Bad Santa Page #2

for popping

way down low

Let it snow, let it snow

Jesus Christ!

Can you maybe keep it together|for just 10 minutes?

Harrison, just let me explain,|please. Financially --

Well, you get what you paid for,|Chipeska.

Five Christmases I've been here.

You flip me for some stranger|who'll do it for peanuts

and who happens to work|with a real midget.

Nobody cares.|Nobody comes here for the elf.

Santa's the attraction.

I do Burl lves songs.

Does this schmo|even play guitar?

Look, Harrison, it's not about|the money or the midget.

Believe me, if it was, I --

I don't think they like|"midget."

I think you're supposed to|call them...

Oh, just forget it.

Hacks!

Hi.

Bob Chipeska.|Welcome.

Great photo and rsum,|by the way.

Thanks.

We've been at this|a long time and all.

We'd like to think we do|a good job.

I'm so glad you guys could|come in on such short notice.

I must say,|your look is just sensational.

Thanks.

We've been at this for years.|You got nothing to worry about.

You two are the best men|for this job, truly.

So don't let his unpleasantness|affect your performance.

-Oh, no. We're fine.|-Performance?

Yes. Uh, your performance.|You know, the, um...

Performance, like sexual?

-Excuse me?|-Willie.

Are you saying there's|something wrong with my gear?

Is that what you're saying?

-I'm sorry. Your gear?|-Willie.

My f*** stick.

Hey, Willie.|Take a seat.

You know how|your blood sugar is.

He's not going to say "f***|stick" in front of the children?

No, no, no.|It's a joke.

An adult joke for us adults.

It's a joke.|Just a joke.

"F*** stick"?

Yes. I thought it was|very strange, too.

So, as our security chief,

I wanted you to be aware.

But his little friend promised|he wouldn't say it

in front of the children,|which is fine.

Because, you know,|there is an adult world

and a child's world,|and that's okay.

I'm no censor.

"Little friend"?

Yes, he happens to be a dwarf.

Or midget.

I don't know|what he's called exactly.

But, uh, he's a little guy.

Little Billy Barty.|God rest.

But thin fingers.

Not the fat sausage fingers.

"Little people."|That's what they like.

Yes. Uh, right.|Little people.

So "f*** stick."|That's it?

Yeah.

Merry Christmas!|Santa's coming. Yay!

Merry Christmas!|Santa's coming. Yay!

Merry Christmas!

Have you seen that new Santa|they just hired?

Yeah.|He's back there drunk.

He's coming, guys.|Santa will be here real soon.

God damn it!

What the f*** you doing?|You blow this, and we're broke.

So stop acting|like you know something.

'Cause, pal of mine,|you don't know squat!

Now, put on your hat|and get out there.

And try to act professional,|for Christ's sakes.

What do you want?

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