Christmas Cruelty! (2013)

Eline : ...from the German word "Krampen" which means "claw". And he had...

Per-Ingvar : Magne, you seem to be getting hard. Are you ready for it to come off?

Magne : Mphmff.

Per-Ingvar : I know what you are saying. Strange how hard it was to get this off.

Eline : Did you use enough Vaseline?

Per-Ingvar : Oh no.

Magne : Fucking dirty Laplander!

Per-Ingvar : We just have to tear it off. Ready? One, two, three! What was that?

Magne : My beard! Fuck, that hurts.

Per-Ingvar : I'm really sorry about that. But one more pull and it's over.

Magne : I hate you.

Per-Ingvar : Alright. One, two, three. Your eyebrows?

Magne : Yes.

Per-Ingvar : With beard and eyebrows gone, I'm sure the worst is over. Ready?

Magne : No.

Per-Ingvar : Great. One, two, three! What is that?

Magne : My eyelashes. Fuck! Now I got a piece of plaster in my eye too.

Eline : Are you all right?

Per-Ingvar : Yes, this is nothing.

Magne : Nothing? You have tortured me... disfigured me and made me blind on one eye... and permanently mummified my head! Get this fucking shit off of me now!

Per-Ingvar : Okay. One...

Magne : No fucking counting!

Magne : Have I lost all my fucking facial hair?

Per-Ingvar : No, there's still some left... and the rest of it is right here in your mask.

Magne : Christmas workshop... really sucks. I'm serious! Your head must be completely messed up since you can enjoy this shit. It's not fucking normal!

Eline : Per-Ingvar is enjoying it too.

Magne : You can't use him as an example of what's normal. He's brain-damaged.

Eline : No, he's not.

Per-Ingvar : Yes.

Magne : Tell Eline how it happened. It indicates you weren't that bright to begin with either.

Per-Ingvar : I got my head crunched in a car door.

Magne : You make it sound like you picked a fight with Vinnie Jones! Tell her how you got your stupid head caught in the car door.

Per-Ingvar : I had a handicap car with an electric door. I had pushed the button to close it, then I dropped something. And as I bent down to pick it up, and the door came and squeezed my head.

Magne : The door was this slow.

Per-Ingvar : Yeah, it was really slow.

Magne : And noisy as hell. How could you not see it coming?

Eline : Were you all right?

Per-Ingvar : I got a swelling in my brain.

Magne : What did the doctor tell you to do?

Per-Ingvar : Take it easy for a couple of weeks, and stay away from TV screens.

Magne : And what did you do?

Per-Ingvar : I went home and continued working.

Magne : On a computer.

Per-Ingvar : Yes.

Magne : And after you turned off your computer at night?

Per-Ingvar : I watched a movie.

Magne : One movie?

Per-Ingvar : Maybe two or three.

Magne : Or four or five.

Per-Ingvar : Sometimes.

Magne : So you sat there, in front of one screen or another, the entire time. From you woke up until you fell asleep. Contrary to your doctor's orders.

Per-Ingvar : Doctors say the weidest things.

Magne : But in this case he was right.

Per-Ingvar : Yes, I suppose.

Magne : Now you're not only a cripple, you're a retard to. So I can understand why Per-Ingvar like this. He's a retarded, fat, small Asbjørn Brekke on wheels. You, on the other hand, seem quite intelligent. I can't fathom why you take joy in this fucking shit!

Eline : Each to his own. I guess tomorrow is more your style.

Magne : What's tomorrow?

Eline : Krampus day.

Magne : What the fuck is that?

Eline : A day in honour of Krampus. A creature travelling with Santa Claus who dealt with the naughty kids. December 5th is Krampus day. People wear scary masks and try to scare the living shit out of others.

Magne : We've got to do that! Stop with this fucking nonsense. Lets make Krampus masks instead!

Per-Ingvar : All right.

Magne : Die, you fucking hedgehog gnome!

Magne : Do you know what you're doing?

Per-Ingvar : Take it easy. They do this in kindergarten.

Eline : You should make the masks really scary. Krampus was an ugly bastard with horns and sharp teeth.

Per-Ingvar : Remember to use plenty of Vaseline.

Magne : No fucking way.

Per-Ingvar : I just want to say...

Per-Ingvar : Krampus must be the coolest Christmas icon ever!

Eline : My favorite is actually the barn gnome.

Magne : The barn gnome? He's got nothing on Krampus!

Eline : Then you probably don't know about the real barn gnome. He's not one to be messed with. He was small, but wicked strong. And his bite was venomous. If you didn't get otherworldly medicine, you would die. He had four fingers, pointy ears, hair all over his body. And eyes that glowed in the dark.

Per-Ingvar : That's not the way he looks on my Christmas cards.

Eline : Those are his descendants, and they were much cuter. The barn gnome was easily offended, and he could cause a lot of havoc. As you know, he loved possidge. At Christmas people gave him porridge. But once a maid ate the porridge herself. The gnome got so angry that he knocked the stuffing out of her. The farmer found her the next day in a pool...

Magne : Finished!

Eline : ...of blood. Wow! That's... Once the barn gnome actually killed an innocent cow.

Per-Ingvar : Oops!

Magne : What the fuck did you think would happen, you fucking cuntface?

Per-Ingvar : On my other chair the tyres are made of solid rubber.

Magne : So why didn't you use that one?

Per-Ingvar : I took this one as part of my disguise.

Magne : You don't think people will realise it's you? There are loads of retarded cripples looking like a bean bag with hands, right?

Per-Ingvar : It could have been Sverre Johan.

Magne : You're so fucking stupid you could have been a shortbus all by yourself.

Eline : Knock it off. Let's scare the crap out of somebody. She might be a good candidate.

Thomas : He takes out a beige bathroom molding, about this long. "One ticket then". We didn't know how to react.

Christmas tree salesman : Good evening! Can I help you?

Per-Ingvar : Maybe. What's he saying?

Thomas : He's wondering what he can help us with.

Per-Ingvar : Ah, okay! I want a Christmas tree.

Christmas tree salesman : Christmas tree. I have spruce. I also have silver fir. And I even have a pine tree.

Thomas : He's wondering what type of tree we want?

Per-Ingvar : A nice one, maybe.

Christmas tree salesman : This is the best Christmas tree in the world. 675 kroner.

Magne : Holy shit. Don't you have anything cheaper?

Christmas tree salesman : Yes, this one. 225 kroner.

Magne : A Christmas tree is a Christmas tree.

Christmas tree salesman : No, it is not. There are differences between them. I know. I've got all the wood in here.

Per-Ingvar : What's he saying?

Magne : That he's a blockhead, so I should pick the tree. We'll take that one.

Per-Ingvar : How much is it?

Christmas tree salesman : 225 kroner.

Per-Ingvar : Yeah, that's a fair price.

Christmas tree salesman : Would you like to try some real Dutch cheese? Did you like the cheese?

Thomas : Peculiar taste.

Magne : Ass crack mush and sour gym socks.

Thomas : Let's get rambling.

Christmas tree salesman : Thank for your business! Merry Christmas to you.

Magne : Let's hope this oversized wonderbaum covers our Dutch dick cheese breath.

Magne : Ew... This weak cunt brew tastes like seagull cum.

Per-Ingvar : I put in the entire bottle of wine.

Magne : You only got one bottle of wine, you cripple burrito? Mongo!

Magne : We'll have to spice it up. We can't serve this piss.

Per-Ingvar : Whisky?

Magne : McCleary can be used for anything. Still too fucking weak. We'll put in all the liquor you have.

Per-Ingvar : Is that a good idea?

Magne : Oh yes.

Per-Ingvar : I was thinking of saving that for New Year's.

Magne : Leave the thinking to those of us who are not... Retarded.

Magne : Got any more alcohol?

Per-Ingvar : Nope.

Magne : Then this brew is finished.

Per-Ingvar : We'll just add raisins and almonds.

Magne : Fuck the raisins! It's fucking Christmas!

Magne : Christmas Ho! Must be you.

Eline : Thanks for that.

Magne : Cheers, people nuggets!

Eline : Cheers!

Per-Ingvar : Cheers!

Magne : Motherfucker! Now, that's what I call a good fucking brew!

Eline : What the hell is this?

Magne : Mulled wine.

Eline : You can't call that acid for mulled wine.

Magne : It's über mulled wine.

Per-Ingvar : I quite liked it.

Eline : You were about to vomit.

Per-Ingvar : That dosen't mean I didn't like it.

Eline : Why don't you play us a song, Magne.

Per-Ingvar : How about the one you wrote for Veronica.

Eline : Did she like it?

Magne : I got to fuck her eventually, so I guess so.

Eline : You've got no respect for women.

Magne : Why the fuck should I? Every single cunt I've been with has been a complete fucking airhead.

Eline : Naturally. But you can't judge all women on those nitwits you've fucked.

Magne : Sure I fucking can! You're all the same.

Eline : Get a grip. Do you agree with this, Per-Ingvar?

Per-Ingvar : Yes.

Eline : Who do you agree with?

Per-Ingvar : Ehhh... You?

Magne : Wow, you made Per-Ingvar agree with you. That's quite an accomplishment! It would take Hitler two seconds to convince that retarded jellyfish that wiping out cripples is a fabulous idea.

Eline : Fuck you!

Magne : Don't get upset. No matter what we say, you women turn it into something negative. Like one of my sloppy she-meat exes that constantly complained that she was bored. I made her some fucking great suggestions. To clean the house or cook.

Eline : Is that what you think we should do?

Magne : Absolutely, that's what you're supposed to do. But women are good for nothing. Men are best at everything. Even cooking, which is your area. Probably knitting too!

Eline : So we can't be used for anything?

Magne : Sure, there is one thing.

Eline : And that's all you appreciate about women?

Magne : Other than that there's just PMS, whining, freeloading...

Eline : Without that guitar you wouldn't be able to get girls at all.

Magne : Enough of this. Let's party!

Per-Ingvar : Magne, you're a pirate!

Magne : That would explain everything...

Magne : Close that goddamn fucking door! It's cunt freezing cold outside! Bloody... fucking... tumbleweed mook... What... the... fuck! Jeezeez. Holy shit! What the fuck did we drink last night?

Per-Ingvar : Home made napalm.

Magne : It shouldn't be possible to be as fucking hung as I am now.

Per-Ingvar : Even Emilio is hung over.

Magne : Shouldn't there be a girl here too?

Per-Ingvar : Yes, Eline. Where is she?

Magne : How the fuck would I know?

Per-Ingvar : Let's look for her.

Magne : Holy fucking shit. She won't be in a closet, you little maggot stick. I have looked for her there.

Per-Ingvar : I need to pu...

Magne : Fucking rectum gerbil. By the way, I've found her.

Per-Ingvar : She was in a closet.

Eline : Oh my god, I feel so trashed. I think I've got to go home and swallow a few boxes of painkillers. And go to bed.

Magne : I would take you home, but... I don't think I'll be sober enough to drive. Until Wednesday.

Per-Ingvar : I can drive you.

Eline : With that?

Per-Ingvar : Yep.

Eline : But... That's going to take for ever.

Per-Ingvar : We can go full bunny. Then it's very... Quite fast.

Magne : He's not exactly the sharpest spoon in the drawer. Christine speaks about her struggle with anorexia and eating disorders. Then this fucking birdbrain says: "Luckily there is no disorder when I eat!"

Per-Ingvar : Tell us about the...

Eline : Did you know that over 47 000 people under 18 have eating disorders? With bulimia only 6 %...

Magne : Who was that?

Per-Ingvar : The Boyband Shrimp.

Magne : Why the hell did you let him in?

Per-Ingvar : He wanted to come in.

Magne : The Boyband Shrimp, for fuck's sake! That's why you have that fucking opener, so you don't have to let every piece of shit in your appartment. You don't need a lock. Just a fucking curtain!

Boybandreka : Hello, babe! Did you miss me?

Eline : Not really.

Magne : You're an intolerable, annoying, no good shithorse.

Boybandreka : Yeah right!

Magne : Do you know what that cocksucker and his cheese dick friends did to Per-Ingvar at school?

Eline : No.

Magne : They used to break his bones.

Boybandreka : Come on, everybody bullied him!

Magne : But only you put him in the hospital... on purpose.

Boybandreka : Do you remember when we buried him and his wheelchair in the snow behind the bike shed?

Magne : Of course. I had to dig him out, like always.

Boybandreka : It was hilarious! The wheelchair didn't surface until the snow melted. I'm a real bad boy. I'm sure that's something you like.

Eline : You know what, I think you're a...

Magne : Cocksucker.

Eline : Yeah, a cocksucker.

Magne : I couldn't have said it better. This calls for a celebration! Open this. I'll get the glasses.

Per-Ingvar : Don't I get to save this for New Year's Either?

Magne : Fuck no! What the hell did you do?

Per-Ingvar : It wasn't on purpose.

Magne : You should have aimed at the fucking Boyband Shrimp instead. You broke his fucking nose, you monkey loaf! Now I have to get him to the ER. Jerk!

Boybandreka : That was way cool!

Eline : My god, what an idiot you are. There's something seriously...

Serial-Santa : Give me the code, or I'll skin the remaining girl alive!

Per-Ingvar : Fshmmfsh.

Serial-Santa : Speak up!

Per-Ingvar : Four, seven, four, seven.

Serial-Santa : 4747?

Per-Ingvar : Yes.