Silent Night Page #3

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Yeah, sure.

At Easter, I'm the Easter Bunny.

On Halloween, I'm Halloweener...

an Irish-Jewish ghost.

Days between, I'm Jim Epstein.

And can I call you Jim Epstein?

Well, you could if you wanted to ruin

the childhoods

of all those cute little brats

waiting in line, looking for reassurance

that they're gonna have lots and lots

of toys under the tree come tomorrow.

Oh, a cynical Santa... cute.

You're good.

I'm gonna have to keep an eye on you.

You're not from around here,

are you?

No, I'm from up north, a small town...

North Pole actually.

And Colorado.

- You move around a lot?

- What the hell is this?

Why the inquisition?

I have a permit.

Can I see it?

Well, it happens to be

in my journal,

because I'm a bit of

a passionate scrapbooker.

Mind if I take a look?

Knock yourself out.

For 10 bucks

you can sit on my lap too.

And we'll talk about

the first thing that pops up.

So what's the big issue?

We've been getting some complaints

about your behavior towards children.

Well, if you're talking about

that whiny little brat back there,

I stand by what I said.

I speak the truth.

So what do you want Santa

to bring you?

A pony? How about

a big f***ing box of reality?

- How about you tone the f*** down?

- Oh, yeah? Or what?

You can't revoke my permit.

It was issued by town hall.

It's conditional upon

your adherence to public decency.

Now I'm scared.

The big cop lady knows

the letter of the law.

So how come

you're not at home tonight,

by the fire with your hubby,

baking cookies?

What did you just say?

Base, patrol one.

Deputy Bradimore, come in.

Patrol one, over.

We got a call

from some carolers

about a bad smell coming from

that abandoned house on Watson.

It's probably a gas leak

or a dead raccoon.

You have to send Giles.

I'm with Santa.

Giles is busy.

Doing what?

Changing his maxi pad?

A missing persons' report for

Alana Roach. Her husband is here.

Something happen to her?

I think she left him

for Deputy Jordan.

- Where did you get that from?

- Gossip.

From who?

Seriously,

I never reveal my sources.

Brought you a newspaper.

Couldn't finish the sudoku.

Mom and Dad missed the flight,

so it's just me.

I guess it kind of sucks

being in here alone

on Christmas Eve?

Hell, you don't even know

what day it is.

Anyway.

I gotta go see Tiffany.

You remember

my groupie Tiffany, right?

I'm boning her

pretty regular now.

You'd better watch out, boy.

Christmas Eve is the scariest

damn night of the year.

Gramps, holy sh*t.

You're awake.

Let me go get someone.

You see Santa Claus tonight, boy,

you'd better run.

Run for your life.

My grandfather... he's awake.

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