Alright, Flippy boy, it’s Christmas eve.
Time to take advantage of all these last minute holiday shoppers.
Cha ching!
How much are all these lights gonna cost me?
It’s 200 feet of lights at $1 per foot. That's $500!
Ahh!
Hey I’ll put it on your tab!
Well, you’re considering the Majestic Pine, huh?
I’m not so sure.
This thing looks like it’s gone to meet its evergreen maker, don’t you think?
Eh, one way to be sure is, the stronger the scent,
the fresher the tree. So, go on, ladies, Give it a whiff!
Woo wee! That smells fresher than the perfume samples
in our Country Gal magazines. We’ll take it.
Huh?
Oh and uh, all sales are final.
[grunting]
Flip. Kudos on your fine selection of inflatable Christmas figures.
We McBride’s pride ourselves on having the jolliest yard display in town.
Guess we lucked out with this last minute holiday sale.
Oh, that sale ended four seconds ago.
Tough break there, chief.
Ugh.
The Louds! My big cha chingers. Eh heh.
Holiday salutations, Flip.
Father got busy at the restaurant and failed to plan our
Christmas Eve dinner tonight.
I’m, I’m such a bad dad.
Hey, your old pal Flip could take care of this yuletide kerfuffle.
Hurry Lisa.
I need to be cooking soon or we’ll be eating as Santa squeezes down the chimney.
No, no.
These provisions look questionable.
Hey, that offends me to my core.
I pride myself on carrying the best!
Hmm?
[squawking]
The highly repulsive defense rests.
Gah!
[gasping]
[grunting]
Flip, I’m done with your ding dang deliveries!
Can I take this off? Tights are chaffing.
Nope. You ain’t even close to paying off the damage you did.
But I told you I was bursting
and accidentally dropped the key in the nacho cheese vat.
Eh, your bladder ain’t my problem. I need all these delivered.
You got to work tonight and tomorrow.
What? Christmas day! Major holiday foul man.
[grunting]
You call this a Christmas tree? For shame!
I hope this misdeed haunts you like an indigestible ham bone in the gullet!
[laughing]
Merry Christmas, Fliparooney.
[coughing]
Ooo wahhh. Ooo. Ugh.
[snoring]
Leapin’ pork rinds!
Look, if you're here to complain about that turkey,
I am the ghost of Christmas past.
I am the first of three ghosts that will visit you tonight
and reveal the error of your greedy ways.
Come with me.
No sirree. Flip ain’t going nowhere.
Cash works.
Oh!
Well, here we are. Your middle school Christmas dance.
[grunting]
Ah! Here’s someone you may know.
Heh! Who’s that lame-o? Heh heh. Oh, it’s me.
I remember this.
I’d finally gotten up the nerve dash Tammy Gobblesworth to the dance.
Ticket, please.
[grunting]
Ahh! I lost it!
Sorry, dude, I can’t let you in without a ticket.
I’d tell you to buy another, but we’re sold out.
But my gal’s waiting for me.
[groaning]
Psst! I got a ticket.
- Eh, I’ll take that ticket. - Not so fast!
- It’s going to cost you. - Ugh.
I hear you got a sweetie inside.
You can’t go in empty handed.
Welcome to Scoots Suits and Succulents!
Ooh! I’ll take those flowers.
[gasping]
- Oh! - Hey, you’re not going in.
This ticket is bogus.
What? Well, can I at least give Tammy these?
All sales final.
Oh.
[growling]
I swore that night I’d never be cheated by anyone again.
This is when the swindled became swindler.
Eh, eh. Hah heh. Whoo!
It’s just a nightmare.
It must have been that broccoli that fell into my nacho cheese.
[laughing]
[grunting]
[laughing]
What in corn chips is going on?
Huh?
Clyde and I are the ghosts of Christmas present.
Yeah, and we're going to take you on what Dr. Lopez calls...
a journey of personal growth.
Ah.