- You drunk little bitch.
You make me sick.
- That fat piece of shit made you look like a fool, Charlie.
He basically pulled your little dick out
in front of everyone and jerked you off
until nothing came out
because you are a boy.
- I'm afraid to say, this is your intervention.
- What the fuck?
(people laughing)
- This woman's been through absolute hell.
She drank diarrhea!
- Huh?
- I don't care.
- Shouldn't have had such a sloppy mud pie.
- There is no mud pie!
- Just to get school supplies,
her mom had to drink puke for a local morning radio show.
Did you know that?
- Man, that's a bummer.
- Yeah!
What? - You're in this man's seat.
- No, I'll show you my ticket right here.
- That's way back there.
- But can I stay here?
- Well, you can't just sit wherever.
You can at some concerts.
- We got a certified chode on our hands.
- Okay. Okay. So cute.
Look what I just posted.
"Eating crap with these sacks of shit."
- Huh?
- "Slapping down some pig shit with these fat fucks,
and I'm the fattest of them all."
- Whoa!
- "Sunday Funday with these pig dicks.
Hope nobody gulps us."
- What?
- Did I stutter, Megan?
- Okay, this one's easy.
He's got the freak lips.
He can hit the high C all night long.
He was king of the tuk tuk sound.
- Is this another jazz guy?
- Laura, you know this.
- Time!
- (groans) Come on, guys!
We didn't get one.
- That's because they're supposed
to be celebrities everyone knows.
- Oh, you mean like household names?
Like Roy Donk or Jack Marshall,
who wrote The Munsters theme song?
- Roy Donk?
- Hey sweetie, I think you're just hungry.
Eat some of your Arizona walnuts.
- That's a good idea.
Where be your nutcracker?
- I mean, I think we have one
in our Christmas stuff in the attic.
- Great.
Well, that'll only take you a sec.
(laughs)
- Can we stop at the ice cream store on the way home?
- No, not today.
It's already way too late.
- Pretty please?
I've been good all day.
- You know, I, I wish we could,
but actually, the ice cream store is closed today.
- Yeah, your dad's right.
- See? What did I tell you?
- Your dad and I are old friends. (clears throat)
That's how come we both know about ice cream stores.
- Okay, buddy.
- We go way back.
Way back.
We're the same age actually, right?
- Uh, yeah.
- And I own every kind of classic car.
♪ Say what ♪
- Ow!
Stop!
You're pulling on my shirt!
Off, ugh!
What the fuck, man?
He wrecked my shirt.
- Don't swear!
- Fuck!
- Fuck you, Harley Jarvis! - Get her out!
God damn it!
- Let us bow our heads.
- Two, three, four! (discordant circus music)
(glass shatters)
(horn honks)
My condolences.
- Follow my lead, in G.
♪ He rolled into town on a jet black mare ♪
♪ Spat and hitched her to a tree ♪
♪ He made his way to the town saloon ♪
♪ The day Robert Palens murdered me ♪
♪ It was also the night that the skeletons came to life ♪
♪ The bones are their money ♪
♪ So are the worms. ♪
♪ They pull your hair off but not out ♪
♪ To turn into a man ♪
♪ And have another chance at life ♪
♪ But if they pull it out they turn to bones ♪
- Yes! (laughs)
(machinery whirring)
- Scrooge!
- Who are you?
- I am the Ghost of Christmas Way Future!
- I've already met the Ghost of Christmas Future.
- I said Way Future, Scrooge!
- What are you here to show me?
- Christmas of the year 3050.
Skeletrex and his Bone Brigade
have enslaved the human race and we need your help.
- What are you talking about?
- Bonies are slaughtering humans by the millions,
taking their bones and using them
to make more bone soldiers.
And more important, fleets of bone cars.
- What? - Friggin' bonies!
♪ Who will be the baby of the year ♪
♪ Look at their rolls ♪
♪ Look at their folds ♪
♪ Look at their rummy, bummy tummies ♪
♪ Heads are round, bellies are squishy ♪
♪ Look at the toes, like so many curled, canned shrimp ♪
- I sued the city because I was accidentally sewed
into the pants of the big Charlie Brown
at the Thanksgiving Day Parade.
- Does that sound boring to you?
- No, no.
I just don't want to do it.
- (farts) Excuse me.
- Oh my God. - What?
I said "excuse me," all right?
We all do it.
Let's just not make a big deal about it.
- I fucked this whole thing up.
(dramatic music)