A Merry Friggin' Christmas Page #2

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marriage counsellor,

me and Dave have worked

through his transgressions.

So my husband, Dad,

is outside smoking a heater.

Dad, Rance is being a gomer!

Hey you guys, cut it out! Where the

hell did you get that thing from?

I took it.

Well, put it the hell back

from where you took it from!

Thank you.

Aw, crud, I can't find my camera.

Mitch, go look for it, will you?

For cripe's sake,

we're not National Geographic.

They're not some bunch of bonobos.

Mitch, they have never

been here for Christmas.

Well, whose fault is that? Not mine. Boyd's

the one who thinks he's too good for us.

Having my family here

means everything to me.

So quit being such an a-hole,

and go look for my G-D camera!

They're here!

Shut up, tramp stamp!

Mitch, hurry up, Boyd's here.

- Boyd!

- Hey! Oh, honey!

- Mom!

- I love you.

I love you. It's great to be home.

You are looking fine as wine.

Can you believe it, Boyd,

all of us together at Christmas!

I know, it's great.

Well, where's the Nel?

Nelson and the baby are

meeting us at church.

- Gotcha.

- Isn't this perfect, Boyd?

This is perfect.

Stop! Don't hurt me!

Don't... don't...

- Dad, you okay?

- I'm fine.

You're welcome, anytime.

You're family.

You okay?

Puba!

Dougie Doodle!

How are you, little bugger?

Everybody get together for a quick photo,

and then we gotta get ready for church.

That glorious song of old.

From angels bending near the earth.

To touch their harps of gold

goodwill to men from

heavens all gracious king.

I really don't know the words to say.

So now I don't have to sing.

Well, of course most of you

remember my wife, Cindy,

and might have known

that when I was in basic,

over by Fort Digs, she ran

off with this Mexican guy,

who played a little minor

league ball for the Wombats.

Pretty halfway decent shortstop.

Anyhow, he got her pregnant,

this Mexican guy did,

so Cindy comes by the

house one day, and goes,

"Hey Nelson, would you mind looking

after the baby for a while?"

And I said, "Yeah,

yeah sure, no sweat."

And anyhow, that was six months ago

and I still got this kid of hers, so.

He don't have a name that I know of,

so I've just been calling him Baby.

But you know, he is

a real, real good boy.

And that's why I want

to name him Boyd,

after my own big brother, who is

just a heck of a good guy himself.

So, I am presenting Boyd Jr.

As a candidate for holy baptism.

Except I figure I'm

gonna call him BJ.

Welcome to the family, BJ.

Dear God, I look around this

table, and I see a family.

I know we're not perfect, Lord God,

even though some people think they are.

We've all got foibles,

peccadilloes if you will.

I'm not gonna name names, Dave;

It's not the time or the place.

Anyhow I just want to say,

thank you, Lord Jesus,

Lamb of God, for bringing

us together here.

And now each one of us is gonna say

something they're thankful for.

- Donna, do it.

- Oh,

I'm thankful little BJ's

christening went okay.

But mostly I'm thankful

we're all here together.

That's a dream for me.

- Skol.

- Skol!

It's a prayer Donna,

not a toast, come on.

- Shauna, you're up.

- Oh. I'm grateful

that through the grace

of our Lord Jesus Christ,

I'm able to forgive all of you for

all the pain you've caused me,

and, thanks to me and

Dave's marriage counsellor,

we are back on the marriage train,

and we are gonna ride it all

the way into the station.

Right?

Well, I got one. I thank God that he

gave me the ability to give 110 percent,

and take first for the WISEA

under-fourteen regionals.

WISEA stands for Wisconsin

Competitive Eating Association.

Rancer ate 27 Johnsonville

brats in five minutes.

- That's a lot of brats.

- Way to go, Rance.

That is... that is really neat.

Let's give it the devil, Rancer.

Come on, pound these back.

Go, Rancer!

Go, go, go, Rancer!

Get it. Go-o-o, Rancer.

Go, go, go, Rancer.

Time!

That's what I'm talking about!

Come on!

Wow, that is really, really neat.

How many hot dogs can

you eat, Dougie doodle?

- We're not allowed to eat hot dogs.

- We're a macrobiotic household.

For crying out loud,

Boyd, what's this crap?

You're gonna turn your kids

into a couple of beatniks.

- Our kids are fine!

- I know they're fine. I'm just saying,

you don't want your boy to

turn into a Sally, do ya?

- Don't tell me how to raise my kids.

- Don't tell me what to do in my house!

Is your name on the mailbox?!

I didn't think so!

Oh really, the mailbox

line again, Dad?

Great, you sparked Nelson's PTSD.

Post-traumatic stress disorder.

When things get tense,

Nelly gets a little squirrely.

He has to go into

a dark, quiet space.

It's from the war.

What war, Mom?

He fell out of the back of a Humvee

during basic training and was discharged.

A head injury!

He got a head injury

serving his country!

Okay.

What...

Why are there shotgun

pellets in my chicken?

Dad.

Because it's squirrel.

Honey, no, we're not leaving.

He fed me a rodent

for Christmas dinner.

Well, you're the only one who

ate squirrel. Ours was really chicken.

You did say that you could handle

anything as long as the kids

were having a good Christmas, and the

kids are having a great Christmas.

Think you can just flex

those emotional muscles,

just a little bit,

and think of Douglas?

I want some more dessert!

And that's how you make

50 dollars an hour.

- Puba?

- Yeah, Dougie?

I want us to leave Santa a snack,

but Rance ate all the cookies

in like, 10 seconds,

and then he drank a

whole gallon of milk.

Whoa.

So, I was wondering if you had anything

else that I could give to Santa?

Of course I do, Bug.

I know something that Santa loves

a lot more than milk and cookies.

Dear Santa, Puba said you would

enjoy this bourbon and asparagus.

I hope you like it a lot. Love,

your very good friend, Douglas Mitchler.

Shake that ass, b*tch,

and let me see what you got.

Shake that ass, b*tch,

and let me see what you got.

Shake that ass, b*tch,

and let me see what you got.

Whoa, that's pretty neat, Pam.

I know, I've got over 75 hits so far.

Your average is zero stars

'cause you suck, turdbait.

Shut up, jackwipe!

Hey, that's not very Christmassy

behaviour. Gather up.

So, we have a tradition in our family

where we read The Night

Before Christmas

the night before Christmas. Get it?

This is mentally challenged.

Do you think this is a joke, Rance?

This isn't a joke. This is Christmas.

We're not two, Uncle Boyd! I mean,

all this Santa crap is for babies!

Every dumb-ass knows

there's no such thing!

Shut up! Shut your mouth! Shut your

big, eating mouth! Right now, shut it!

- Santa will find me here, right Dad?

- Of course he will, Bug.

In fact, Santa just texted me to say

that he made you an amazing present!

But you're gonna have to

wait until morning to see it.

Okay.

Look at this pile of crap. This country's

so damn excessive it makes me wanna puke.

Oh put a sock in it, Mitchler.

Well, they're all down.

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