Eddie: You surprised, Clark?
Clark: Eddie, I wouldn't be more suprised if I woke up with my head sewn to the carpet.
Where do you think you're going? Nobody's leaving. Nobody's walking out on this fun, old-fashioned family Christmas. No, no. We're all in this together. This is a full-blown, four-alarm holiday emergency here. We're gonna press on, and we're gonna have the hap, hap, happiest Christmas since Bing Crosby tap-danced with Danny f**king Kaye. And when Santa squeezes his fat white a*s down that chimney tonight, he's gonna find the jolliest bunch of as**oles this side of the nuthouse.
Hey. If any of you are looking for any last-minute gift ideas for me, I have one. I'd like Frank Shirley, my boss, right here tonight. I want him brought from his happy holiday slumber over there on Melody Lane with all the other rich people and I want him brought right here, with a big ribbon on his head, and I want to look him straight in the eye and I want to tell him what a cheap, lying, no-good, rotten, four-flushing, low-life, snake-licking, dirt-eating, inbred, overstuffed, ignorant, blood-sucking, dog-kissing, brainless, di*kless, hopeless, heartless, fat-a*s, bug-eyed, stiff-legged, spotty-lipped, worm-headed sack of monkey sh*t he is. Hallelujah. Holy sh*t. Where's the Tylenol?
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