SANTA: Dammit! How come you can’t see the Northern Lights anymore? I mean, we’re as far fucking north as you can get!
SEYMOUR: Too much light pollution, Santa. Even at the North Pole, the sky isn’t as dark as it used to be.
SANTA: Grumble. Hmmmmmm…..
SEYMOUR: Ooooooooooooh!!!!! Pretty!!!!!
SANTA: Now that’s a Christmas light show!
SCRAT THE RED NOSED SQUIRRELDEER: (muted) SQUEEEEEEEEEEALLLLLL!!!!
SANTA: Now I can read letters by the light of the aurora borealis again!
FUZZYWIG: Ummmm…. so where do I put my mouth? I hope not (pointing down)…. there.
HUNG LO: Good morning, child! I have been summoned by the Fat Man himself to deliver your gift! Check this out!
FUZZYWIG: Dude, keep it down! The Narcs are listening! So, where’s my new bong I asked for?
HUNG LO: Hung Lo asked to deliver new GONG to this address.
FUZZYWIG: Listen here, Wang…
HUNG LO: Isn’t this gong good stuff?
FUZZYWIG: That is not the good stuff, man. I may have been high when I wrote my letter, but I’m pretty sure…
FUZZYWIG: …I specified….
FUZZYWIG: …. with a B!
FUZZYWIG: Wonderful. Now I have more headache than I have MARIHUANA to mellow it out. 4:20 can’t come soon enough…
HUNG LO: Shall I alert you when it is that time?
Oh it simply doesn’t pay to write your letter to Santa when you’re – uh – well – somewhat mentally hampered by the good stuff. Bong, Gong, King Kong….maybe Fuzzywig ought to be glad Santa didn’t deliver a big huge ape.
Hmmmmmm, there’s still three days left. Someone might get a damn dirty ape!
Bong…gong…when you’re under the influence, the first thing to go could be the ability to speak (or hear). Maybe Hung Lo is impersonating the ‘4:20 condition.’
Bang the gong too much, and you probably won’t be able to hear anything anymore…
I think I’ll just leave brownies for Santa, unless the squirrels in the chimney come get them first.
The squirrels will be fun to watch if they eat all the “special” brownies…
I guess we better draw Santa a picture of what we want, I want a mororized mouse….not a house!
I wouldn’t mind asking for a million dollars and having Santa accidentally bring a Billion dollars instead…
I can’t help thinking that Santa deliberately misunderstood poor Fuzzywig’s request. Shelf Santa’s quite the trickster…
Malicious compliance par excellence
Just part of that “selective hearing” trait so many old folks have. After doing this series, I realize I would love to have Santa’s job of fulfilling requests with something blatantly annoying…
Awww, poor Fuzzywig. Maybe he can get Hung Lo to whip him up some marihuana fortune cookies or something.
That would take care of the munchies as well. And you’d be too stoned to understand your bad luck fortune…