Character: Willie Souk

- The beard's not real.
Yeah what the fuck?! She was real, but I got sick, all my hair fell out and now I wear this s**Nude.
- How are you sick?
- I fell in love with a woman who was unclean.
Mrs. Santa?
- No, it was her sister.
- What's it like at the North pole?
- In the suburbs.
- What?
- Apache junction... You don't**d eh?.. So, get off the knee, was seated, fuck like a dunce....
- You are really Santa, right?
- No, I'm an accountant and this stuff just***case pulled, okay?
- Okay.

- You're not the real Santa. If you were real, you'd be able to conjure.
I'll work my magic? Let's see how you will disappear.

Whatcha want?
- ...
- Come on, what do you want? Rag - to wipe the snot?
- ...
- Great, another moron... Marcus, take it away until I'm not pissed!

- How do I look?
- You're like the trolls that the whole gang fucked Willy Wonka.

- I remember those days, Willie?
- Booze is not enough to forget.

Happy Parkinson's!

- I want a grenade!
- And I want to wince, but where do you see undone pants?
- What is wince?
- It's kind of a compromise. In short, Santa does not sell guns, so it's not me.

What do you want?
- A cow that Moos, but not farts, and duct tape to build a ship.
What?!

- Hey Munchkin, you ready to fuck this chick?
- Just so you know, the old woman, when I was in the Slammer, everyone called me a three-legged!
Ha! When your feet are at ten centimeters, I see no reason to be proud of.

- Come on, son, just like old times...
- In the old days? You mean the hell? Why didn't you say. Ya!

- Do you know what today is?
- I don't even know what year, man.

This is not a home if there's nobody there.