|Disc 2, Track 2|
Christmas Crotchety is the twenty-third prank call in the Crotchety Old Man prank call series
Operator: Good afternoon, Devon Christmas Shop. How can I help you?
Milton: Oh, thank God you've answered! Let me speak to the friggin' idiot that sold me these Christmas lights!
Operator: Excuse me? (laughs)
Milton: Let me speak to the friggin' idiot that sold me these Christmas lights! It was some guy!
Operator: What's the matter with your lights, ma'am?
Milton: I wanna s- I'm not a ma'am! I'm a sir! Put the guy on the phone! I don't have time for this small talk yak-yak!
Operator: He's with a customer. Can you hold just a second, please?
Milton: Yes, I can!
(Milton is put on hold; calm harp music playing)
Hank: This is Hank. Can I help you?
Milton: Hey, moron! Are you the crap-for-brains that sold me these five thousand lights?
Hank: Uh...excuse me, sir?
Milton: They're all defective! I've spent seventeen solid hours stringing up these fifty boxes of little, tedious boogers! I wrapped them all around my tree, plugged them in- absolutely nothing! Nada! Zilcho! Zero! BUPKIS!!!
Hank: What...s-sir, you put all five thousand of those lights on one tree? Um, t-that's too many for one tree.
Milton: Don't you dare tell me what's too many, clerk boy! My left ass cheek has a higher IQ than you! Shut your hole and tell me how to fix these lights!
Hank: Sir, there's no need for you to be rude. Um-
Milton: Don't you tell me how I need to be, you piece of monkey vomit! I'll be however I wanna be!
Hank: With five thousand lights on one outlet, you've probably blown a circuit breaker.
Milton: Oh, great! Now you're a scientist! I don't care what you do! How do I get these lights back in order?!
Hank: Um... are you sure you have electricity going to the tree?
Milton: Well, hold on a second. I'll unscrew one of these little bulbs from the little, bitty socket...
(Milton unscrews the bulb from the socket)
Milton: Okay, I'm gonna stick my tongue in now and-
Hank: What?! Woah!
Milton: (screaming; getting electrocuted)
Hank: My God!
(Milton collapses on the floor)
Milton: Ho, ho, holy (censored)! I just got juiced up with, like, three million volts!
(socket starts sparking)
Milton: Oh my God! It's all starting to arc and spark now!
Hank: Unplug the tree!
Milton: There's smoke coming outta your light set!
Hank: Unplug it, sir!
Hank: Unplug the light!
(socket catches on fire)
Milton: Oh my God! I got a fire! It's on fire!
Hank: Well, put it out! Put out the fire!
Milton: The whole tree's on fire!
Hank: Get something to put it out!
Milton: Hold on, let me get the fire extinguisher! Hold on a minute! (runs off to the fire extinguisher) Oh my God! (grunting) My whole living room is engulfed in flame! Where's my fire extinguisher?! Oh my God, here it is!
(Milton extinguishes the fire and start sighing)
Hank: Is it out?
Milton: Fire's out. You've ruined my house- my tree is a big melted pile of plastic goop! My drapes are on fire. (sniffs) Oh! Even my little kid Chauncey's stocking is burnt to a crisp!
Hank: Oh, no.
Milton: My place is just like The Towering Inferno. What's your-what's- what's your name?
Hank: Um...my name is Hank, sir.
Milton: Hank, I'm coming down there to get revenge on you! In my garage right now, I've got a World War II surplus U.S. Army flamethrower! I'm coming down there- I'm gonna torch your store and burn it to the ground!
Hank: Wait a minute! Wait a minute!
Milton: Then I'm gonna kill that guy you got playing Santa Claus with a hatchet! Here I come! I'm coming down there right now!
Hank: (to other employees) Call the police! Call the police, quick!
(Milton hangs up)