“Jack Skellington: Forgive me, Mr. Claus. I'm afraid I've made a terrible mess of your holiday.
Santa: Bumpy sleigh ride... Jack. Next time you get the urge to take over someone else's holiday, I'd listen to her. [points to Sally] She's the only one who makes any sense around this insane asylum! [walks away, muttering]
Santa: Skeletons, boogie men...
Jack Skellington: I hope there's still time.
Santa: To fix Christmas? Of course there is! I'm Santa Claus! [flies out chimney]”
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“[singing] And on a dark cold night, under full moonlight, he flies into the fog like a…”