It's Christmas time and the Simpsons celebrate it in their own ways. But things take a turn for the worse when Homer's stingy boss, Mr. Burn...更多>
Marge: Okay, Kids, give me your letters and I'll mail them to Santa at the North Pole. Bart: Oh please, there's only one fat guy who brings us presents and his name ain't Santa. Bart: Come on, Dad, if TV has taught me anything, it's that miracles always happen to poor kids at Christmas. It happened to Tiny Tim, it happened to Charlie Brown, it happened to the Smurfs, and it's gonna happen to us. Homer: Okay, let's go. Who's Tiny Tim? Bart: I can't believe it, but it looks as though television has betrayed me. Marge: Oh, listen to Bart. Doesn't he sound like a little angel? Bart: [singing] Oh... Jingle bells, Batman smells / Robin laid an egg! / The Batmobile broke its wheel, and the Joker got aw... [Skinner yanks him out of the choir] Homer: D'oh! Interviewer: Do you like kids? Homer: What? You mean all the time? Even when they're nuts? [the interviewer gives him a suspicious look] Homer: Uh, I sure do. Bart: One 'Mother', please. Tattoo Artist: Wait a minute, how old are you? Bart: Twenty one, Sir. Tattoo Artist: Get in the chair. Bart: Hey, Santa, what's shaking, Man? Homer: [dressed as Santa] Um, what's your name, Bart... Ner? Uh, little partner? Bart: I'm Bart Simpson, who the hell are you? Homer: [gritting his teeth] I'm jolly old Saint Nick. Bart: Can we keep him, Dad? Please? Homer: But he's a loser. He's pathetic. He's... [the dog licks his face] Homer: A Simpson. Homer: Look at this tree. Beauty, isn't it? Patty: Why is there a bird house in it? Homer: Er... That's an ornament. Selma: Do I smell gun powder? Marge: This is the best gift of all, Homer. Homer: It is? Marge: Yes, something to share our love. And to frighten prowlers. Homer: Um Dasher, Dancer... Prancer... Nixon, Comet, Cupid... Donna Dixon? Teacher: Sit down, Simpson. Marge: You will not be getting a tattoo for Christmas. Homer:
Yeah, if you want one, you'll have to pay for it our of your own allowance.
Bart: All right! Marge: Homer! Homer: [Answering the phone] Hello? Patty: Is Marge there? Homer: Who is this? Patty: Marge, please? Homer: This is her sister, isn't it? Patty: May I please speak to Marge? Homer: Whom shall I ask is calling? Patty: Marge, please. Homer: Aah! Thirteen bucks? Hey, wait a minute! Clerk: That's right. One hundred and twenty dollars gross, less social security, less unemployment insurance, less Santa training, less costume purchase, less beard rental, less Christmas club. See you next year. Homer: Now that just leaves little Maggie. Ah, a squeak toy. It says it's for dogs, but she can't read. Bart: [Upon discovering his father has taken a temporary job as a mall Santa] Dad, you must really love us to sink so low. Homer: I don't wanna leave until our dog finishes. [they wait five minutes] Homer: Ah forget it, let's go. Homer: What are the odds on Santa's Little Helper? Bookie: 99 to 1. Homer: Wow! You hear that, Boy? 99 times 13 equals Merry Christmas! Homer: Did you hear that, Boy? Santa's Little Helper. It's a sign. It's an omen. Bart: It's a coincidence, Dad. Tattoo Removal Technician: Now whatever you do boy, don't squirm. You don't want to get this sucker near your eye or your groin. Boy: And then I want some Robotoids, and a Gook monster, and then I want a great, big... Homer: [Dressed as Santa] Ah, Son, you don't need all that junk. I'm sure you've already got something much more important: A decent home and a loving father who would do anything for you. Hey, I can't afford lunch so give me a bite of that donut. [Homer is applying for a job as a department store Santa Claus] Manager: Do you like children? Homer: What do you mean, all the time? Even when they're nuts? [listening to Bart's class sing "Jingle Bells"] Marge: Oh, listen to Bart. Doesn't he sound like a little angel? Bart: Oh, Jingle Bells, Batman smells, Robin laid an egg./The Batmobile lost its wheel, and the Joker got aw... [Skinner yanks him out of the choir] Homer: D'oh!