LEGOTRON: You know Box, your mom's pretty hot, but she makes a lot of lousy decisions.
BOX: What's the big deal? There's no way he can break out of there.
LEGOTRON: Maybe, but why take chances? We should've killed Santa-X last year. Why are we letting him live?
BOX: I guess my mother hopes that we can exhange him for Waiterbetty and Doctor.
LEGOTRON: Yeah, if they aren't already dead.
LEGOTRON: We should kill this guy right now, Box. We totally could if we wanted to.
BOX: Nah. It's wrong to kill a Santa Claus. Even a charred, resurrected one who blights Christianity with feverish demon worship.
LEGOTRON: Can we at least throw rocks at him?
BOX: Oh, absolutely.
MEANWHILE...
WAITERBOT: This is an insult!
WAITERBOT: What is wrong with these LEGO Advent Calendars? Why are the gifts always so indecipherable and without merit?
JAMES LIPTON: You Playmobil gifts are spoiled brats! As soon as you come across anything that takes a little effort to understand, you disregard it and run!
WAITERBOT: How DARE you call me a Playmobil gift! I merely commandeer the body of a Playmobil gift...I am not one myself!
JAMES LIPTON: I heard differently.
JAMES LIPTON: Hey, maybe this is the problem? You don't have that thing in right position. Turn it on its side, like the picture shows.
JAMES LIPTON: Holy shit it's 100% better!
WAITERBOT: What?! This is even worse! Now it looks broken! Nobody will have any idea what it's supposed to be, but they will still think it is broken!
JAMES LIPTON: Waiterbot, can't you see? The seven wonders of the world have just become eight!
MEANWHILE...
CHER: Branches?
KNACKS: Apparently, yeah. Today's gift is a dead tree.
CHER: I really don't understand why it's our job to open Advent Calendar presents.
KNACKS: Either do I.
CHER: Do you think the dead tree is maybe made of solid milk chocolate?
KNACKS: Nah. You can only get Advent Calendars with chocolate gifts inside at dollar stores and ethnic pawn shops.
MARE: Tigerboy, that thing you keep doing, where you approach people and reconstruct a benign observation into a non-rhetorical question...it has to stop.
TIGERBOY: Sorry.
MARE: Anyway, no, I'm trying to find something to buy Kuse for Christmas. He really needs cheering up.
TIGERBOY: I thought Kuse was Jewish?
MARE: I just told you to stop doing that thing you keep doing, Tigerboy.
TIGERBOY: Sorry.
TIGERBOY: Maybe buy him a nice pair of running sneakers?
MARE: Running sneakers aren't romantic enough. I'm his wife, not some pushy uncle trying to vicariously reclaim the lost glories of my sports-filled youth.
TIGERBOY: What does that mean?
MARE: I don't know. I'm pretty stoned.
MISTA SNOWMAN: Are you guys shopping for Kuse???
TIGERBOY: I'm not, Mare is. Hesitate to ask, but do you have any idea what she should get for him?
MISTA SNOWMAN: It just so happens that I do!
SLEIGH BELLZZZ
MEANWHILE...
SANTA-X: You aren't seriously just going to sit there and let me rot, are you? We used to be pals!
HSSXXLLLO: Well, we're not anymore. I'm just here to make sure nobody sets you free.
SANTA-X: Rabbit, don't be a fool! Switch back to the winning team, while Hare might still let you!
HSSXXLLLO: I made my choice. I'm one of the good guys now.
SANTA-X: You'll pay for that mistake with your life, Hssxxlllo. You remember what happened last summer. You must realize that Hare and Claire couldn't have pulled that off alone.
HSSXXLLLO: Do you have something you're trying to tell me, Santa-X?
SANTA-X: Maybe. Let me out and I'll tell you.
MEANWHILE...
MAN EATING CHICKEN: I really enjoy chicken. It's fantastic stuff.
MAN EATING CHICKEN: Hey, you there...I have a question.
MAN EATING CHICKEN: Do my shirt pockets look like lady robot eyes to you?
MAN EATING CHICKEN: Do they?
MAN EATING CHICKEN: ....
MAN EATING CHICKEN: Well now you can't have any chicken.
LATER!
KNACKS: A ha! Now it's starting to make sense!
KNACKS: Today's gift connects to yesterday's gift! We're not building a putting green...we're building a forest!
CHER: Okay, but why?
KNACKS: We're combating global warming! The Advent Calendar has gone green!
WAITERBOT: Pathetic! Your presents are pathetic!
WAITERBOT: Grass and a dead tree? What kinds of presents are those?
KNACKS: Ugh, when did you get home?
WAITERBOT: Pathetic!
WAITERBOT: But I suppose pathetic gifts are well-suited to one as pathetic as yourself.
KNACKS: Yeah, well, it doesn't look like you guys found anything better over in LEGO land.
WAITERBOT: What, you mean this? We didn't get this from our Advent Calendar! This is just scrap metal I found on the way home...I need it for one of my many projects!
KNACKS: You're a bad liar, and that's a horrible gift.
WAITERBOT: I am not a liar and this is a great gift!
WAITERBOT: Ah, and I see that you're still trolling about with my former concubine attached at the hip.
CHER: I was never your "concubine," Waiterbot. Don't be such a sick bastard.
WAITERBOT: Ha! You used to love that about me!
MEANWHILE...
INSIDE A LION'S BRAIN: "Bones? They're feeding me bones?! This isn't dinner!"
INSIDE A LION'S BRAIN: "If only I could speak. Then they would know of my dissatisfaction. Perhaps Santa will grant me the power of speech for Christmas."
INSIDE A LION'S BRAIN: "Hey, what a second...what is that at the top of the tent?"
