- 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.