There's something about a man in a Santa Claus suit that just drives me absolutely crazy. Maybe it's-- It's the warmth of all that red, hot, sweaty flannel set against the austere coldness of those black, patent leather, jackboots. Or maybe it's because those rosy cheeks and twinkling eyes bespeak a passion that is about to erupt from a man who just spent a cold, lonely year cooped-up with a pack of dwarves. I'm not sure. All I know is the sight of a Santa sets my body aflame with unbridled desire.
(movie projector running) Still wonderful, isn't it? And no dialogue. We didn't need dialogue, we had faces. There just aren't any faces like that anymore. Maybe one, Garbo. Oh, those idiot producers. Those imbeciles. Haven't they got any eyes? Have they forgotten what a star looks like?! I'll show them! I'll be up there again, so help me!