- December 4, 2004 -
 MARE: Go ahead, Kuse! It's your turn! KUSE: It's about fucking time! This box better have something good... KNACKS: Oh, Kuse. It's not about what's in the box. It's about someone caring enough to give it to you. KUSE: Okay, number one, shut up. And number two, I just opened it. Give me twenty bucks to make up for how shitty this gift is. KNACKS: Shitty? What's inside?  KUSE: A sick joke, that's what's inside. It's a picture of my old dog who got run over when I was seven. Which one of you did this? Is this supposed to be funny? MARE: Kuse, what comes inside the gift boxes isn't up to us. The gods of Playmobil take care of that. Actually, I think it's kind of sweet. The holidays are all about memories. KUSE: Oh yeah? Fine. Why don't you tell us that story from last year -- the one where you killed Mista Snowman and told Santa Claus to fuck off? MARE: I meant selective memories.  MARE: A little more to the left! KUSE: I can't believe you guys are doing this. Do you realize how painful it is for me to look at that picture? I held the bleeding pup in my arms, its leg attached by a mere single tendon. This is so completely opposite from joyful. KNACKS: Mare, Kuse isn't tall enough for me to reach any further. KUSE: I'm not tall enough? What about you? KNACKS: Mare, Kuse is "a little short for a stormtrooper." MARE: Really? That's interesting. Hey, I have a problem. "I can't put my arms down!" KUSE: Okay, one more movie quote and you're both getting knifed. |
