Grandma Spankenheimer:
We make enough money.
Cousin Mel:
Enough? Enough is never enough.
Narrator:
The way I see it, you can divide the world up into two kinds of people, those who like fruitcake, and the rest of us.
Jake Spankenheimer:
[
seeing the family's new inflatable Christmas tree] But our family always goes out and gets a real tree.
Daphne Spankenheimer:
Don't you want to save the forest? Nobody gets a tree anymore, it's not cool.
Cousin Mel:
Incase you haven't noticed, Frank, your son suffers a dreaded affliction.
Frank Spankenheimer:
What affliction?
Cousin Mel:
The Santa-Claus-is-real syndrome. He shows all the signs. Making lists to Santa, checking them twice, good behavior, falling asleep before midnight, I figure he gets it from his grandmother.
Jake Spankenheimer:
You saw it, didn't you, Grandpa?
Grandpa Spankenheimer:
I'm sorry, did you say something? I was too busy watching Grandma get hit by Santa's sleigh. What a sight, sleigh comes out of nowhere, Grandma takes a header into the snowbank, sleigh vanishes, like the Ghost of Christmas Past.
Cousin Mel:
And that's what's known as an advanced case of Santa-Claus-is-real syndrome.
Cousin Mel:
All you have to do is sign.
Grandpa Spankenheimer:
Sing?
Cousin Mel:
No, sign.
Grandpa Spankenheimer:
Fine.
Cousin Mel:
So sign.
Grandpa Spankenheimer:
I'd rather sing.
Jake Spankenheimer:
Who are you?
I.M. Slime:
Cousin Mel's attorney, I.M. Slime.
Jake Spankenheimer:
You said it, not me.
Frank Spankenheimer:
Here it is, the last of Grandma's fruitcakes.
Jake's Mother:
Is it still good? Did she use preservatives?
Frank Spankenheimer:
Preservatives? It's a fruitcake.
[
bounces the fruitcake]
Grandma Spankenheimer:
[
about the inflatable tree] Where's the jabbing yourself with pine needles? Hanging ornaments? The old fashioned smell of a genuine Douglass Fur?
Grandpa Spankenheimer:
If you want old fashioned smells, I'll get my fishing boots.
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