(ERIC, JORDAN and MARC have returned to the house with their “bounty.” JARED has finally arrived at the house.)
MARC: Mom, we’re back! And we brought food!
JORDAN: Eric thought he shot one of Santa’s reindeer, so he started crying like a little bitch.
ERIC: Up yours! I did not cry!
MAMA STAAL: I’m not cooking a donkey for Christmas.
ERIC: What’s the big deal? You tie up its bung, and cut it like a deer, and go to town.
MARC: Hehehehehe, bunghole.
MAMA STAAL: You’re being disgusting. All of you.
ERIC: AT least I brought you something.
JORDAN: Yeah, unlike Jared over here who fails at EVERYTHING.
JARED: Kiss my ass, shit twiddler.
ERIC: Everyone, let’s chill out a bit. I’d like to take a moment to talk about the real meaning of Christmas. Lights, please. (JORDAN belches loudly. He and MARC high-five.) See, Jesus was born and he’s the son of God. He was a pretty kick-ass guy and he had some freaky-deaky ideas about loving your enemies and he sacrificed himself to pay for our sins. It’s what makes cross-checking the shit out of the Flyers OK in the eyes of God. Jesus was a loving and caring guy in a land filled with talking snakes and burning bushes, which was a pretty stressful time to live in. In that spirit, I’d like to offer a prayer to those who we care about. I’d like to say to say hey to Baby Jesus and ask him to take care of those who aren’t with us anymore, like our dearly departed brother Jared.
JARED: I’m right here, asshole!
MARC: It’s a Christmas miracle!
ERIC: I’m surprised they let you out for Christmas wherever you’re playing now. I didn’t think that they celebrated Christmas in the Russian parts of Europe, like Germany.
JARED: Dude, I play for the Charlotte Checkers! (everyone stares at him blankly) It’s the AHL affiliate of the Hurricanes!
JORDAN: Playing in that European backwater is making you forget English.
JARED: Screw all of you!
MARC: Hey, does Rockso look a little weird to you?
FATHER STAAL: Yeah, he ate half of our kitchen!
MARC: No, it’s not that. I just don’t remember him having that white spot above his eye.
JARED: No, he always had a big black spot on his back.
MAMA STAAL: I don’t know what you boys are talking about. He’s still the same ol’ Rockso.
JORDAN: I always thought he had black paws, like socks.
ERIC: Mom, dad…you guys…wouldn’t be lying to us all these years?
JARED: You couldn’t!
MAMA STAAL: (nervously) Of course we wouldn’t lie to you boys! Why, Rockso just looks different because of aging. People change looks as they age, don’t they?
FATHER STAAL: Besides, Rockso’s about 30. Dogs usually don’t live that long.
ERIC: Plus, he’s been through a lot. That would age anyone. Remember the time he got struck by lightning?
MARC: Or when he fought that rabid coyote and won?
JORDAN: Or when that tree fell on him?
JARED: I love Rockso.
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