These trees are a travesty on Christmas. Do you realize that all over the country farmers are going out into their own fields, chopping down their own trees, carrying them back to their own farmhouses, while in the kitchen the wives are baking the fruitcakes, mulling cider, stringing their own popcorn. These people are having a real old-fashioned Christmas. –He's been hitting the egg nog a little early, isn't he?
Damnit, Warden, I think this game's a big mistake. –Captain, not only will you have the chance to hone our team to a fine edge, you'll also have the opportunity to learn a great deal about life. Why is it, do you suppose, that I can walk through this yard, surrounded by hate, and in total command? –Because you've got 15 gun turrets all around you that say you can.
Are you happy with the corns I strung for you? –Lisa, you're supposed to take the kernals off the cob and string them. –Well, don't blame me. I never did it before. In the old country, we used to string caviar. –Caviar? –We'd have caviar on one string and crackers on the other. –Oh, for-- –And then we'd play the Hungarian Christmas game called 'Smear the crackers with caviar.'
Gentlemen, I'm surprised at you. The American farmer didn't get where he is today by celebrating Christmas with phony trees and wax popcorn, plastic candy cane. Gentlemen, to the American farmer Christmas is real. He goes out with ax in hand, chops down his own tree, brings it back, garlands it with strings of popcorn from his own corn crib, makes cider from his own apple trees. And when Christmas carols ring out in the still of the night, he looks up to the sky and says, 'I'm proud to be an American farmer on Christmas.'