“What would you like for Christmas, little girl?”
“Anything but this! Why does you’re beard look like cotton balls? My daddy’s looks like real hair!”

“You little brat! I’m Santa, ya know the hohoh jolly, fat guy that brings you presents. Not the guy at the mall that has freakin’ cotton balls stuck to his friggin’ chin! Get the heck off me! You’re gettin’ coal this Christmas.”

“Honey, be nice to Santa, and look over here, smile for the camera,

. . . oh god, whay do you look green.”

“Mommy, I don’t feel so good. Can we go home! I wanna go home now!”
“Hold on, one more picture. . .
. . .oh, Sweetie, please tell me you didn’t just puke on Santa!”
”@*&$!!!!”

“Hey, Santa, watch your language there’s kids here!”

“Damn! I’m covered in some brat’s barf!”

“Santa, calm down, you’re making the cotton balls fall off!”