- I hate to be the bearer of bad news, guys,
but they gave us 365 days to split between all of us.
- But January, 365 is not divisible by 12.
- What? - You told us
it would be equal! - Okay, yes, I didn't know-
- What is this crap? - Oh, boy.
- But every fourth year, there is an extra day.
- Every fourth year?
- Look, I didn't come up with this stuff.
So some of you are gonna have 31
and some of you are gonna have 30,
and you're just gonna have to learn to live with it!
- This is so unprofessional.
- Your attitude is unprofessional.
- Uh. - Bruh, I'll take 30.
I don't care.
Let someone else do the extra work,
you know what I'm saying?
- Thank you, June.
I'll put you down for 30.
Anyone else wanna volunteer?
- I volunteer to take all 31 days
to which I am entitled, thank you.
- Okay, that's great.
- If he's getting 31, I want 31.
- Oh, my gosh. - I can, I can take 30.
I don't, I don't need 31. - Thank you, February.
April? What about you? - Me? What about May?
- April showers bring May flowers.
People prefer me more.
- Oh, my gosh. You know what?
Whatever. Fine.
I don't care.
- I would volunteer, except that the ladies love me.
They're all about that sweater weather,
you know what I'm saying? - What? Oh, my God, no.
- So I can't disappoint my fans.
- Seriously? - I'll give up a day.
Heck, I'll give up all 31.
What's the point, anyway?
- Um... - He's a little depressed.
He is the darkest month of the year, after all.
- In the Southern Hemisphere, he's actually the sunniest,
so a lot of these references we're making only make sense
if you're north of the Equator.
- Okay, that's it, September.
I'm taking one from you because I don't think
I can listen to your BS for one extra day.
- Wow. Rude. - Ooh. Dude.
- December, we'll just take one day from you, okay?
- No, no, no, I think December really needs all of his days,
so I can just give up another one of mine.
- You only want 29 days?
- Yeah, it's, it's fine. It's fine.
- That's nice of you.
November, you've been kinda quiet.
You wanna volunteer to give up a day?
- What about you, January?
You're hiding there behind your little task.
Maybe you could stand to lose a day.
- Okay, look, November, if you give up a day,
I'll give up a day.
- No, January, you've been working so hard
to coordinate this, I'll give up another one of my days
so you don't have to.
- What about me?
- You're only gonna take 28 days?
- Yeah, it's fine. - Are you sure about this?
- (sniffles) Yeah. I'm sure.
- I feel a little guilty now.
- Yeah, you should, you piece of crap.
- Okay, well, then it's settled.
30 days has September, April, June, and November.
All the rest have 31. (sad music)
Except for February, who has 28.
- (blubbering) It's fine. It's, this is what I wanted.
(May exhales) - This is so sad.
- That's all well and good,
but there is the remaining issue to be decided
of which one of us gets the extra day every fourth year,
and as I see it, there is only one of us here
who is noble enough to deserve it:
February. - Me?
- I second the motion.
- All in favor, say aye. - Aye.
♪ For he's a jolly good fellow ♪ - You guys.
♪ For he's a jolly good fellow ♪
♪ Which nobody can deny ♪
(mellow music)