How the Grinch Stole Christmas2001

Grinch:
[screams] Nerve of those Whos. Inviting me down there... on such short notice! Even if I wanted to go, my schedule wouldn't allow it! [opens his schedule] "4:00; Wallow in self-pity, 4:30; Stare into the abyss, 5:00; Solve world hunger." Tell no one. "5:30; (Jazz and exercise, or a.k.a.) Jazzercise. 6:30; Dinner with me." I can't cancel that again. "7:00; Wrestle with myself loathing…" I'm booked! Of course, if I bump the loathing to 9, I could still be done in time to lay in bed, stare at the ceiling and slip slowly into madness… but what would I wear?! [goes to kitchen, and grab tablecloth, without disturbing items, but returns and knocks off the stuff from the table; poses in the mirror as Max barks] It's not a dress, it's a kilt! [rips off tablecloth] Sicko! [rummaging through clothes] Stupid! Ugly! Out of date! This is ridiculous! If I can't find something nice to wear, I'm not going! [hears a yodeler and mugs him for his lederhosen] Ohh. Ahh. Mmm. That's it, I'm not going.