National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation
Hey. If any of you are looking for any last-minute gift ideas for me, I have one.
I’d like Frank Shirley, my boss, right here tonight…
I want him brought from his happy holiday slumber over there on Melody Lane with all the other rich people, and I want him brought right here. With a big ribbon on his head!
And I want to look him straight in the eye and I want to tell him what a cheap, lying, no-good, rotten, fore-fleshing, low-life, snake-licking, dirt-eating, inbred, overstuffed, ignorant, blood-sucking, dog-kissing, brainless, d**kless, hopeless, heartless, fat-**s, bug-eyed, stiff-legged, spotty-lipped, worm-headed sack of monkey s**t he is.
HALLELUJAH! …HOLY S**T!
…Where’s the Tylenol?
Where do you think you’re going? Nobody’s leaving!
Nobody’s walking out on this fun, old-fashioned family Christmas. No, no! We’re all in this together! This is a full-blown, four-alarm holiday emergency here.
We’re gonna press on, and we’re gonna have the hap, hap, happiest Christmas since Bing Crosby tap-danced with Danny f**king Kaye. And when Santa squeezes his fat white **s down that chimney tonight, he’s gonna find the jolliest bunch of **sholes this side of the nuthouse!