CHORUS: Merry, merry Christmas time / Bind every heart with happiness / Let everyone...
NARRATOR1: Yes, once again, it was a white Christmas. Melodies of Yuletide hung sweet upon the winter's air.
Hearts were gay and spirits high.
Indeed, in all the city, only one spot was untouched by the warmth of Christmas cheer.
The Tower, grim monument to despair.
Cold, cruel, forbidding, and the abode of Toad for a good many Christmases to come. Poor Toad.
Alone with memories
of his wasted life. What a fool he'd been! With many a pang he recalled the kindly face of Angus MacBadger, and his sage advice, so often scorned. A tear for Moley, too, for his loyalty, sympathy, understanding. Toad wept for Rat, and all those little lectures so often laughed at. Yes, within the dark confines of his miserable cell, a new Toad was born. A reformed Toad, a repentant Toad. In a flood of remorse, he vowed to forsake the follies of the Primrose path. Never again would he give way to those mad, foolish manias that had brought him to this sorry end.
POLICEMEN: As it's Christmas, you're allowed a visitor. Your grandma's here.
TOAD: Grandma?
CYRIL: Merry Christmas, sonny!
Granny wouldn't forget her little Toady boy!
Look, Christmas gift.
TOAD: What is it?
CYRIL: Don't you get it? A disguise. All you've got to do is put on this natty little costume and...
NARRATOR1: Alas for good intentions. Toad was incurable. One whispered word and all his high resolve vanished in the mad whirl of this new adventure.
This new mania: escape!
POLICEMEN: Toad's escaped!
POLICEMEN 1: Halt! Good evening, ma'am.
TOAD: Good evening to you, Officer. We're merrily, merrily, merrily.
POLICEMEN 1: Begging your pardon, but you...
POLICEMEN 2: You fellows, do you see him?
NARRATOR1: Gad, what perfectly ripping luck! Trap Toad, would they? Never!
POLICEMEN 3: There he goes!
POLICEMEN 4: Where?
POLICEMEN 5: Over there!
NARRATOR1: Blockheads! Let them scour the countryside. Once more, J. Thaddeus Toad had the last laugh. That Christmas Eve, along the riverbank, the name of Toad was banned from conversation, lest the memory of his disgrace becloud the merriment of the season. Yet there was one home, at least, in which two loyal hearts still held the warmth of Christian charity.
RAT: Bless this good food we are about to enjoy. Bless us, every one. And bless poor Toad.
MOLE: And may he get time off for good behaviour. Why, it's a poor old lady. Let's take her over by the fire.
RAT: What are you doing here?
TOAD: I was just sort of.
MOLE: Well, this is a merry Christmas! But aren't you afraid of the police?
TOAD: Afraid of the police? I, Toad, afraid of the police?
ANGUS MACBADGER: Open up, I say!
TOAD: The police! Hide me, Ratty!
RAT: Sorry, but you owe a debt to society. And you've got to pay. Mole, let them in.
MOLE: But, Ratty, don't you think, maybe.
RAT: Open the door!
MOLE: MacBadger!
ANGUS MACBADGER: Hi, lads! I've just made a very important discovery.
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