- December 16, 2004 -

CLAIRE: It's already December 16th, Waiterbot! In just over a week, Team Evil will have successfully ruined Christmas!

WAITERBOT: Do not count your chickens before I eat them, master. A lot can happen in a week. I went from sharing a symbiotic relationship with a gutted robot so we could hold down a job as a sushi chef to your freaky mutant steroid slave in less time.

CLAIRE: I get what you're saying, but what could go wrong? We've already placed the bomb. Come Christmas Eve, Santa is history. Now stop raining on my parades and pretend to be really interested in whatever gift I'm about to get.

CLAIRE: What the fuck? Another cat statue? Fucking gods of Playmobil, man -- they're all fucking spinsters.

WAITERBOT: Master, wait! This isn't a statue -- it's a real cat! A kitten, actually!

CLAIRE: My order still stands. Incinerate it.

WAITERBOT: Are you sure? It's just a little baby!

CLAIRE: Piss on its ashes when you're done.

WAITERBOT: ...but it likes me!


KNACKS: Kuse, we're wasting too much time! Mare's gonna be really pissed off when she finds out that we haven't even started looking for Claire's wand yet.

KUSE: Ahhh, the poor ol' planning stage. Unappreciated, but still very crucial.

KNACKS: We have to sneak over to Claire's side of the Christmas Mansion and get that wand! It's our only hope!

KUSE: I know, I know. I'll figure out something, just give me a little more time.

MARE: What?! You two are still here?! Where's the wand?!

KNACKS: Kuse says he needs "a little more time."

MARE: Look, we don't have any time! Don't you realize what's happening? If Claire survives the holidays, the ancient blessed deity who rules over all Mare Winninghams will grant her amazing superpowers.

KUSE: That's what we're going so nuts about? Come on, it doesn't sound that bad.

MARE: Okay, for starters, she'll be able to fly, and I challenge you to stop at listing even fifty top things you wouldn't want her to drop on you. This is serious shit, you two. Besides, we have to save Random Jim!

KNACKS: Random Jim! It's amazing, I can't keep the guy in my head for longer than thirty seconds at a time!


CLAIRE: Did you dispense of the filthy animal?

WAITERBOT: I did, and I don't ever want to speak of it again, master.

CLAIRE: Fine. Now listen to my story -- I just Prince Albert in a Can'd some old schmuck down the road. I fucking love this phone.

CLAIRE: Hey! I wasn't done!

KNACKS: Shhhh...quiet footsteps, Kuse! QUI-ET.

KUSE: Perhaps now wasn't best the time to practice my patented impression of a horse galloping.

WAITERBOT: Lousy traitorous jerk! I can't believe I'm bound to that wench! I can't believe she tricked me! But no matter...come Christmas, I'll snap her neck in half when she least suspects it, take all of the presents for myself, and retire on the sun-drenched shores of someplace sun-drenched. I will have my revenge!

WAITERBOT: Drink up, little kitty. You and I have something in common. I too was once small and insignificant. Well, don't you worry, little kitty -- someday, I'll help you get big, too! Someday!