Bad Santa 2 Page #5

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- Gina, was it?

- That's right.

- Ronald. We haven't officially met.

- Well, hello, Ronald. Officially.

I bet you got no idea

how beautiful you really are.

I don't know,

I think I've got some idea.

- Oh, you do, do you?

- Maybe a little.

I don't mean to be indiscreet,

but I do pretty well.

So if you can't bring your A game,

don't even try.

Sweetheart, I'm not sure

you could handle my A game.

You get one hit of me

and you'll be addicted.

I like your confidence.

I'd light you up like

the Fourth of July-.

Look, Ronald,

I'm just gonna cut to the chase here.

I am strictly first-class.

I'm talking Chrysler 300,

factory-direct, fully loaded.

And after that... lobster.

Now if you think you can handle that,

then maybe, just maybe,

I'll pencil you in.

Bye.

Joy to the world, the Lord is come

Aren't they great?

Regent likes to focus on the business,

but I'm like you.

I am all about those kids

and the Christmas concert.

We all participate.

Volunteers, staff.

If you're interested, you could join us.

You outta your goddamn mind?

I ain't dancing around

with a bunch of candy canes and sh*t.

Because I'm all about

the birth of Christmas'

You know, the wise guys

kicked him out of the hotel

and the ejaculate conception

and the drummer that didn't have sh*t

to give him but some perfume...

And the King Midas or one of them

threatened to cut the kid in half,

tum him into gold and but, see, I...

It's a heavy deal for me.

Pretty damn heavy.

Are you talking about

the true meaning of Christmas?

- Exactly.

- Right.

Don't forget about the meeting

tomorrow night at 7:30.

- Oh, yeah.

- Hey, it's only scary the first time.

- Does this bus go to Chicago?

- No.

Son, this bus goes

to the Arrowhead Premium Outlets.

- Is that close to Chicago?

- No.

Okay.

How do I look?

You look like one of those trolls

that gang-f***ed Willy Wonka.

Good one, shitstick.

Hey, Shaft, you ready to stick it

to this chick tonight?

B*tch, let me tell you something.

When I was at the pen,

everyone called me tripod.

Well, if your legs are six inches long,

that's not that big

of a f***ing deal, see.

Now, if you're six foot five

and they called you tripod,

then you're talking about something.

Miserable fucks, both of you.

- Mm.

- Goddamn, did you eat your own sh*t?

- No, I've been eating caramels.

You know how caramels

make Mama belch. Remember?

No. No, I don't.

No, come on. You remember.

Look, when you were a baby,

I used to chew and feed you caramels,

just like a mama bird does.

I'd chew and chew and chew

till they were all milky.

Goddamn.

And then I'd...

spit them right in your little mouth.

And you'd just,

you'd just squint your little...

Can't you see I'm trying to eat

a f***ing pizza here?

I swear to God, a f***ing electric oven.

Anyway, it took this new set of teeth

to finally see the light.

Jesus, I already need a f***ing drink.

People ask me

if I miss my old teeth.

But sometimes, you have to

lose something to gain something.

Now, I'm dating again,

and I'm ready to find The One.

Thank you for that, Jason.

- With no teeth, he ought to try dudes.

- Terrible.

Would anyone else care to share?

Anyone?

The stage is yours.

- Hi, I'm Diane and I'm an alcoholic.

- Hi, Diane.

Maybe next time,

you'll feel comfortable speaking.

I don't know about that.

Okay. Fine.

Maybe you can just talk to me

if that's easier.

Do you ever feel like you hit rock bottom?

You gotta be shitting me.

I sure did. In my late 20's.

You know, some people

can have one drink and they're fine.

I am not that kind of person. I get wild.

- I'm all ears. How wild?

- What?

You mean like sex stuff?

That kind of thing?

Yes.

Alcohol led me to make

some not-so-good choices.

But I've cleaned up my life.

- I met Regent...

- Wait a minute, hang on.

You picked that douche bag up

when you were sober?

He was different

when he was in the Peace Corps.

He helped me find focus.

You don't understand, it was bad.

Three-ways, five-ways...

Five-ways? How many holes do you have?

- Anyway, the drinking had to stop.

- Yeah, I guess so.

It was probably making you forget

all the fun you had.

I'm talking about addiction, Mr. Cook.

Like sex? Or booze?

Listen, I'll tell you what,

I'd like to get you in

that back seat there.

And tear your little panties off

and get that ass in my face

and just f*** that p*ssy

like you can't imagine.

Excuse me?

You filthy, dirty...

Well, I thought that's what

we were talking about here.

Get out of my car!

- Damn, no sweat.

- Unbelievable.

- Goddamn.

- I'm trying to help you.

- Look, I'm sorry.

I f***ing read you wrong. I was just...

Well, thank you, Ronald.

- That was some fine crustacean.

- Yeah.

Maybe we should take this upstairs.

- Hmm.

- What?

When it's right, it's right.

I feel it, you feel it?

- You're really fun, but just...

- I'm not tall enough for you?

- What?

- Go on and say it.

No! Your height has nothing to do with it.

I don't even see height.

What's the trouble, then, baby?

You're just not my type.

I'm into older guys.

You know, like, older Jewish guys,

older Irish guys, dads.

Not my dad, other people's dads.

They're the best.

You know, they're usually into anal.

But their wives won't give it up.

But I don't mind. I'm just into, you know,

more mature, experienced guys.

Guys who are well-traveled,

cultured and into butt stuff.

Bad boys, you know. Guys who don't

give a f*** and treat me like sh*t.

A guy who if I asked him to choke me,

would enjoy it just a little too much.

Damn, girl, I wouldn't pick you out

for that kind of sh*t'

Christmas in general gets me so drenched.

I mean, a guy breaks into your house,

eats your food

and then punishes you

because you were naughty.

I think I'm gonna go upstairs

and watch It's a Wonderful Life

and rub one out right now.

But thanks for the lobster.

Ain't that but a b*tch!

Done ate ten pounds of lobster

and I didn't even get a chance

to smell that p*ssy.

Damn. Sh*t.

Fine, get in.

Regent and I haven't had sex

in over a decade.

We stay together for the charity.

I'm a good girl, Mr. Cook,

but sometimes I need to be bad.

Now get your filthy ass in the car.

See, that's what I thought.

Oh, yeah!

F*** me like the dirty little slut

that I am.

Call me Santa.

- What?

- Call me Santa.

Don't be weird. Tell me how dirty this is.

- Call me Santa.

- Shut up.

And spit on me.

'F***!

- Tell me how dirty it is.

- Okay.

Uh, it's a dumpster in an alley.

It's pretty, pretty f***ing dirty,

I guess.

- Tell me it's f***ing dirty!

- Okay, it's f***ing dirty.

It's dirty.

Yes, ifs dirty.

- Oh, oh, f*** me. I'm so dirty.

- Yeah.

It was a one-time thing.

That never happened.

All right.

What the f***?

I'm not missing The Bachelor finale.

I gotta see who the dingleberry

gives his last rose to,

Goiter Face or Drunk Slut.

F***! Oh! Get out of my brain!

- Hey, Homeo, you got the key?

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