'Twas the Night Before Christmas

Albert:
That's it! That's it, Father. I'll fix the clock by midnight, then maybe Santa will...

Father Mouse:
You believe in Santa?

Albert:
I don't know. I don't know. But I've learned that I still got a lot to learn.

Father Mouse:
But son, you don't know how to fix a clock.

Albert:
That's all right, Father. Copernicus knew.

Albert:
[after Father Mouse has shown him Davy Thomas] But these are just kids. Grownups never believe in Santa.

Father Mouse:
Don't quite know everything, do you?

Father Mouse:
As we say when approaching a tall piece of cheddar - better start from the top. The trouble began two months ago when the mailman came.

Father Mouse:
"'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse." Well, *I'm* stirring. If only I could sleep. If only I knew. We've got trouble, the boss and me. *Big* trouble. I mean, how would you feel if there were only three minutes till Christmas, and you didn't know whether...?

Mayor:
Citizen? They're not allowed in here. This is public property.

Father Mouse:
Albert.

Albert:
Yes, Father.

Father Mouse:
There's something we have to talk about.

Albert:
I said, "Yes, Father".

Father Mouse:
"Yes, Father", what?

Albert:
I wrote the letter. My friends and I, that is. "All of us".

Father Mouse:
Merry Christmas, Mr. Trundle.

Joshua Trundle:
Not very merry, I'm afraid.

Father Mouse:
You were right, of course. And it's my fault, my family's.

Joshua Trundle:
How so?

Father Mouse:
My older boy, Albert. First he insulted Santa and then... I can hardly say it.

Joshua Trundle:
Go on.

Father Mouse:
I'm afraid he got into your clock to see how it worked, and then...

Joshua Trundle:
Kerplunk.

Father Mouse:
Kerplowie.

Joshua Trundle:
So... that was it.

Father Mouse:
The boy has repented; he's trying to make amends right now.

Father Mouse:
You don't know as much as you think because you only think with your head. So you have a lot of trouble believing in things you can't see or touch.

Albert:
Like for instance, what things?

Father Mouse:
Long words... long words... long words!

Father Mouse:
[voiceover] The same thing was happening *all* over town as boys and girls got their letters back from Santa. No one knew what it meant, but we grownups knew one thing for sure: we were gonna do *everything* we could to find out.

Father Mouse:
Which brings us to where we were: three minutes... [as Father Mouse holds up his alarm clock, we hear an ominous chime, which is a signal that it's almost Christmas] Three seconds to Christmas! [we now hear carolers singing "Silent Night"] No chimes. No song. No Santa.

Father Mouse:
[after Albert tries out Mr. Trundle's model clock] What's the matter with you? You wanna wake everyone up?

Albert:
That's pretty neat. Does it work in a gear and pinion principle or an AC synchronous motor?

Father Mouse:
Well, it's more of a - a gear, what? Synchronous uh, who?

Albert:
Ever since Copernicus, Dad, it was known that...

Father Mouse:
Never mind, never mind, you may know algebra, son, but this time, the whole town's counting on this clock.

Mayor:
And now Mr. Trundle, if you will start your magnificent clock and its song that will make Santa Claus our friend again.

Joshua Trundle:
With pleasure.

Father Mouse:
After the clock went kerplowie, life changed for Mr. Trundle. No one trusted him anymore.

Joshua Trundle:
[as some grumpy customers leave with their clocks] Please. Come back. I'm still a good clock maker, really I am.

Father Mouse:
Winter came and things got tough for the Trundles, and if you think they had it bad... we'd have swapped our whiskers for a peanut shell or a round ripe apple seed, but meals don't fall from empty tables. Then finally it was Christmas Eve.

Father Mouse:
While the people were storming the Village Hall and the mayor was wishing he was somewhere else, *I* decided to give Mouse Bell a whirl and get the word from up north.

Mayor:
You may build your clock, Mr. Trundle. And may the enchanting tones of its melody *soar* to the pinnacle of celestial heights where... oh heck, get started.

Father Mouse:
Here's our first example of how you've ruined everyone's Christmas with your opinions.

Father Mouse:
This children's hospital once knew laughter. Best medicine there is, but not anymore.

Father Mouse:
There's Davy Thomas. The best artist in school, he made that picture of Santa when he thought that Santa cared.

Father Mouse:
Mr. Trundle's been hard at work making a special clock. [pointing to the model clock] There's the model. When the clock strikes twelve on Christmas Eve, it'll play a song welcoming Santa. Does that sound like a man who doesn't believe?

Albert:
A song? [jumping onto the clock's face] Is that when the hands come together like this? [he turns the minute hand to 12, and music emits]

Father Mouse:
[seeing Albert crying] What is it?

Albert:
My fault... all my fault... I've ruined everyone's Christmas.

Father Mouse:
I know. I know you wrote the letter, Albert. You told us so, and that was honest of you. But as you said, it *was* your opinion.

Albert:
No, that isn't it. Something else.

Father Mouse:
What else?

Albert:
Mr... Mr. Trundle's clock - at the village hall. I... I wanted to see how it worked, so I climbed into it and...

Father Mouse:
Kerplunk?

Albert:
Kerplowie...

Father Mouse:
You broke the clock?

Albert:
I - I didn't mean it, Father; I'm sorry... so sorry...

Father Mouse:
It's not enough to be sorry; when you've done something wrong, you have to correct the thing you did.

Joshua Trundle:
[singing] So you hope, and I'll hurry; you pray, and I'll plan. We'll do what's necessary 'cause even a miracle needs a hand.

Father Mouse:
[singing] There's more to the world than meets the eye when doubts in your mind give your heart a try. Let up a little on the "wonder why" and give your heart a try.

Boy Mouse:
[seeing their letters they wrote to Santa are tossed down to them in the mail] Hey, wait a minute. This isn't for us, it's for Santa.

Girl Mouse:
So's this.

Mother Mouse:
And this.

Father Mouse:
And this.

Boy Mouse:
I spilled that ink. These are the letters we wrote to Santa.

Father Mouse:
The letters we wrote to Santa - returned?