Frosty Returns

Miss Carbunkle:
Snow belongs in its proper places: mountain tops, poetry and songs by Bing Crosby!

Holly:
Don't leave, Frosty.

Frosty:
Don't worry, kid, I'll be back. Just give me some time to find a new bowtie. This time no Polka dots, maybe green or blue. I like blue. Brings out my eyes.

Charles:
He must have snow confused with chili dogs. Any other questions?

Frosty:
What do you say we find a safer place to talk, like Syberia?

Holly:
This is my friend Charles.

Frosty:
Nice to meet you. I take it he doesn't dance... Doesn't blink much either.

Miss Carbunkle:
It's no winter wonderland when you're skidding into a telephone pole!

Holly:
What are you looking for?

Charles:
Batteries.

Frosty:
Face it, kid, there are some things that can't be explained like rhythym.

Mr. Twitchell:
Stop the car! Stop the car... And stop the music!

Miss Carbunkle:
Quiet down, now, quiet down! Where do you think you are, MTV?

Mr. Twitchell:
Removing snow's a breeze with one blast of Summer Wheeze. I want those words printed on billboards, buses, large dogs!

Holly:
Don't get upset, Frosty.

Frosty:
Upset? Upset is waking up and realizing somebody forgot to give you a bellybutton. Upset is realizing somebody took your nose to play foosball. This ain't upset, kid. This is panic! I'm two squirts from being history!

Narrator:
I've been going to the winter carnival since I was knee-high to a snow cone.

Frosty:
You better think fast, guys, or else I'm going back to the North Pole in a bowl.

Frosty:
One friend is a lot different than no friends. One friend is plenty.