SANTA: You HAVE to be kidding me! Another whole day just to get back with yesterday's gift?!
MISTA SNOWMAN: Jeez, Santa. You sure do like to yell a lot.
SANTA: Snowman, this is the last straw!
MISTA SNOWMAN: Look, Santa! Horse grooming tools! What color should we make Horsey?
SANTA: Mista Snowman, I want you to listen to me very carefully.
MISTA SNOWMAN: Wait a second, I think I forgot something. I know there were more of these comb things. There were at least three comb things and now I only have two!
SANTA: Mista Snowman, please!
MISTA SNOWMAN: I'm going to have the best looking horse on the planet! There must be some way to monetize that.
SANTA: Mista Snowman, am I invisible? Seriously, am I? Can you not hear a word I say?
MISTA SNOWMAN: I wonder what's on the radio. I bet it's something with bells and bird chirps!
MISTA SNOWMAN GOD DAMN IT
MISTA SNOWMAN: What's the matter, Santa?
SANTA: What's the matter?! Oh, where do I begin? So far, you've yelled about carrots, sent a horse to the Advent Calendar, opened gifts out of order, and apparently, you even lost a comb thing! AND you're taking whole extra days just to travel to and fro!
MISTA SNOWMAN: I never said I was perfect.
SANTA: Well, I've had enough. I called Mare and Kuse and told them to send someone new over. I can't let the Advent Calendar go to shit like this.
MISTA SNOWMAN: WHAT! How could you do this to me?! It isn't right!
SANTA: Nothing personal, it's just business. Besides, I'm not firing you. I'm just bringing in some extra help.
MISTA SNOWMAN: But I was doing such a good job! SNOWY TREES, Santa!
SANTA: Snowy trees aren't enough, Mista Snowman.
MISTA SNOWMAN: They are too!
MISTA SNOWMAN: This is supposed to be my year! My Advent Calendar!
SANTA: You'll just have to deal with it. I've made my decision, and there's no going back now.
MISTA SNOWMAN: Why not? Just call Mare and tell her not to send anybody! Problem solved!
SANTA: It's a little late for that, Mista Snowman.
MISTA SNOWMAN: What do you mean?
MISTA SNOWMAN: Waiterbot, go home! I'm doing just fine on my own!
WAITERBOT: That isn't what I've been hearing, you worthless spittoon of pigeon phlegm. From what I've heard, you're running the Advent Calendar into the ground!
MISTA SNOWMAN: So why do YOU care? You hate the Advent Calendar! You complain about it every year!
WAITERBOT: Santa's paying me. Handsomely.
WAITERBOT: But I see that he continues to pay you in ugly sticks. You are IMPOSSIBLE to look at without feeling disgusted!
WAITERBOT: Santa, I demand a raise! If I must spend the remainder of December vomiting into buckets over the sight of this putrid pile of oidiomycosis discharge, I'll need bigger bucks!
MISTA SNOWMAN: Waiterbot, go home! Go home go home GO HOME!
SANTA: Okay boys, let's settle down. Here's how it's gonna be. You're both in charge. Equal footing. You will run the Advent Calendar together, and you will treat each other with respect!
WAITERBOT: Oh is that so? Tell me, Snowman...is treating each other with respect in your contract? Because it is most certainly not in mine!
MISTA SNOWMAN: See, Santa? He's impossible! Just tell him to go home! Let me do this by myself!
SANTA: Waiterbot, I know that you don't like Mista Snowman, and frankly, same here. But for the good of the Advent Calendar, you two have to get along.
WAITERBOT: And why is that? I am perfectly capable of opening shitty gifts and dragging them to your decrepit barn even when I am not on good terms with this frozen symbol of pestilence.
SANTA: Waiterbot...just hear me out.
SANTA: This isn't charity work. I'm paying you. I'm your employer. And as your employer, I have certain expectations. One of them is that you get along with annoying snowmen. Am I making myself clear?
SANTA: Waiterbot, are you even listening to me?
WAITERBOT: ....
WAITERBOT: CHARLES YOU SHIT-DEFINING DEFINITION OF SHIT! I GAVE NO COMMAND TO FETCH CARROTS!
WAITERBOT: Ah, there it is! Good old #7! The first of many Christmas presents that will belong to me alone!
MISTA SNOWMAN: Waiterbot, that's not how this works! You heard what Santa said...we're partners!
WAITERBOT: That's not what he said. And I quote: "Waiterbot gets all of the presents, but the snowman can watch him open them, in the hopes of obtaining vicarious thrills."
MISTA SNOWMAN: Santa did not say that!
WAITERBOT: Do you have any proof that Santa didn't say what I said he said?
MISTA SNOWMAN: Stop being a jerk, Waiterbot! I was standing right there! I heard everything!
WAITERBOT: An audio recording of the conversation would suffice. A video, maybe?
MISTA SNOWMAN: Waiterbot, enough! These gifts belong to both of us!
WAITERBOT: Mista Snowman, I will speak in words that your simple, backwards mind can understand: FUCK. YOU.
