Violent Night

Another one?

Well, I'm still vertical, so I'd like to change that.

Ho, ho.

Bitter. Pint.

You just get off?

I'm taking a break.

Between shifts, I guess you could say.

You ain't driving, are you?

I steer a little, but the reindeer do most of the work.

This is my, uh, fourth year as a Santa.

How about you?

Lost count.

I forget why I started doing it in the first place.

Same reason anybody does anything.

The money.

Money. Money.

This whole planet runs on greed.

It's the look on the kiddies' faces, innit?

That's what does it for me.

Ah, the look. Yeah, that look.

Lasts about two seconds.

As soon as they're finished unwrapping,

they want the next present,

they want the next cool thing.

That's how this world works.

And kids... What kids have become.

They're just like little junkies.

They're little shits. They just demand.

They don't believe.

They just want, crave, consume.

Maybe this is my last year.

The last Christmas.

Well, I can't stand seeing another Santa in distress.

Put his drinks on my tab.

- Okay? - Yeah.

Oh, very merry of you. Okay.

I better get going.

Presents aren't gonna deliver themselves.

For your grandson. Save me a trip.

It's, uh, that new video game.

It's Astro Blaster, Blaster Astro.

I-I don't know.

Merry Christmas.

How'd he know my grandson's name?

How'd he know I have a grandson? -

Oi! That door leads to the roof.

Piss head.

Go easy on him. It's Christmas.

Hey! You can't be up here.

If you break your neck, I'm the one...

My God.

It's...

beauti...

Hi. Hi, hi, hi.

There she is. Hello, muffin.

Let's go see Grandma.

Ooh.

Merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas, Trudy.

Merry...

Mwah, mwah, mwah, mwah, mwah!

Merry Christmas, Daddy, ya filthy animal.

She got to stay up late and watch Home Alone.

It was so funny.

- Yep. - That... that hurts.

- All morning. - Okay, um...

Thank you.

For doing this.

I'm not doing it for you.

- It's Christmas! - Yeah!

Merry Christmas, Al.

Hi, Linda. Merry Christmas.

- Mr. Lightstone. - Hey, Al.

Hey, you back there, Tru?

Yeah, I bet you're excited for Christmas.

What did you ask Santa for?

Not to work on Christmas Eve.

Must've been naughty this year,

'cause here I am.

Just make sure you let Santa through the gates later, Al.

- Yeah. - Have a merry one, now.

- Merry Christmas. - Merry Christmas, Al.

Merry Christmas, Tru.

- Thank you, Al. - Yeah.

I can't remember where the second one is.

Ho, ho, ho, ho.

Merry Christmas.

Hope you're on the nice list.

That doesn't go over there.

Excuse me.

What the hell is this?

You are the worst catering company on the planet.

It's lengthwise, not width.

Unbelievable.

Okay.

Hi. Hi, guys. Merry Christmas.

- Hi. - I'm fine. Thank you so much.

I'll never get over the fact that you grew up like this.

My therapist says I'll never get over it, either.

I need a drink.

Hey, look at that.

Hi, Linda.

- Hey. - How's it going, Alva?

Mm-hmm. You gained weight.

Looks good on you, though.

Thank you.

'Sup, limp dick?

I got great feelings about this Christmas.

- You want to know why? - Yeah.

'Cause I think this is the year

that Mom's gonna kick herself upstairs

and choose one of us to start running the show.

And I got to tell you, Jason, that I'm gunning for your ass.

What would a Lightstone family Christmas be

without groveling and infighting?

Your rosé, ma'am.

Honey, smile. It's Christmas.

Good. Good girl.

I am sorry about my sister.

It is really nice to see you.

To have you here.

Okay, I'm behind. Catch me up on all the hot goss.

Hot goss. Okay.

Um, well, you remember Bert, my sister's pride and joy.

Yo, yo, yo. This is the Bert Locker

living that bling life on Christmas Eve.

Hashtag "blessed."

He just got what I can only assume

will be his first of many sexual harassment accusations.

Mom paid off the school,

and now the gymnasium is named after us.

Of course she did.

What about Tragic Mike?

All I'm saying is,

if I was on one of those planes,

9/11 would've ended with a bunch of terrorists

skydiving over Connecticut without their parachutes.

- Yeah. You like that? - Yes. Yes.

- Yeah, I do like it. - Ooh.

- Kiss me in front of my son. - Now, huh?

He might actually be a decent actor.

He's been doing an Oscar-worthy job...

...of pretending to find my sister appealing.

Now he wants Mom to fund a film for him.

- It's Gertrude! - It's Mom.

- Okay, let's do this. - Okay, okay. Come on.

- Come on. Bert, get over here. - No. Mom. Mom!

- Positions. - Game time, buddy.

- Okay. Okay. - This is my good side.

I'm busy. We've gone over this! Come on!

Gosh. Okay.

Bert, get in the middle.

So it begins.

Seriously, come. You know what that means.

Shall we jockey forward?

No.

No, we can hang back.

Yeah.

Trudy, honey?

Come on over here.

Just, like...

Threaten 'em or bribe 'em.

This isn't rocket science.

Same shit we always do.

That's what?

That's the best you can do?

Excited to see your grandma?

Listen, you cocksucker.

It's Christmas, so why don't you take

your best offer, gift wrap it,

and ram it up your fucking box.

Maybe you don't realize who I am.

Those were Grandma words. You know, forget them.

Oh, boy. Look at Mr. Cool back here.

Yeah, what's your angle, man?

No angle. I'm not doing anything.

Oh, yeah.

No, no, no. No, no, no, no, no. No!

Don't shit in my mouth and tell me it's chocolate cake.

Grandma's cool.

I can make that story go away...

I think your brother's up to something.

No, I just decided to let you guys

have all the fun sucking up to Mom today.

Please. You are King Suck-up.

You named your kid Gertrude.

Alva, you named your son Bertrude.

Okay.

Sorry, Bert, but that's not a real name.

Sorry, Linda. We can't all be lucky enough to have daughters.

Mom, I can hear you.

You know something we don't. What is it?

No, I don't. I don't.

I got it. Bingo.

I'm onto you, man. Come on!

- We were just... - Come on,

come on, come on, come on.

- You big sack of shit. - Ooh.

No wonder your husband left you.

Merry Christmas to you, too, Senator.