All right, listen up. Before we go any further I'm going to lay down a few rules, all right? Commandment number one: shut the hell up. Commandment number two: there's nothing I can do about the sun. Commandment number three: there are no more Jolly Ranchers. They're all gone. Commandment number four: when we pass a billboard, please don't read it out loud all right? Now come on, let's get going!
Yeah, Peter, one of us has to be the Designated Driver, and I've already had four egg nogs, so I guess you're it. –Hah. That's a good one, Joe. Heh. Way to get into the spirit. Heh heh. –(konk) I'm a cop first and a buddy second, so don't think I wouldn't throw your drunk-driving ass in the slammer! (glug glug glug) All right! Let's a-wassail!
Uh, uh, uh, before you sit down, we're due at Joe and Bonnie's for egg nog. –Lois, can't we tell them that your mother died? –Peter, I'm not going to lie about something like that. –All right, all right, I'll kill your mother. God, when did Christmas become so complicated?
Oh, Lois, you are so full of (bleep)! What?! Now I can't say (bleep) in my own (bleep) house? (bleep) great, Lois, just (bleep) great. You know you're lucky you're good at (bleep) my (bleep) or I'd never put up with you. You know what I'm talking about. When you (bleep) lubed-up (bleep) toothpaste in my (bleep) while you (bleep) on a cherry (bleep) Episcopalian (bleep) extention cord (bleep) wetness (bleep) with a parking ticket. That is the best!