KATE:

Well, everyone in Mopeyville is happy with Christmas cheer and fun tonight, for as Mopeyville goes ... so go ... Bud Abbott and Lou Costello.

LOU:

(SINGS) "Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the day.
Three more days till Christmas, and then what bills to pay."

BUD:

Costello, you're certainly in a happy mood. I suppose you're all through with your Christmas shopping. Hey! What's that string tied around your finger for?

LOU:

That's to remind me to remind my wife to ask me if I forgot something she told me to remember.

BUD:

Which reminds me. I forgot to get my wife a nutcracker.

LOU:

What kind? Flat iron or rolling pin?

BUD:

Talk sense. What did you forget?

LOU:

A present for my Uncle Bumble Bee.

BUD:

What a name. Uncle Bumble Bee.

LOU:

Yeah. That's because everybody he touches gets stung. I'm gonna buy him a shaving brush and a razor.

BUD:

Has he got a mug?

LOU:

Oh, boy! You should see her.

BUD:

Well, all I need now is my Christmas turkey.

LOU:

Abbott, was I lucky! I got a turkey for running.

BUD:

Who did you beat?

LOU:

The butcher and two policemen.

BUD:

Costello, you'll end up by spending Christmas in the police station.

LOU:

Well, that's all right in a pinch. Hey, Abbott, come over to the house Christmas and eat some turkey.

BUD:

Why should I have to eat turkey on Christmas? Maybe I'd like chicken.

LOU:

I haven't got any chicken. I got turkey.

BUD:

Well, is that my fault? Why didn't you ask me what I'd like before you invited me over? If I want chicken, why should you force me to eat turkey?

LOU:

Who's forcing you to eat turkey? Don't eat it.

BUD:

I see. Now I shouldn't eat it. I should go hungry while you stuff yourself.

LOU:

Who wants you to go hungry? Aw, I'll go out and steal a chicken.

BUD:

And what happens to the turkey?

LOU:

I'll give it to the dog.

BUD:

That's fine. You feed the dog turkey and want me to eat chicken.

LOU:

Look, Abbott, what do you keep arguing for? Look at me. I'm congenial.

BUD:

Oh, now you're using an assumed name. Who are you to travel incognito?

LOU:

Who's traveling in magneto? I ain't using a consumed name. I use my own name. You can find it on my front door.

BUD:

Why should I look for your name? I know what it is.

LOU:

Then don't look for it.

BUD:

I see. I shouldn't look for your name. I should walk into somebody else's house by mistake and get shot for a burglar.

LOU:

Ah, I don't want you to get shot. I'm trying to tell you, you're welcome at my house. The door is always open for you.

BUD:

Now, you're going to leave the door open. You want me to sit in a draft and catch cold.

LOU:

Who wants you to catch cold! I'll close the door. I'll lock the door.

BUD:

And what am I supposed to do, crawl in the window?

LOU:

What do you mean, crawl in the window? I'll bring you into the house.

BUD:

Oh, you'll bring me in. What's the matter, don't you think I can walk? Do you expect me to come over inebriated?

LOU:

Who cares if you're inebriated? You don't have to be inebriated. You can wear anything you want. I just want you to have some nice young turkey.

BUD:

How do you know it's a young turkey? How can you tell a turkey's age?

LOU:

By the teeth.

BUD:

A turkey has no teeth.

LOU:

No, but I have.

BUD:

Is the turkey dressed?

LOU:

Did you ever see a turkey running around the streets without any clothes on? Certainly it's dressed. It has on a suit of feathers.

BUD:

If it has feathers on, then it isn't dressed.

LOU:

How do you like that? If it has feathers, it isn't dressed. Look; I'm talking about a turkey, not a fan dancer.

BUD:

So am I talking about a turkey, and if it has feathers on, it isn't dressed.

LOU:

Well, what do you want it to wear, a shirt waist and panties, or do you want me to take it to my tailor and say, "Make my turkey a cutaway suit, he's going out for Christmas dinner"?

BUD:

That's not necessary. I thought maybe the butcher dressed the turkey.

LOU:

That's ridiculous. Do you think the butcher has time to put clothes on animals?

BUD:

No.

LOU:

Do you think he says to his customers, "How would you like your turkey dressed, as Snow White or one of the Seven Dwarfs"?

BUD:

You don't understand. When I say, "Is the turkey dressed?" I don't mean, is the turkey dressed?

LOU:

No? What do you mean?

BUD:

I mean, is the turkey dressed?

LOU:

Ah, this thing is getting too complicated for me. I shoulda stole a hot dog.

BUD:

Then why did you steal the turkey in the first place?

LOU:

Who stole it in the first place? I had to try three places before I got it.

BUD:

Well, what I'm trying to find out is this: Did you pick its feathers?

LOU:

Did I pick its feathers! I never saw the turkey before. Do you think I know the style in turkey feathers? It picked its own feathers.

BUD:

That's impossible. It couldn't pick its own feathers.

LOU:

All right, then its mother chose them for it.

BUD:

Costello, when I say, "Pick its feathers," I don't mean pick its feathers.

LOU:

I know. You mean, pick its feathers. This thing gets sillier all the time.

BUD:

There's nothing silly about it. You've got to pick its feathers. They're good for quills.

LOU:

Well, who's got quills. I haven't been sick a day in 5 years.

BUD:

Costello, I'm trying to tell you that you can't cook that turkey with its feathers on.

LOU:

Are you kidding?

BUD:

Certainly not. You've got to pick the feathers.

LOU:

I'll let my wife pick them. She picks everything else I get.

BUD:

Does she pick your clothes?

LOU:

Only the pockets.

BUD:

That's fine. You get mad if your wife picks your pockets, but it's all right for you to steal a turkey. You don't care if the mama and papa turkey sit in their coop all day on Christmas and cry because you're having their baby turkey for dinner.

LOU:

I'm a bad boy.

BUD:

You are a bad boy.

LOU:

I'm the kind of boy my mother don't want me to associate with.

BUD:

You bet you are.

LOU:

I shouldn't be allowed to carve the turkey on Christmas.

BUD:

You won't be allowed. I'll carve the turkey. I'll hand out the portions.

LOU:

Then I'll probably end up with the wishbone.

BUD:

What's the matter with the wishbone? It's lucky.

LOU:

Yeah? Well, the turkey had it, and it didn't do him any good.

BUD:

Keep quiet while I figure out how I'll serve the turkey. Now, I'll take the two legs.

LOU:

Look, Abbott, I'd like to have one of the legs.

BUD:

Sure, the turkey only has two legs, and you want a leg. You're the most selfish person I've ever met.

LOU:

Oh, I'm a wanton.

BUD:

What do you mean, you're a wanton?

LOU:

I'm a wanton one of those turkey legs.

BUD:

Never mind that. I'll take the two legs. My wife will take the two wings....

LOU:

Well, could I sit under the table and pick up the crumbs?

BUD:

I'll take care of your share later. Let me see. That's the two legs and wings, and your wife will take the white meat, your uncle the heart and liver.

LOU:

Look, Abbott, could I lick the plate? I gotta come out of this with something.

BUD:

Will you stop butting in! Now, that takes care of the legs, wings, white meat, heart, liver and oh, yes, your mother-in-law gets the neck and giblets, and you...

LOU:

Aw, never mind me. I'll sit on the fence and grab mine as it goes by!

MUSIC:

CHORD. [...]