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The Christmas Skit The Christmas Skit A typical house on Christmas Eve. The family room is dark. Suddenly Santa comes down the chimney with his sack. He dusts himself off then claps his hands. The lamps in the room suddenly turn on. Santa looks around and spies the cookies and milk. He walks over and reads the letter beside the plate with a smile. He eats the cookies and downs the milk. He is about to put down the glass when he spies a message written on the bottom of the glass. It says: ‘You have just been poisoned. Ho, ho, ho.’ Santa drops the glass and it shatters. He turns around and tries to walk, and barely stays on his feet. He stumbles around, and then falls to the ground. We hear footsteps come down the stairs, as Santa passes out. CUT TO: The unfinished basement of the same house. Santa groggily wakes up and finds himself tied to a chair. There is only a single light bulb dangling above Santa’s head.
Santa Oh my…oh my goodness…help! Help! Someone, please!
Eight year old Billy steps out of the shadows.
Billy Santa. Mr. Claus. So good of you to come.
Santa Billy! Billy, you must help me! I think your parents have made a terrible mistake.
Mrs. Jones steps out of the shadows behind her son.
Mrs. Jones Oh, I’m afraid not, St. Nick. I think we caught exactly what we were looking for.
Santa (shocked) Sandra!
Mrs. Jones So… you do remember me.
Santa Oh, but Sandra that was a long time ago…
Mrs. Jones Was it? You think so? It may be almost twenty years now, but it still feels like yesterday.
Santa Sandra…I…I know what you must think of me. But I did what I had to do for the children of Guatemala…
Mrs. Jones So it didn’t matter what they did to me?!
Santa I needed permission to enter their airspace! I would have been shot down if I didn’t bribe that government official!
Mrs. Jones Bribe him?! You mean make all his Christmas dreams come true!
Santa So he wanted a bit of young white meat! There were plenty of little girls who would do anything for Santa!
Mrs. Jones Billy, go upstairs and help yourself to anything in Santa’s sack.
Santa Oh, I don’t know if that’s such-
Mrs. Jones gives Santa a death-like stare.
Santa (timid) The PS3’s are down at the bottom.
Billy runs upstairs.
Santa He was on my good list, too…
Mrs. Jones (slapping Santa) Pipe down, fatty! You and I have unfinished business! I was just a teenager when you took me to that Latin American hellhole! Santa’s special vacation spot, my ass!
Santa (broken down) Look, Sandy, it was a rough time in my life. It was the eighties, everyone had half a pound of snow up one nostril, and a couple lines of pixie dust in the other, me and the Missus weren’t on speaking terms, the elves were striking, and every CIA banana republic was shutting me out…
Mrs. Jones Do you know what they did to me? The amount of church services I had to attend? How many of those religious pamphlets I had to fold?!
Santa I thought they just- Mrs. Jones That too! At least I was tipped for that. Minus your cut…
Santa It went right into the elf’s pension fund, I swear.
Mrs. Jones Oh yes, I’ve heard about that pension fund.
Santa What do you mean?
Mrs. Jones I’ve been keeping an eye on you for years, Mr. Claus, I’m not the only one who has lost their innocence because of your cruel, twisted philanthropy. What about your Chinese sweatshop?
Santa How could you know-
Mrs. Jones Or your crooked labour laws? Feeding union reps to polar bears! Being the Godfather to the son of Mattel’s CEO! I know all your dirty tricks!
Santa But no, that’s impossible! How?
Mrs. Jones I’ve got a spy in your organization. Someone who hates you as much as I do… (to another darkened part of the basement) Show yourself.
A reindeer slowly walks into the light. He just stands there, proud.
Santa (angry) Dasher! You son of a bitch! I’ll kill you! I’m gonna waste your whole family! I’ll eat venison for weeks if I have to!
Mrs. Jones (as she feeds Dasher sugar cubes she took from her pocket) You’re losing your touch, old man. You just don’t know who to trust anymore. This guy told me everything, just for a couple sugar cubes.
Santa You won’t get away with this.
Mrs. Jones Oh, I think I already have. (yelling to the upstairs) Billy! Come back down here!
Santa How could you do this? On Christmas eve, even. And have your son involved!
Mrs. Jones Oh, he’s not just my son…Nick.
Santa What? (dawning on him) Oh, no…
Mrs. Jones You didn’t think I would remember, huh? Up in the sleigh as we flew over the Pacific?
Santa That’s impossible! We…I…used protection!
Mrs. Jones It was Christmas, Santa. A time for miracles.
Billy comes back down the stairs, holding a puppy and a Play Station 3.
Billy Which one should I break first, Mom?
Mrs. Jones Well right now I want you to go tell Santa what you want for Christmas, Billy.
Dasher begins to stamp his hoof in an ominous beat. Billy goes over and sits on Santa’s lap, who is shaking with fright.
Billy I want…vengeance!
Mrs. Jones suddenly starts up a miter saw from another corner of the room. CUT TO: Exterior of the house. Santa (off screen) Ho, ho- noooo! Noooo! Ho, ho, ho…god!
END
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don't trust pigs. they will eat you if you let them. recently they ate a four year old girl in India, who was trying to feed them a sausage. No joke. | |||