How the Grinch Stole Christmas Page #6

Now you're doomed!

Run for your life before I kill again!

I'm a psycho!

Danger! Danger!

Maybe you need a time-out.

Kids today.

So desensitized by movies and television.

What do you want?!

Mr. Grinch, I came to invite you to be holiday cheer-meister.

"Holiday Whobie-what-y"?

Cheer-meister.

"Cheer-meister. Celebrate with friends."

That's a good one.

Cindy Lou:
[follows him] I know you hate Christmas, but what if it's all just a misunderstanding?

Grinch:
Don't care.

Cindy Lou:
I mean, I myself am having some Yuletide doubts.

[The Grinch pretends to snore]

Cindy Lou:
But maybe if you reunite with the Whos and be a part of Christmas...

Grinch:
[mimics Cindy in a nasally voice] "Maybe if you reunite with the Whos and be a part of Christmas." [normal voice] Grow up!

Cindy Lou:
Then maybe it'll be alright for me, too!

Grinch:
I'm sorry, your session is over. Please make another appointment with the receptionist on the way out.

Please, please. You have to accept the award.

Award?

You never mentioned an award!

Yeah, with a trophy and everything.

And I won?

You won!

That means there were losers.

I guess.

So, if you come...

A town full of losers!

I like it.

Was anyone emotionally shattered?

Come on, a minute ago I couldn't shut you up! Details, details!

The Mayor wasn't happy.

Oh, no.

Martha May will be there.

She will?

And she'll see me.

A winner.

She'll be on me like fleegle flies on a flat-faced floogle horse.

I'm sorry to disappoint you, Martha, baby, but the G train has left the station.

So, will you come?

All right.

I don't know if it's that adorable twinkle in your eye or that nonconformist streak that reminds me of a younger, less hairy me.

But you've convinced me.

Who knows? This Whobilation could change my entire outlook on life!

Really?

No.

There you are, honey.

You can make snow angels later.

We can't be late for the Whobilation!

The nerve of those Whos.

Inviting me down there on such short notice.

Even if I wanted to go, my schedule wouldn't allow it.

"4:
00, wallow in self-pity. "4:30, stare into the abyss. "5:00, solve world hunger tell no one. "5:30, jazzercise. "6:30, dinner with me."

I can't cancel that again.

"7:
00, wrestle with my self-loathing."

I'm booked.

If I bumped the loathing to 9:00, I'd have time to lay in bed stare at the ceiling and slip slowly into madness.

But what would I wear?

It's not a dress, it's a kilt!

Sicko!

Stupid.

Ugly.

Out of date.

This is ridiculous.

If I can't find something nice to wear, I'm not going!

That's it, I'm not going.

It's time for our Holiday Cheer-meister of the Year Award!

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