Original subtitles

Well, no holiday humbugs here.

Not to curmudgeons and types.

Not a whiff of poop.

What movies you picked out for Christmas this year, Miss Katie's? We'll table

it. Yeah, let's put a pin in it for later.

I,

to the fucking... Love Christmas.

You know, I'm almost glad that it's already Christmas Eve and I don't have

hear you say that a baker's dozen times a day anymore.

Did all your presents wrap for Christmas there, good buddies?

Oh, yeah.

It's tradition, so, yeah.

Well, I'd have a beer. Katie, you have a beer? I'd have a beer. Dan, have a

beer? I'd have a beer. Wayne, have a beer? No! No beer.

Why? The party hasn't started yet. Christmas drinks only. It's tradition.

And... You don't box with tradition.

Especially on Christmas. Katie, where's the box?

Bit fucking gnar that we keep these bottles in this box here and only bring

out one time a year.

Well, there's good reason for it. I mean, who wants to drink?

Butter ripple schnapps. Well, whoever's having a nativity barn burner, like

that. And who wants to drink blue Caraco? Whoever's having a Mrs.

Clausmo, like that. And who wants to drink creme de menthe? Whoever's having

naughtier spite, like that.

I could whip up some Santagria.

Mix them all together for a good old jingle juice. No, jingle juice makes

No spittin'. We keep it classy till midnight for the main event.

Oh, no. American whiskey.

Oh, no. Irish whiskey. Canadian rye whiskey. I say, fuck! A shot of each at

midnight for the infamous three wise men. Everyone hammers one. Everyone

all three back to back to back at the stroke of midnight.

Encourages everyone to keep it classy till then.

To be fair.

To be fair.

To be fair.

This garbage assortment of drinks would encourage anyone to pace it. It's a bit

o 'clock if you're not careful.

Yeah, it's kind of a tough party to only have one bathroom spare. I guess that's

not as much as the dog does.

Do you know what? Is there any talk of this maybe being the best Christmas

ever?

Yeah, no.

I may have heard a bit of talking about that. You've been hearing a little bit

about, maybe it's a little bit of bad gas traveling a little bit fast in a

like this.

Well, I've been hearing that peoples are a -talkin', and talkins' are a -people.

Well, pitter -patter, let's get advent.

Err.

Get over him!

I'm tickled you thought of me. Proving it's the thought that counts.

A disposable camera.

Mm -hmm.

Every good party ought to have one, I think. You know, getting photos

after the fact is always fun because you don't know what you're going to get.

Like reaching into a treat bag blind.

Could be a sour key or could be a sweet tart.

Thank you, Wayne. You're welcome, Bonnie.

Maybe I could be your little helper elf tonight? Well, you're conveniently

dressed for the part, but I'm not Santa Claus, so I'll respectfully decline.

Let me know if you change your mind. I will.

Good enough. Let's break the seal. Okie doke.

Say, Bonnie, you hear in any talk of this maybe being the best Christmas

ever?

Christmas

toast

and three wise men at midnight.

Keep it classy till then.

I guess that's as much as the dog does.

I hate to mistletake this opportunity, Stuart, but I believe this is the

mistletoe. Oh, no.

Merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas, Colch.

You got me a present?

Oh, yeah.

It's traditional.

Oh.

A chimney cleaning log. Now, you'll want to burn that every 60 fires or so. It

reduces your creosote buildup by 70%, and creosote's what causes chimney

so you'll want to nip that in the bud, fuck.

Kind of reminds me of my late wife, Barb.

We had a Christmas tradition ourselves.

My lover and I would spend Christmas Eve together, as lovers do.

We would make love for hours in front of the fire.

Well, there you go.

I haven't been touched by a lover since my late wife Barb died.

And I admit the touch of a lover.

To be honest, it's hard to find a good lover.

Well, I'm sure you'll find another person.

Barb was a tremendous lover.

She used to say that the best part about my body was my legs.

To be honest, the best part about her was her legs, too.

Well, sounds like she was a wonderful woman.

Big hit.

Sir? You never noticed?

Nope. You never noticed Barb's knock? No.

I would lay her down at night and I was like, knock, knock.

Who's there?

Big old boner in my underwear.

She could make an ocean -fearing man go bolting.

Well, folks love bolting, so... She used to take my member in her.

Tiny little fingers.

I just rolled it so gently, like she was holding a soft cinnamon twist.

You know, just getting it ready for the oven.

Yep, well, that's where those go.

And then when the moment was right, I'd enter her.

Bonnie! We'd thrust against each other. You know, the sound of waves on a

freshwater lake just lapping against the shore.

We'd sing.

Christmas lover, I'm inside her.

Can you feel it?

Can you smell it? Hold on together.

Let's come on in here. We'll jump in the photo real quick. Here.

Christmas lover.

Bonnie, hurry now.

Good and you? Oh, not so bad. Listen, I'm thinking I might need a helper elf

after all.

Mind if I take you up late on your offer? I've been waiting for you to take

up late for years, Wayne.

Tana!

Did I miss the jingle juice again?

Okay, looks like some pissing outside again, just as God's intended.

Don't forget the Christmas toast from Three Wise Men's at Midnight's. Fuck and

paint yourselves.

Take care now.

Hey, Tam, have you heard any talk about this maybe being the, uh... The, uh,

salliest Christmas party ever?

It's festive.

You know what the kids are calling it these days?

Merry Christmas.

You call me a gift?

It's tradition, so, yeah.

What is it?

Open it.

I can't. My nails aren't dry. Serious?

Good enough.

What's that?

An apron. Yeah, I can see it's an apron.

Okay. Why would you buy a woman an apron?

Oh, I thought it was clever.

The text.

What do I look like, my duda?

I've not had the pleasure.

What was the runner -up to that, vacuum cleaner bags or something?

Oven mitts. Oven mitts? Yes, they said hot stuff coming through.

Might as well just said get in the kitchen and cook my dinner, woman. Well,

that's not clever.

The text.

You know you're sending a really chauvinistic message, bud.

Well, it's not what I meant.

What'd you mean then? Not to say you're a good fucking cook.

But you don't like dudes hanging out around your grill while you're cooking,

I thought it was clever.

The text.

Fuck.

Done being a cow now, or?

Yeah.

I'm sorry, boo.

I just...

I'm a little sensitive sometimes.

It's all right. Everybody's a little bit sensitive these days. Fuck. I know,

right? So fucking gay.

So, is there any

strings attached to this apron?

Almost certainly.

Too bad.

Say cheese.

Merry Christmas, Tana.

Next.

Hey, why don't we watch a classic? Rudolph the Red -Nosed Reindeer circa

No!

Santa was such a dick in that movie. He's a racist dick, which I, sir, have

time for.

Did you just call Santa a racist?

The landscape's not the only thing whitewashed at the North Pole.

Yeah, and then Santa tells Rudolph that his nose makes him sick, and then makes

him cover it up.

Clear sign of prejudice, Katie.

Guys, it was a different time. You know, it was made in the 60s. Right, Coach?

How old do you think I am? How long can society keep making that excuse, Katie?

Yeah, and the mental abuse. Physical, too. One is rarely far from the other.

And then Santa has the timbits to ask Rudolph to guide him around the whole

world to every fucking house?

Rudolph got to guide Santa's sleigh. I mean, that's all he ever wanted. That's

all he wanted, Katie!

What else did he want?

Uh, reparations.

You know what bugged me most about that movie? It's that the owl's biggest dream

was to become a dentist.

Not a race car driver, not an astronaut, but a dentist.

Pull your finger or your ass, fucking owl.

Highest suicide rate of any profession.

Christmas cheer just hitting a real fever pitch now.

Gail!

Merry Christmas, Gaylord. What's in your jeans, bud?

Good.

Got me a present? Uh -uh. Nope, nope. Pretty simple.

Nope.

Uncle Eddie.

Good guy, eh? He's a great guy.

I figured you could hang that behind the bar.

Uncle Eddie.

You know what? He's not your uncle, so I don't know. Maybe you'd stop saying

that on account of you taking him down once, you know? I lied.

It was more than once. Oh, Jesus.

Jericho fetish ain't nothing to be ashamed of, Wayne.

Young is fun, but old is bold.

Face like an old road map?

Didn't mind those dentures either.

Wish I could pop mine out like that for a handful of raisins.

Oh, bother.

Uncle Eddie. He's not your uncle.

I was on his naughty list his last year, and he spanked me with his cane like

the bad niece that I am. Christ's sake, Gail, he's not your way.

Was that part of the whole... Never mind. Bonnie!

Me.

Midnight Peppet.

Want to give it a toot?

No.

Want to give it a toot -toot? That'll do, Glenn.

Wayne, you're wasting those lips which are made for didging. God gave them to

you. Have a toot.

Glenn! Wayne! What?

Be honest about something.

You should always be honest.

I'm a little bit sad.

Uh -oh. What happened was I had a sermon all cooked up for tonight, but then the

church elders went ahead and voted to have a guest minister come in instead of

me. Who is it, that Reverend Bolio?

Yeah, Reverend Bolio. Yeah, that's him.

He's a good guy. He's all right.

Wayne, we are gathered here today in the presence of Christ.

And look at this place. Look at what you have done.

All the invitations, the decorations.

It's very festive. That's what I said. I said it's festive.

Is that what the kids are calling it these days?

Thanks so much for the gift, boo. Sorry I was being a cow.

Wayne, Christmas is not in the presents.

It's in his presents.

Oh, that's clever. Yeah, right? He'd like to see Webber and Bowyer come up

anything that good.

Information.

Christ is the only gift. The only gift? The only gift.

You don't want this gift?

Oh, my Lord, is that a gift for me? Oh, it's a traditional song.

Oh, it's Glenn.

That's me. That's so nice. And then it says, Dear Glenn. No, nothing. In fact,

that's fine, too.

You don't have to write a personal message or anything.

That's the nicest part, usually. That's what my mom always said. The nice part

is the card. Always write a nice little card for people.

Because, you know, anyone can buy a gift. Not everyone can write their

down on a card and be all sweet.

A pitch pot. For you and your band.

The salty treat.

Kate? We broke up.

What happened?

Ever heard those stories about Fleetwood Mac and how they'd...

Blow cocaine up each other's poopers with a straw?

No. Oh.

Were yous doing that, or?

I don't know.

No, we weren't.

One of the treats ended up with another one of the treats of the sweetie, and

they stuffed each other's stockings, so we're all done.

Well, there you go.

And Wayne, you're adorable, but why would you give me a pitch pipe of all

people? Me, who was blessed by the Lord himself with perfect pitch to aid in the

delivery of his message.

Listen.

Meh.

Meh.

Meh.

Oh.

Oh. Spirit of Christmas, it's now inside of me, Wayne.

Oh, can we celebrate with a song?

No. What about up a song?

No, thank you. A hymn for him?

Glenn, why don't we just do a photo and we can keep this rig rolling?

Okay. I don't mind that either. Just let me get into proper Hannah and the elf

position here. Oh, that's it. Oh, that's not going. Make sure the dig is in.

Next.

Hey, baby.

Hey, bro.

What's up, baby?

Having a spit?

You?

I was going to have a spit.

I don't even know what your fucking names are, but if you're a hockey

get in here.

I'm spitting a little bit.

Merry Christmas.

Yeah, that's the present.

Oh, yeah.

That's traditional.

Thanks, buddy.

Thanks, bro. You're welcome.

Winning a ship brings pride and togetherness to a community. Now, you've

made us damn proud with your work with the Shamrockettes, and this is so you'll

never forget it.

So Merry Christmas.

Yep, and Happy New Year.

Jesus Christ. Bonnie!

Oh, Bonnie McMurray.

I'll just jump in for a photo here. We'll keep this rig rolling.

It's good or?

Pretty.

Still good.

Yeah? Yeah, still thick, bro.

Oh, there you go.

You want to know why, Betty?

You want to know what I don't know?

All the college and uni girls are home for Christmas break.

Letterkenny Tinder game is fuego.

A lot of girls go away to school with big expectations of fun and romance, but

that doesn't always pan out.

Who's tough, bro?

The comfort of their hometowns along behind them.

Finding your place in the world can be tough.

But when they come home for Christmas break and big expectations with school

the big city behind them, they realize, hey, Betty Kenny's actually pretty sick.

And then we have sex with them. And that's when the takedowns begin.

This afternoon, this snipe called me up who was really rude to me before, but

this time, she was really nice.

Did you take her down?

I did.

She this time called me up today and she used to say, I hate hockey players. I

hate them.

I felt the love today.

It's really special.

When you took her down?

Yes. It's really special when I took her down.

Nice. Thanks.

Okay, get the fuck out of here.

Okay. Home Alone. It's practically the perfect Christmas movie.

That's a strong choice. I show it to my players regularly.

You do? Yeah, it's a moving meditation on pain.

Home Alone?

Yeah, those two burglars should have been killed a hundred times in that

Right off the bat, the icy stairs Mark flips on, bam, that's a shattered spine.

Or at his age, at least a slipped disc.

But no, he gets up and walks around like he's just got a couple broken ribs,

right? And then Harry walks in, boom, shot in the balls with a pellet gun, and

then his head is lit on fire, right? Any other snowflake would be on the phone

with 911 going, hey, I got my head, my head's on fire. But no, Harvey kept

going. You know why?

Because it's a fictional children's Christmas movie?

No, because that movie is an expose on mind over matter.

Harry and Marv were mentally strong, all right? They had a goal. They fought

through adversity to get to it. Now, they never really got it, but I'm

my breath for part five because Marv and Harry deserve it.

A projectile can of...

Paint being thrown down a full flight of steps and hitting you directly in the

head would shatter your skull, killing you instantly.

Obviously fake.

Okay, we need to have a conversation on suspension of disbelief in fictional

children's Christmas movies. And don't even get me started on part two.

Marv gets shot in the dick with a nail gun and then up the ass with it. Next

scene, not even a lip. Like, you think we're stupid?

It's a dark movie. I agree, Derry.

Oh, come on.

What in the McAllister's house had any true value?

Did you see what they were stealing from the neighbor's house?

Cutlery, candlesticks.

They weren't going after the big get. It was never about the big skits.

Harry and Marv hate themselves.

That's why they kept going into the house.

Volunteering for pain.

Gladden's for punishments. Very real, very serious.

Mental disorders.

And a treatable ones, too. Of course, the first step being he got to ask for

help. And for many people, that's the hardest step.

You're saying they subconsciously wanted to die.

On account of their traumatic childhood, most likely.

That's why they hated Kevin McAllister so much. Because of his privilege.

Which I, terror, have no time for.

Harry and Marv are probably stills out there as to these.

Sufferings and silence. Harry and Marv are in Vegas with tits in both hands and

an ass in the other. They're champions.

Okay. They're London Bridge and Victoria's Secret models on a beach in

Okay.

What about the Santa Claus?

The Tim Allen movie?

Yeah. What, whoever puts on Santa's suit becomes Santa?

What if Santa died on Paul Bernardo's roof? Bernardo puts on Santa's suit,

henceforth becoming a serial killer, which I... I would watch that movie.

Henceforth making Carla Homolka Mrs. Clausen. What then?

We stop saying henceforth?

John Wayne Gacy's roof.

He already dressed up in a clown costume to lure his victims in.

He could pull off Santa in his sleep.

Child's play.

Jeffrey Dahmer, now Santa Claus kills and eats his victims.

Good!

We don't celebrate consumers' Christmas on principle. Shut the fuck up. It's

Christmas. I sure have no time for... What if it's drugs?

You shouldn't have.

Oh, Wayne!

Okay.

Wondrous.

Hallucinogens? Perpetuates?

D. D.

Vitamin D. Your pasty skin tells me you don't see enough sunlight, which can

lead to vitamin D deficiency.

You ever had it?

Um... Trust me.

You don't want it. We will not participate in your capitalist

-pay rituals.

I, Bonnie, have no time for.

Thank you, Bonnie.

You would wonder what it is.

We're going to open it carefully so we can use the ribbons against next year's.

Good thinking, Squirrely D. If you can be one thing, you should be efficient.

Waste nuts want nuts, you know.

Pretty smart pencil case, eh?

That's for your women's studies class.

You've been reading my mail. Nope, just seeing you skipping off to class every

Tuesday with a pen, pencil, and highlighter wrapped in a rubber band.

You know, there's no reason to be looking pawed for Professor Trisha.

Thanks, good buddies. Merry Christmas, good buddy.

Cologne? Why don't you use sunscreen?

Banana boat? Well, here's the scoop, and I'm going to tell you. Banana boat's

not going to do the trick with you wearing your barn clothes every damn

you go. Now, when you head into town, you give yourself a few spritzes of

It'll mask the smell proper.

Thanks, good buddy. Of course.

Not wearing your barn clothes every damn place you go is also a potentially

fruitful option.

English on the back.

The Reindeer Effect.

Bootleg Korean Christmas thriller sent from overseas by my good buddy Teddy

That's exclusive for your collection.

Has anyone seen The Reindeer Effect?

The Butterfly Effect?

No, The Reindeer Effect.

I've never heard of it.

Reindeer Games with Charlize Theron?

Dennis Farina?

Ben Affleck?

Yes, please.

No, The Reindeer Effect.

Ever seen it, bro? Never seen it, bro.

Put it on.

Yeah, put it on.

Thanks for the gift, big brother. Well, now that that's sorted, have you been

hearing any talk around town about this maybe being the

best Christmas party ever?

Well,

if it wasn't before, it sure is now.

Now, we honor the tradition of the three wise men.

Oh no, American whiskey. Oh no, Irish whiskey. Canadian rye whiskey. It's a

fucking A!

You just want to know what Christmas is all about? Christmas is all about... I'm

going to tell you what Christmas is all about here.

Christmas is all about coming together with friends and family and putting your

squabbles aside for a little wee bit. Oh.

And that, friends and family, is why I... For the fucking... Last time,

Last fucking time, fuck.

Love Christmas.

Hear, hear.

Three whys. Three whys. Three whys.

Okay.

Now, let's all have a fit.