.
I figured you were just working something out.
Why would you even think that?
Oh, it was Gloria.
She told me all these crazy things
that I had to look up in the Urban Dictionary.
You definitely are Jimmy's dad.
♪ ♪
Jimmy.
Mom?
Whoa, what's... What's up?
I me... Wha-wha... What are... What are you doing here?
- Why were you just filming me? - I wasn't.
Hmm.
I'm a chimney sweep!
Y-You're giving me collywobbles, Dame Helen Mirren...
Ow!
It was Sheila DeMars!
Okay, I offered her terrible things
in exchange for my silence,
but she made me film you.
By the way, you sleep with your eyes open.
I don't think that's normal.
You taped everything with the camera facing the wrong way.
There's nothing on here
but hours and hours of your nostrils.
Oh, this is the best news ever!
Mm.
I am sorry I wronged you, Mom.
- Mm-hmm. - And you are right...
Episcopalians are wily and highly sexual.
Well, you're not done with them yet.
I want you to go back to Sheila DeMars
and tell her that we are doing "The Little Drummer Boy."
- But you're not. - Exactly.
I want to throw her off.
Now, is there anything else I need to know
before I lead our choir to victory?
Um...
Oh, did you hear Brett quit?
No.
No, I did not hear that.
Kenny... just who I wanted to see.
Will you hold this nail for me?
I'd rather not.
You made Brett quit the choir,
and now we have zero chance of winning.
Gee, thanks for that vote of confidence.
Maybe if you believed in me from the beginning,
none of this would have happened.
You wanted him to join just as much as I did.
Right, but you care more about winning than your family.
Jimmy is out there spying for you...
Sweet, sweet, simple Jimmy.
That's how low you stoop.
Oh, excuse me, you wanted to give someone bronchitis.
You wanted to kick Allison out!
And you agreed with me!
Remember, when we were on the same page?
You know what, I admit it.
I don't think this contest
has brought out the best in either of us.
I know.
I'm gonna need like a month of Confession after this.
Well, you know, I guess we'll just get what we deserve...
A loser's plaque and a coupon for Applebee's.
Maybe we could write another ending.
♪ Bum, bum, ba-da, ba-da, ba-dum ♪
♪ Shall I play for you, pa rum pum pum pum ♪
♪ On my drum? ♪
I can't believe she got an Iraq vet to be the drummer boy.
Remember, Mom... We have a plan.
♪ Bum, bum, bum ♪
What? Why are you taking off your robe?
I can't do it. I quit.
I appreciate all your help,
but I'm just not cut out to sing.
No, you are not.
You sound like a seal in its death throes.
However, God only said you had to make a joyful noise.
He didn't say you had to use your mouth.
Bitchin'.
Good luck topping Sergeant Rodriguez.
Oh, you know what? And by the way...
He's handing out gifts to homeless children later
dressed as Santa.
So suck on that.
I'm not threatened by your cheap theatrics,
but it's nice to see you
and the fourth version of your face.
Now for our final singers of the night.
Let's hear it for St. Barklay's.
♪ O holy night, the stars are brightly shining ♪
♪ It is the night of our dear savior's birth ♪
♪ Hey, I am the truth ♪
♪ Hey, I am the wisdom of the fallen ♪
♪ I'm the youth ♪
♪ Hey, I am the greatest, hey, this is the proof ♪
♪ Hey, I work hard, pray hard, pay dues, hey ♪
♪ Don't give up, I won't give up ♪
♪ Don't give up, no, no, no ♪
♪ Don't give up ♪
♪ I won't give up ♪
♪ Don't give up ♪
♪ No, no, no ♪
- ♪ Fall on your knees ♪ - ♪ Don't give up, I won't give up ♪
♪ Don't give up, no, no, no ♪
- ♪ Oh, hear the angel voices ♪ - ♪ Don't give up, I won't give up ♪
♪ Don't give up, no, no, no ♪
♪ I'm free to be the greatest, I'm alive ♪
♪ I'm free to be the greatest ♪
♪ I'm free to be the greatest here tonight ♪
- ♪ Free ♪ - ♪ The greatest ♪
♪ Oh, night divine ♪
- ♪ Oh, don't give up, I won't give up ♪ - ♪ Oh, night when Christ was born ♪
- ♪ Don't give up, no, no, no ♪ - ♪ The greatest ♪
- ♪ Don't give up, I won't give up ♪ - ♪ Oh, night ♪
- ♪ Don't give up, no, no, no ♪ - ♪ Divine ♪
♪ Oh, night ♪
♪ The greatest night ♪
And the winner of the 2016 Christmas Choir Competition is...
Universal Life Church.
Mm. We forgot about the gays.
♪ ♪
You okay, Mom?
Are you kidding?
The Episcopalians lost.
I'm ecstatic!
What about you?
♪ ♪
I'm great.
Oh, this thing is idiot-proof.
Instructions are for losers.
There's also a strange scent of toast,
which the camera may or may not be picking up.
Everywhere I go, her eyes follow.
Oh, she's like a creepy painting.
What is that light in the sky?
That's too close to be a star.
Oh, my God.
It's Santa.
Santa!
Santa!!
I've been real good this year!
- Synced and corrected by VitoSilans - -- www.Addic7ed.com --