LEGOTRON: He really is a beautiful baby, Mare. Looks like he took the best from both of you.
MARE: Thanks, Legotron. I really appreciate that.
MISTA SNOWMAN: You know this is the only time I've spoken so far during this year's calendar?
KUSE: Thanks, Mista Snowman. I really appreciate that.
MARE: Well Knacks...what do you think?!
KNACKS: He's cute, but what's with those pants?
KUSE: Who do you think he looks like more, me or Mare?
KNACKS: Actually, remember those little dwarf fuckers called "Tom Toms" on that old "Kung-Fu" Nintendo game? Your baby looks a lot like a Tom Tom.
MARE: It really means a lot to us that you're here. We're both so glad that you're happy again.
KNACKS: Well, I wouldn't say I'm "happy." I'm just not on suicide watch. For the moment.
MARE: Knacks, we have something really important to ask you.
KUSE: Yeah, Mare and I talked about it, and we'd be honored if you'd be our child's godfather. Ees an offer you canoli refuse!
MARE: Kuse, no, no no no, when we discussed this, you promised! No stupid impressions!
KNACKS: You want me to be the kid's goddaddy? What do I have to do?
KUSE: Nothing, really. Show up at his birthday parties with a gift that costs at least twenty dollars more than everyone else's gifts.
KNACKS: Okay I'm in. My resume needed a fourth bullet point anyway. Now it's gonna go: First bullet Christmas rescuer, second bullet blogging expert, third bullet helmet appraiser and fourth bullet godfather. Who wouldn't hire me?
LATER...
MARE: I still can't get over this. We're parents. We have a child. All we need is a two-headed dog and we'd be one of those nuclear families!
KUSE: Mare, we can't keep calling this thing "the baby," or "our child," or just "it." What are we going to name him?
MARE: I don't want to rush into it, Kuse! We have to pick the right name. There's a reason for all the poor souls running around this world named "Oscar" and "Henrietta." People are too impulsive!
KUSE: Fine, let's just sit here and watch him and see if any good names hit us.
MARE: Heh, he likes laundry detergent boxes! Just like his daddy!
KUSE: They're so vivid and vibrant and other words that start with a "v" that have positive connotations.
MARE: Why do we even have detergent, anyway? It's not like we own a washing machine.
KUSE: I bought it for the box!
BABY: goo goo gaga?
KUSE: Mare, it's settled. We're naming our child "Box."
MARE: Can you believe how much baby-related stuff the Advent Calendar is giving us this year? Having a kid would normally cost a fortune!
KUSE: I'm taking your non-response as an agreement that we are indeed naming our child "Box."
MARE: Fine, he's Box. Baby Box. Hey, what's that other thing in the gift box? There was more?
KUSE: Looks like a turtle shell. Let's assume it is.
MEANWHILE!
SANTA: LOOK at this place!
SANTA: Waiterbot, I left you in charge of the LEGO Advent Calendar! You were supposed to take good care of its gifts! Look at what you've done! You've been very, very naughty! Naughty! Naughty Waiterbot! It's coal time brother!
WAITERBOT: Santa, I told you -- some bad guys broke into the house, trashed the place and kidnapped my wife! This isn't my fault!
SANTA: It doesn't matter, Waiterbot! If you're in charge, it's your responsibility! If the locks on your door weren't strong enough, it's your fault! You cannot be absolved!
WAITERBOT: You know, you're not really taller than me. Hats and hair don't count. If we're going skull to skull, we're perfectly matched. Not perfectly matched like Paula Abdul and the Chester Cheetah knockoff, but perfectly matched like, uh, Tomax and Xamot.
SANTA: Waiterbot...ugh...you've left me no choice here...
SANTA: I'm afraid I have to revoke your LEGO Advent Calendar privileges. You are no longer charged with finding, opening and caring for its many gifts. I'll have to find someone else to finish the job.
WAITERBOT: Pish posh, like I really care. They were crappy gifts, anyway. Finding my wife is more important than sitting around here building traffic equipment. Come on, Doctor...we have work to do.
SANTA: I hope there are no hard feelings, old friend. I just have to look out for the calendar's best interests here.
WAITERBOT: Santa, you have your job, and I have mine.
LATER!
CHEF: Ay-a come-a here, Mr. Owl! I do be-a craving me finest owl meat-a dish! I will-a make-a it painless for-a you!
(ring ring ring!)
(ring ring ring!)
CHEF: Drats-a! Foiled again-a. I-a hate de telefono!
CHEF: Ciao me-a friendo! Thank-a you for calling Chef's Pizza-a. I will-a make-a you the best of the pies-a.
TIGERBOY: What? What? Is this the right number? Is Knacks home?
CHEF: Knacks-a, you say-a? What is this-a-bout? With-a whom do I-a speak?
TIGERBOY: Just tell Knacks it's Tigerboy! Tell him I need help with my new gig!
