- Okay, everyone,
Uncle Tony's turning the big five-O this weekend.
So we gotta figure out which of us
are making the cut for the party.
I think I gotta be there.
- The OG. Word.
- I mean, guys, I'm literally coming outta the faucets.
It wasn't even really a question.
Okay. Next up, Soda.
- Hi, I'm Soda.
- We know.
- I am a crisp, refreshing carbonated beverage.
- You don't need to explain yourself, okay?
We always need a soft option for the people
who don't wanna drink water for whatever reason.
- Okay, thank you.
- Beer, you're next.
- I'm ready, coach.
I just got some new koozies.
They say, "I'm working on my six pack". (laughing)
- Cool, I don't care.
- Do you get it?
'Cause I come in a six pack, oftentimes.
- We get it.
We're not brain dead.
Anyway, you're in because Uncle Tony loves you.
- What's not to love, right?
- Okay, moving on to a duo
with a little more chemistry.
- I think he means us.
(liquor muttering)
I mean, we are a lock, right?
Who else is gonna fill that punch bowl?
- What is this for again?
- Uncle Tony's birthday party.
- Oh, good old Uncle Tommy.
I'll be there. Booze it or lose it.
- No arguments here.
Just get your proportions right.
We can't have Aunt Hilda passed out
on the ottoman again this year.
- Oh yeah.
I remember that, man.
- It's-a me! Chianti Classico!
- Oh wow!
Look at the vintage on this guy.
You're ready for primetime, buddy.
- Mamma Mia! Uncle Tony,
He's gonna love the party so much.
- How about me?
I'm only one years old.
- What are you doing here, Sangiovese?
You're just a tiny little baby!
You're not old enough!
Do you want people to spit you out?
No, get back to the cellar!
(Sangiovese crying)
- Oh, Mamma Mia, the little bambino! (muttering gibberish)
(Chianti laughs)
- Okay, now things get a bit trickier.
Coffee.
You're great.
We love you but...
- Hold up, Chief. Let me guess.
You're, you're gonna say, who's gonna beeline
for the Columbian blend on a hip happenin' Saturday night?
- Narcs. That's who.
- But let me ask you something:
How are these folks gonna get their minds right
after dipping their snoots and all that spiked punch?
(Liquor muttering)
You need a cleanup guy.
- I mean, I can handle that.
- No, man! They need a jolt!
They need lean, mean caffeine.
- Okay. But what's your weird cousin's excuse?
- Oh, well, excuse me
if people wanna go to bed at a decent hour.
- Yeah. But then you gotta make two separate pots.
It's this whole thing.
- Someone will ask for me. There's always one.
One who, in their shame, takes the host aside
and in a whisper asks,
"Do you have any decaf?"
- It would be cheaper and taste better to drink gasoline.
- Ouch.
- Seems like an oxymoron to me, but whatever.
You're in, Decaf.
All right. Who we got next?
- Got... me?
- Okay. No. Sorry. We're not serving milk at a party.
- If coffee gets to stay, why not me?
- You know, we got the creamer.
- The creamer? You're bringing that phony baloney jughead
when I've got all the vitamins and minerals?
- No one comes to a party to drink milk, dude.
- What about the children, huh?
Uncle Tony's got some nieces and nephews
and they need a cold beverage as well.
- I mean, kids love me.
- Okay. They need a drink without 45 grams
of high fructose corn syrup sending them up the walls.
- Okay.
- Well, what about juice?
- Oh, nah, nah, nah, I got juice all myself. Okay?
- If it were up to you people,
you'd have eight year olds doing keg stands.
And I am here to put my foot down and say, "No!"
I do a body good!
- You know, you're really lucky I'm so tolerant, Milk.
- Hey, what's milk without a little shake, huh?
- Wait a second. You weren't invited.
You're too thick.
- Oh, there's there's no such thing as too thick.
- In my opinion,
anyone who spends that much time in a blender is sus.
- Oh right. And I'm sure you were freshly squeezed.
- Ugh!
- Ohhhh!
- Hey, you gotta, you got a problem, buddy?
- What are you gonna do, Liquor?
You can't even walk straight.
Y'all need to show me some respect. Okay?
Just because the milkshake machines are always broken
at McDonald's does not mean...
Uh... why are y'all staring at me like that?
- The mustache, it'a fall off the face!
- Oh, fudge.
- What do you think you're doing here, Liquid Antacid?
I know the wording might be a little confusing,
but the beverage table is only for beverages. Okay?
There's no place for you.
- Y'all think you're so great.
But what are you good for, really?
Artificial flavors.
Jitters and indigestion.
Hangovers
and poor decisions.
- Yeah.
- Lactose.
And you...
You sustain life
so I can't really say anything bad about you.
You all may start the party, but I keep it going.
So put me out there where folks can see me
'cause you know they need me.
- Okay. All in favor of having Liquid Antacid
at the beverage table raise your hand.
(Beer coughing)
(Liquor muttering)
- Oh, nevermind.
- Then it's back to the medicine cabinet where you belong.
- I see how it is. Have fun at your lame-o party, losers.
- Why, hello, everybody.
I am cough s...
Coffee, coffee, coffee.
(Coffee clears his throat)
- Forget it, Cough Syrup.
They already figured it out.
- Oh, crap jacks.
- Let's just head back
to the medicine cabinet where we're respected.
- Nothing personal.
- Don't talk to me.
- Okay.
- You guys are really missing out.
I can get crazy at parties!
(lounge music)