Let's Kill Grandpa This Christmas Page #6

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first thing, to make it official.

- I think there's one

more gift under the tree.

- Get the gift, Carl.

Wake up, Carl.

Will you wipe the dopey look off your face

and get the gift?

That's my gift to Jen.

- Wow, what is that?

- That is a Native

American fertility phallus.

I made that in ceramics.

It's to bring you good luck and strength

to your sexual organs.

- Think it'll do the trick for you, Brett?

- I hope it does, Carl.

- There's one more gift

in the kitchen, Carl.

Get it.

- Well, you better pray

with all your might,

because saying no to her as a woman

is like saying no to

Mother Nature herself.

Taking all the fruit and

not fertilizing the land.

Happy birthday to you

Happy birthday to you

Happy birthday dear Grandpa

Happy birthday to you

And many more

- Happy birthday to my Christmas angel.

Make a wish, Grandpa.

- I already had my wish.

- Well, that was

yesterday, make a new wish.

- Uh, well, it'd be nice

if this f***ing hair

would stop falling out of my head.

- Well, Carl has plugs.

Maybe he can point you

in the right direction.

- Whoa, she is bombed.

She is gonna be okay.

Oh, got your wish, Jen.

You're drunk, it's time to go to bed.

- Get your f***ing hands off me

unless you wanna lose an arm.

Of course I'm drunk.

Any sane person would have to annihilated

to hang out with this family.

- Wow, your father would

be so disappointed,

God rest his soul.

- Blah, blah, blah.

- I wish you could see yourself

and what your life has turned into

when you don't think things through.

- You're just a perfect

example of human capability,

aren't you Grandpa?

- All right, party's over, Jen.

- Shut up, Leigh.

All you know how to do is criticize.

Just criticizing everything

and everyone around you

all day every f***ing day.

Well, I'm sick of it!

'Cause all I need from

a grandfather is someone

to be nice and who

leaves me the f*** alone.

But look what I got, I

got a washed-up old critic

with no one around in his life

but people waiting for

him to croak already

so they can get all his stuff.

Well, I don't give a

sh*t about your stuff.

And living in this dump

would only be a reminder

of all the sh*t I've

had to endure from you

throughout the years.

Your miserable ghost haunting me,

following me around from the great beyond.

So I'm asking you, take

me off of your will.

I'm begging you to do it.

This way I never have

to see your diabolical,

heartless, wrinkly face

ever the f*** again!

- That's it!

That's your voice!

I've been waiting 20

years to hear that come

out of your mouth.

Finally, an expression of the truth.

If you could only do

that without the liquor.

- Well, don't be rude, Carl.

Pull your sister-in-law out of the cake.

- I don't know why she brought up my hair.

- It's bedtime, Carl, time to go to bed.

- Well, she showed her true

colors, that sister of mine.

She has nothing but hate in

her heart for this family.

Sorry you had to see that, Ray.

- That's okay.

And I'm gonna hit the hay now.

I've got a really big day tomorrow.

- You sure do.

- Carl?

- You scared me, a**hole, what?

- Are you going up there now?

- Where do you think I'm going, huh?

Outside to make a snowman?

- Carl, this is bad.

This is really bad.

- Oh, you think so?

- I just wanted to be a writer.

Living out here would have been,

but Ray, Ray.

I just wanted him to be happy.

That's all I ever wanted.

It's all I ever wanted.

- We should end it now.

Pretend like none of this ever happened.

Get the Christmas spirit back.

- Carl, Carl, Carl.

This breaks my heart, Carl,

you're such a nice guy.

It breaks my heart, Carl,

you're such a nice guy.

- Okay.

- Carl?

Where are you going?

- I'm going in there.

What?

- What, are you f***ing deaf?

I said I'm going in there.

I'm going in there, get this

f***ing sh*t over with already.

- Morning, Ray.

- Good morning, Leigh.

- You look great.

Have you seen your groom yet this morning?

- Of course not.

It's bad luck to see the

groom before the ceremony.

Everybody knows that.

- Of course.

Have you seen him yet this morning, Brett?

You know, he really should be up by now.

Grandpa?

- Oh, I'm sure he's up.

I bet your groom looks amazing, Ray.

- Look who's suddenly on Team Grandpa.

Isn't that interesting?

Grandpa, you're gonna be

late for your own wedding!

- He's up, I'm sure.

He's probably just playing

with his hair or something.

- You're sure in a better mood today

than yesterday, Jen.

- Today, I see with new eyes, Ray.

Bloodshot, but new.

- Grandpa?

- You know, after all you've been through,

nobody deserves to be

blessed with a soulmate

any more than you do.

- I just wish we could've

gotten Grandpa a new tux.

- You know, I think we've all had it

with the loving

granddaughter routine, Leigh.

It's getting to be a bit

nauseating now, don't you think?

- You know, you may have

managed to ruin Christmas,

but I'm not going to stand here

and let you destroy Grandpa's wedding.

- I bumped into Carl last night

on my way to pouring myself a drink.

Had to sting out of the

nightmare called my life.

When I noticed Carl over there clutching

onto a big white fluffy pillow,

quivering like a frightened little puppy.

"What you doing over

there, Carl," I asked.

Poor thing, he was too scared to speak.

So I thought, Carl looks

like he can use himself

a drink, too.

So I went and I poured

us a couple of brandies

and we got to talking.

And do you know what he told me, Leigh?

He told me he'd just

gotten through storming

into Grandpa's room with

that big white fluffy pillow.

- You son of a b*tch, you son of a b*tch.

You live, you son of a b*tch.

- Carl!

Get your ass out here now!

How dare you attempt to

do such a wicked thing.

- That's exactly what I asked, Leigh.

And do you know what he told me?

He told me, "Brett made me do it."

- Is that true, Brett?

- Of course not, Ray.

That's ridiculous, honey.

- Shut up, Brett.

Why would Brett make Carl

do such a wicked thing?

I wanted to know.

And that's when Carl mentioned

the hair plug comment

I'd made earlier in the evening.

A comment which he said

was completely untrue.

Funny, I thought.

Why would my sister make

up such a crazy story

about her husband's hair,

while I was lamenting to her

about my husband's infidelity?

- Get your fingers out

of my husband's hair.

- Tell me something, Thomas,

when you're screwing my husband,

and his teeny-weeny little peeny pops out,

as it tends to, can you even feel it?

Oh hey, Grandpa, still alive, huh?

- Yeah, thanks to Carl I am.

- Hi Grandpa, what are

you doing with the gun?

- Oh, I like to carry it.

You know, they said I can still carry it.

Not that I listen to their rules.

I have my own rules.

- Uh, I think you should

put that down for now.

It's starting to frighten us a little bit.

- But I really like holding it.

You know, it's sort of

like a comfort blanket.

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