Wow, a big fat guy, gray beard. Eh? Santa... I'm gonna rip your fucking balls off.
Violent Night
1.8s
It's gonna be okay.
Violent Night
1.9s
Copy. What's the status on the Kill Squad?
Violent Night
4.2s
For doing this. I'm not doing it for you.
Violent Night
29.5s
All right, who did you hire to play Santa at your Christmas party, huh? I said, who's playing Santa at your fucked-up Christmas party? I didn't hire a Santa. I never have a Santa. It's tacky. So, who is he? ♪ Oh, what fun it is to ride... ♪ Huh? Who is he? Somebody better start talking, or I'm gonna bash her brains in with this... Damn, Gertrude. You really got a thing for nutcrackers, huh?
Violent Night
4.4s
Santa's gonna eat through these guys like a plate full of cookies.
Violent Night
5.3s
Is it snowing? Is he doing this with Santa magic?
Violent Night
17.5s
To whom am I speaking? Well, for tonight, I'm Mr. Scrooge. Now, what is it that you want exactly, Santa? I want you to put down your weapons, I want you to let this family go, and then I want to find my reindeer, and I want to continue delivering my presents.
Violent Night
3.6s
Jean-Claude Van Dipshit just ditched us, sweetie.
Violent Night
13.9s
What's the situation inside? Bunch of ex-military guys, but I got to warn you, they know you're coming. I think they're ready for you. They better be. We're on a tight schedule. Shit.
Violent Night
5.3s
It's... beauti...
Violent Night
6.6s
As a kid, I loved unwrapping Christmas presents so much that my mom would wrap empty boxes for me.
Violent Night
2.3s
Let's go see Grandma.
Violent Night
2s
Step aside.
Violent Night
4m32s
Now, how did this tired, old, fat piece of shit get the drop on us? I don't know. He's not even armed. This bag is the only thing he had on him. What's in there? Can't see anything. Here, give it to me. What kind of moron... carries a chess set with him? What the fuck? Doesn't make any sense. Look at all this shit. So, you're gonna tell us what's the gimmick with the bag? It's magic. You put your hand in, out comes a present. I don't really understand how it works, either. So, you're Mr. Scrooge. That's right. But who are you? Weihnachtsmann. Julenissen. Shèngdàn Laorén. Babbo Natale, Père Noel, Kris Kringle. Jolly old Saint Nick. People call me a lot of things. Ha, ha, ha. Very funny. Or should I say, "Ho, ho, ho"? If you're Santa, where's your reindeer? They were on the roof until that guy I turned into an ice kebab just... You don't believe me? Go check. Prancer left a tasty log up there. This fucking guy. You don't think... Now, I know you're an idiot, but don't be an idiot out loud. Come on, he's just in Santy Claus with a fucking trick bag. Oh, no! That bag was full of kids' dreams! Oh, come on. Everybody knows that Christmas dreams are bullshit. My father used to make a big deal out of it every Christmas. Every freaking Christmas with the presents and the candy and the decorations and the Christmas caroling and all that bullshit. And then when I was... I don't know, ten, 11, he got laid off, and that Christmas, couldn't even afford a tree. No Christmas dinner, no gifts. Nothing, nada, culo, dick. But our neighbors... our neighbors, oh, they had it all. I could see all that yuletide cheer through their window mocking me. So Christmas Eve rolls around, and... I waited for everybody to go to bed. And then I snuck in there to take it all. Only problem was that the gramps got up to take a piss and the two of us scared the shit out of each other. And, um, he fell down the stairs and-and broke his neck, and he died in the hospital. Everybody thought that I did it, and every time I tried to tell them, I tried to tell them that... Anyway, maybe I did do it. Maybe I did push him. Poor old fucker. So, you see, Christmas ruined my life. Okay? But you know what? It set me on the path and made me the great man that I am today. I'm sorry, Jimmy. I really am. But I do gifts. I do Christmas cheer. I don't get involved in people's lives. Oh, yeah? Yeah, well, maybe you fucking should! Um, how did he know your name? Oh, Bjorn. What's your excuse? Huh? Didn't I get you that Huffy bike you wanted back in '82? One you wrote me 50 times about! What about you, Kira? Well, you made your brother eat worms. That's naughty! Okay, how does he know about my bike? It's a lucky guess, like: "Hey, do you like big tits?" Come on, every kid wants a fucking bike. -You're gonna tell me who you work for... -Oh, Christ. No. Then you've got five seconds to tell me who you really are. Five, four, three, two... I'm Santa Claus! Well, not anymore.