I've whipped up this nasty little soirée over at his friend Wyatt's house. –Soir-what? –Soirée, honey. I think that means, um, 'party.' –Party. You know, there's going to be sex, drugs, rock-n-roll... chips, dips, chains, whips... you know, your basic high school orgy-type of thing. I mean, uh, I'm not talking candle wax on the nipples or witchcraft or anything like that. No, no, no. No, just a couple of hundred kids running around in their underwear acting like complete animals.
What'd you need? –Any Christmas ideas you might have. –There's no such thing as the star of Bethlehem. –Jesus was born in North Africa. How come in paintings it always looks like he's one of the Bee Gees? –All right, Christmas ideas that don't shriek of meanness. –Hey, your people stole Jesus from my people.