“Hey girls, it’s Black Friday. Let’s go!”

“No thanks, you and Minnie, go ahead. I hate crowds.”

“C’mon Minnie, get ready and let’s go boogie.”

“Naw, I don’t want to get trampled.”

“Well, how about you guys? Frank? George? Mickey?”

“Nope. We are staying here. We are watching old movies and eating turkey sandwiches.”

“You mean none of you old farts want to keep up an American tradition? What the heck is wrong with all of you?”

“Look Wolf. You may call it a tradition, but I call it misery. We just finished Thanksgiving and you are succumbing to the biggest American scam there is: A commercialized Christmas.”

“Yeah, who wants to think about Christmas right now?”

“For sure. What you gonna do? Sit on some drunk Santa’s lap and lie? Tell him you have been good all year?”

“Well, for Pete’s sake. I think you are all getting old.”

“Now you’re talking, Einstein. Hahah. For once you got something right.”

“Ok. I give up. You folks are no fun. Hey where you all going?”

“There’s bingo in the great room. And the prizes are really nice today.”

“Like what?”

“Fruit, nuts, candy and a rutabaga.”

“A rutabaga?”

“Yes, it was left over from dinner yesterday. No one likes rutabagas.”

“What would you do with it, if you won it?”

“Put it in your stocking for Christmas, Wolf.”

“Why you old goat!”

“Come on gang, let’s go win that rutie tootie. Whoever wins it can put it in Wolf’s stocking.”

“Merry Christmas, Wolf.”

Wolf

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