Ernest Saves Christmas

Harmony Star:
Hey Ernest, how did it go?

Ernest P. Worell:
It worked great. Victory is at hand. Now we have to move onto what I like to call "Plan B."

Ernest:
I am one with the Yuletide, know what i mean?

Ernest:
What we have here is a failure to accumulate.

Ernest:
[quietly] Santa Claus.

Mary:
What did you say?

Ernest:
His name is Santa Claus!

[children giggle]

Ernest:
That's it. Yuck it up. He happens to be a close, personal friend of mine. Nyah-nyah-nyah-nyah-nyah. Fifth graders think they know everything.

Ernest:
[gesturing to Santa's sack] You better check it out.

Santa Claus:
Why?

Ernest:
Call it... Uh, a fifth sense. Call it a flash of intermission, but I just got this feeling deep down in the heart of my bottom.

Harmony:
There's no such thing! Think about it: a guy who flies around the whole world in one night. It just doesn't quite correspond to the laws of time and travel.

Ernest:
Now, now, now, now, now, it's possible. You take the International Date Line, multiply it by the Time Zones, divided by the accelerated rotation of the earth... uh, carry the 1, and, uh, allowing for the Vernal Equinox on the Tropic of Cancer, he might just pull it off.

Santa Claus:
This is Ernest. I'm Santa Claus.

[odd silence]

Ernest:
Surprised?

Harmony:
Uh, no. No, not - not really.

Film Studio Gate Guard:
[advances towards Ernest's truck to see what is under the tarp in back] I'd better have a look.

Ernest:
[disguised as a snake rancher, reffering to the venomous "snakes" under the tarp] Careful, now... them be "pisin"!

[lunges at the guard, who gasps and winces]

Ernest:
"Pisin" snakes! One minute, you be a strappin' young man like yerself, an' the next...

[imitates a snake's fangs with his fingers]

Ernest:
SNAP!

[swipes his "fangs" at the guard, who again gasps and winces]

Ernest:
Yer dead meat!

Ernest:
You know. I don't tell many people this, but Christmas is just about my favorite time. Ever since I was a little kid, I always felt like it was my own personal holiday.

Ernest:
Ahh, smell those Christmas trees. You can keep your "Channel" Number 5, just give me a whiff of the old lonesome pine. That symbol of brotherly love, that centerpiece that all mankind gathers around to share the cranberry sauce shaped like a can.

Ernest:
No, there's only one person authorized to operate this sack. His big, red, oneness: The Claus.

Harmony:
Ernest, I'm not much of a morning person. Do you think we could just keep it down to a dull roar?