Narrated in Morgan Freeman's voice by Quincy
Interjections of frequent harassment by Igor and Yeti
Written in Santa's warm Christmas blood by the cats; Moby, Poe, Fathead, Lily, Petunia, Beepers, Mama, Splave and Shocky
|Igor the Damn Half Breed Chug|
Shocky: What I am thankful for this holiday season is our Savior, the Man with the Plan. President elect, Donald Trump! He's gonna build a wall with his tiny- yet ever so soft hands.
Igor: *sigh* And where will this wall go?
Shocky: Don't you follow political religion? The wall goes all the way to Mexico which is the gateway to hell. That's what Beepers says.
Quincy: Beepers also thinks Satan lives in her sphincter and every time she craps she's birthing shit demons. That's why she won't bury her poop. She's doesn't want them to have to fight their way up from the litter to conquer the world. Stop listening to that crazy-ass cat!
|Voice of Reason|
Splave: I am thankful for the food bringers. I just wish they would wear gloves when they prepare my food. I know where their disgusting hands have been. And to top it off, they attempt to touch ME with their filthy fingers. But they don't realize their touch is like acid! And it burns, it BURNS!! I need Santa to bring some antibacterial soap.
|Splave- Reaching for the Anti-Bacterial Soap|
Igor: Maybe Santa has a sack full of therapy for ya, Splave.
Petunia: Psst...wanna know what I'm thankful for this holiday season? Meet me down stairs next to the fresh pile of puke next to the washer. Don't make eye contact with anyone.
Yeti: Quincy, Petunia is selling drugs again down by the puke pile.
|Yeti- the Snitch|
Quincy: Shut up you two, we're doing a nice Christmas letter here! Mama, you're up...
Mama: What I'm thankful for this holiday season are the lights. They are sooo pretty. And for sparkly brown crayons and balls of ham.
|Mama- Dreaming of Holiday Ham Balls|
Quincy: (Shaking his furry head) I'm glad she's got looks because she be stoo-ped.
Beepers: Not thankful. Must...kill....everyone....
Quincy: Goddamn it Beepers. You forgot to take your medicine again, didn't you? Next!
Lily: What I am thankful for this holiday season is the huge hooded litter box smack dab in the living room! Mom was sick of me pooping and peeing on the dog's pee pads on the living room floor and me rolling them in a ball when I'm done- and because I roll them in a ball I fling turds all over the carpet. In my defense, Petunia and Beepers, who RULE the basement are PSYCHO. Every time I go down there to use one of the 6 litter boxes, those bitches are always harassing me. Beepers ambushes me with a turkey baster as soon as I plant my ass in the box and Petunia attempts to sell me catnip, balls of ham and heroin. I can't even take a shit in peace. I'm sick of it. Dammit, I can't be her only client.
|Lily- Her Eyes 'All-Aglow' While Staring at her Private Litter Box.|
Fathead: What I'm thankful for is not having died from THE AIDS.
|Doesn't have "the Aids"|
Igor: Fatty, you don't have THE AIDS, you have a just have an issue with your white blood cells. Nothing more. You're on meds. You're fine.
Fathead: Who made you a doctor? And, worse yet, I think I found blood in my stool.
Quincy: You ate a can of red beets, dumbass.
Fathead: Should I ask Santa for a prescription for Percocets and an anal thermometer for Christmas?
Petunia: Psst..Fatface....meet me in the basement at the 3rd litter box in 20 minutes. Bring cash.
|Petunia- Drug Lord|
Quincy: Oh my god... Petunia get your dealing ass back in the cellar. Poe you're up next.
Poe: I'm glad that I am an only fur-kid here with mom and dad!
Quincy: Umm..wait a minute dude. There are 9 of you goddamn cats and 3 of us pups in this house.
Poe: Oh yeah. Sure, sure. Hey, ah...you think Santa would bring me some heavy duty garbage bags, a hacksaw and a woodchipper?
|Poe-Asking for a Wood Chipper this Christmas|
Quincy: Jesus Poe, No! You're getting as bad as Beepers.
Poe: Fine. *grumbling in some stupid cat language to himself.* I guess I don't need the garbage bags....
Moby: I'd like to be thankful, I really would, but 2016 was one shitty year. I lost my job at the factory and my wife of 36 years left me for this stray Angora with a man-bun. 32 of my 40 children are hooked on drugs; thanks Petunia. And the vet just diagnosed me with chronic yarn-in-the-ass syndrome from, get this, eating yarn! Now, how the hell is that's MY fault?
Igor: Moby, you are so full of shit...and yarn. You're a cat, none of the above has happened.
Moby: It could have...
|Moby- None too Happy from Contracting 'Yarn-Ass'|
Quincy: God help me. Yeti, you're up...
Yeti: I'm thankful for the bed in mom and dad's room. It's so soft and cozy. I get so excited while digging a hole in the comforter; for what reason...I don't know. And once I spin around 20-30 times in the fluffy blankets it takes no time before I just...just...ZZZZZZZZZ.
Igor: The little bugger has turned narcoleptic. Yo, dumbass. Wake up!
Yeti: What...what happened? Did I fall asleep again while talking about being all snuggled up in mom and dad's beee...ZZZZZZ.
Quincy: Let him sleep. He adds nothing to this Christmas letter anyway. What about you Igor? What are you thankful for this holiday season?
Igor: I'm thankful for the same crap as always- you know; a warm home and good food. It's nice to know that mom and dad let us get in touch with our roots and encourage us to be WILD dogs, occasionally letting us hunt for our food. In our neighborhood, there are a lot of prey to let loose on. We ate the dickhead neighbors last month. They were way behind on their rent and their kids were fat little bastards who shouldn't have been in the gene pool anyway. We did the landlord and society a favor. Man, that George Foreman grill really comes in handy. It drains off all the Dorito and Mountain Dew flavored fat and leaves only the clean taste of buttery shrimp ass and tears. Oh and I'm also thankful for the ability to lick my ghost nuts. I'm psyched that I'm still limber.
Quincy: Dammit, you took what I was thankful for!
Igor: Heh, heh, heh...
Quincy: You're such a dick, Igor. Well, I'm ALSO thankful for another Christmas letter in the books. This 'being thankful' shit is exhausting. So Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukah, Great Balls of Kwanza and may 2017 not suck as much as 2016.