1 "A Christmas Story"
"'Morning."
"'Morning, yourself."
"Where's Dad?"
"No idea. I'm guessing not here."
"It's—"
"Hey, don't look at me, I just live here. Rose said he left a few hours ago, didn't say when he'd be back."
"Rose is working today?"
"Yes."
"You made people work today?"
"I—"
"Did you at least give them tomorrow off?"
"They're not mine to give days off! Besides, I'm not the world's most mobile person. I need somebody to help me out."
"You have me."
"Oh, and you're so useful."
"Tomorrow's Christmas."
"Fine. Give everybody the day off. You'd just better be ready to fetch and carry for me."
"What if I don't?"
"My crutches have deadly throwing accuracy. I could kill an antelope with these things."
"Yes, but then you've given me a weapon."
"It's only a weapon if you're conscious enough to use it."
"Good point. All right, I'll help you out tomorrow. That'll be another one of your Christmas presents."
"You cooking breakfast instead of Jean? Yeah, Merry Christmas to me."
"Cooking?"
"Okay, making toast."
"I'll take you out for breakfast."
"Deal. It better be expensive."
*
"Hey!"
"What!"
"Come here!"
"What?"
"Come *here*!"
"*What*?"
"'A Christmas Story' is on. It's some marathon type of thing. '24 Hours of "A Christmas Story".'"
"You were yelling at me for that?"
"I couldn't go and get you."
"I'm next door. You're injured, not crippled."
"Do you remember? Mom would rent this every year and I'd hide my eyes whenever it got time for the tongue thing."
"You still do."
"I do… okay, yes, I do, but it's so gross."
"Grandmother's looking for you."
"Uchh."
"What's she going to do to you this year?"
"Well, last year it was holly leaves and berries. Year before that, it was a huge poinsettia flower. I can only assume that this year it's going to be one of those candle wreaths."
"Why do you let her do this every year?"
"'Let her'? The only reason she doesn't subject you to this humiliation is because you don't have any hair."
"Plus, men really can't get away with wreaths."
"The party doesn't even start for another three hours, and she's going to put wax on my head, and you just laugh at me. I could file for child abuse."
"You don't know it's candles. Maybe she'll…"
"Maybe she'll get creative with Christmas tree ornaments?"
"You know, that might look good. Little bulbs and maybe a string of lights."
"Just as long as they aren't the blinking ones. Oh, this is my favorite part."
"'Fra-jee-le. Must be Italian.'"
"'I think that says "fragile", honey.'"
"'Oh, yeah.'"
"You know, if someone ever got me a lamp like that, I'd—actually, I really think I would put it in my front window."
"You live in a penthouse. You don't *have* a front window."
"Every party needs a pooper."
"So *that's* why you invited me."
"Hey! You've got your stuff on. We've got time."
"Dad's probably going to insist I leave early with him."
"Well, he's hosting this, not you."
"Lilly. I'm the heir to the Luthor fortune, scion of the wealthiest man in Metropolis and possibly the free world, expected to take his place in the fullness of time and lead LuthorCorp to still greater heights."
"And…?"
"Nothing. Sometimes I just like to say that."
"Heh."
"Uh-oh. I think I hear Grandmother calling for you."
"Shut the door, shut the door!"
"You don't think she's going to check your bedroom?"
"Not if you shut the door. And barricade it."
Brief silence. Television noise. "So do *you* want a an official Red Rider carbine action 200 shot range model air rifle for Christmas?"
"It's Christmas Eve, I should hope you've already gotten me my presents."
"You just said 'presents'."
"Yeah."
"I thought we agreed to get each other just one present."
"No, I said that I was getting *you* just one present. You, being the older brother, are obligated to get me at least three presents."
"When did that start?"
"Since I broke my leg and became a princess."
"Ah. Whups, that's Grandmother again. I'll go open the door for you—"
"Lex!"
"Have fun. See you in a few hours."
"I'm burning your present!"
*
"Come in."
"Are you—wow."
"I know."
"Well… Well. It's not candles."
"True. Instead of having hair that's on fire, I just *wish* someone would set it on fire."
"At least—there's really nothing I can say that's going to make you feel better."
"People are going to point."
"And most likely laugh."
"Thanks for the support."
"Really, it looks fine."
"It looks stupid."
"It doesn't look stupid."
"I have pinecones on my head."
"But you don't have to worry about how you smell."
"Such a comfort. Hand me the remote, I want to turn the movie back on."
"Have you done your makeup yet?"
"I'm going to now." Silence. "Are you going to *watch* me?"
"I've always been fascinated by the process. I remember an anthropology class I took, last year. The professor said that women of the modern Western world use makeup in the same way that soldiers use armor. Not just for protection or concealment, but for confidence."
"Your professor is master of the obvious."
"Which—"
"Hold on. This part's great."
"Trust you to like the one scene with physical violence."
"It makes me feel better about all the times I've been bullied by you."
"When have I ever bullied you?"
"Any number of times. But I've always taken comfort in my natural superiority."
"Remember who knows what 'phrenology' means."
"I know what it means."
"I knew before you."
"You had a four year head start on intellectual development."
"Three and a half. And if you were really determined, you could have caught up by now."
"What are we arguing about?"
"I'm trying to bully you."
"Shut up and give me my purse."
"Where is it?"
"Over there on the chair. Under the dress."
"Nice dress."
"I'm going to roast."
"Well, you're not going to be doing much exercise, so you'll be fine. Here."
"Thanks."
"What's in that?"
"In this?"
"Yeah."
"It's a lipstick case."
"You have a special case just for lipstick?"
"After all these years, I would have thought you were an expert on women, Lex."
"Well, there are certain doors that are closed to me. Does this mean you have specialized cases for everything?"
"No, just the lipstick."
"Really."
"Really. Didn't you ever see Mom do this?"
"She never let me watch her get ready for parties."
"She let me."
"You're a girl."
"Was she afraid it would scar your psyche?"
"I think Dad was worried it would give me ideas."
"Dammit. That should've been my line."
"He wanted to know why I wasn't bringing someone."
"He didn't ask me."
"Well, there haven't been rumors floating around about your sexual preference."
"Hm. Maybe I should think about joining the school rugby team. Get a little scandalous."
"You'd have more luck joining the crew team. From what I've heard about your school."
"I won't even ask about the source. So, speaking of sexual preferences. What's Clark doing for Christmas?"
"Probably wassailing around Smallville and baking cookies for Santa."
"He seems like the type."
"You've never met him."
"Yet I already feel like he's my brother-in-law."
"I'm going to get my jacket."
"We still have an hour."
"I just want an excuse to leave in a huff."
"Oh. Then by all means."
*
"Come in."
"Are you ready?"
"Almost. I have to get my earrings in."
"You look nice. Red's your color."
"Thanks. You look good, too. Although the handkerchief's a little jaunty."
"It's Christmas Eve."
"And this is the one time of year to pay tribute to Santa Claus, but maybe you shouldn't have his head poking out of your breast pocket."
"It matches my socks."
"Ooh, I'm sold now."
"And my boxers."
"Ew. Ew, and I didn't need to know that. Change your handkerchief. And your socks."
"My boxers, too?"
"Shut… up! And I don't care, and ew. And change them before Dad sees you."
"Wait a minute. I love this part."
"The bunny outfit? Is there something you want to tell me?"
"I never went to *that* kind of club. No, I mean this…"
"…Awww. Ralphie gets his heart's desire."
"And then shoots his eye out."
"Well, that's a valuable lesson about getting what you want."
"No, it isn't. It's a valuable lesson about knowing how to use what you have."
"Trust you to turn this movie into a Machiavellian… something."
"It's true! He's spent the entire movie begging for this one thing, and now that he's got it, he doesn't know what to do. He ends up not only hurting himself, but destroying one of his most valuable tools, which he'd taken for granted throughout the movie but which enables him to function in normal society."
"You mean his glasses?"
"Yes."
Silence. "Huh."
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You're looking at me—"
"Like lobsters are coming out of your ears?"
"Something like that, yes."
"You just… I'm wondering what kind of mob boss you'd make."
"I'd never be a mob boss."
"It's because they wear pinstripe, isn't it?"
"Pretty much. Okay, the movie's over. Let's go."
"First, go change your handkerchief."
"Fine."
"'Morning."
"'Morning, yourself."
"Where's Dad?"
"No idea. I'm guessing not here."
"It's—"
"Hey, don't look at me, I just live here. Rose said he left a few hours ago, didn't say when he'd be back."
"Rose is working today?"
"Yes."
"You made people work today?"
"I—"
"Did you at least give them tomorrow off?"
"They're not mine to give days off! Besides, I'm not the world's most mobile person. I need somebody to help me out."
"You have me."
"Oh, and you're so useful."
"Tomorrow's Christmas."
"Fine. Give everybody the day off. You'd just better be ready to fetch and carry for me."
"What if I don't?"
"My crutches have deadly throwing accuracy. I could kill an antelope with these things."
"Yes, but then you've given me a weapon."
"It's only a weapon if you're conscious enough to use it."
"Good point. All right, I'll help you out tomorrow. That'll be another one of your Christmas presents."
"You cooking breakfast instead of Jean? Yeah, Merry Christmas to me."
"Cooking?"
"Okay, making toast."
"I'll take you out for breakfast."
"Deal. It better be expensive."
*
"Hey!"
"What!"
"Come here!"
"What?"
"Come *here*!"
"*What*?"
"'A Christmas Story' is on. It's some marathon type of thing. '24 Hours of "A Christmas Story".'"
"You were yelling at me for that?"
"I couldn't go and get you."
"I'm next door. You're injured, not crippled."
"Do you remember? Mom would rent this every year and I'd hide my eyes whenever it got time for the tongue thing."
"You still do."
"I do… okay, yes, I do, but it's so gross."
"Grandmother's looking for you."
"Uchh."
"What's she going to do to you this year?"
"Well, last year it was holly leaves and berries. Year before that, it was a huge poinsettia flower. I can only assume that this year it's going to be one of those candle wreaths."
"Why do you let her do this every year?"
"'Let her'? The only reason she doesn't subject you to this humiliation is because you don't have any hair."
"Plus, men really can't get away with wreaths."
"The party doesn't even start for another three hours, and she's going to put wax on my head, and you just laugh at me. I could file for child abuse."
"You don't know it's candles. Maybe she'll…"
"Maybe she'll get creative with Christmas tree ornaments?"
"You know, that might look good. Little bulbs and maybe a string of lights."
"Just as long as they aren't the blinking ones. Oh, this is my favorite part."
"'Fra-jee-le. Must be Italian.'"
"'I think that says "fragile", honey.'"
"'Oh, yeah.'"
"You know, if someone ever got me a lamp like that, I'd—actually, I really think I would put it in my front window."
"You live in a penthouse. You don't *have* a front window."
"Every party needs a pooper."
"So *that's* why you invited me."
"Hey! You've got your stuff on. We've got time."
"Dad's probably going to insist I leave early with him."
"Well, he's hosting this, not you."
"Lilly. I'm the heir to the Luthor fortune, scion of the wealthiest man in Metropolis and possibly the free world, expected to take his place in the fullness of time and lead LuthorCorp to still greater heights."
"And…?"
"Nothing. Sometimes I just like to say that."
"Heh."
"Uh-oh. I think I hear Grandmother calling for you."
"Shut the door, shut the door!"
"You don't think she's going to check your bedroom?"
"Not if you shut the door. And barricade it."
Brief silence. Television noise. "So do *you* want a an official Red Rider carbine action 200 shot range model air rifle for Christmas?"
"It's Christmas Eve, I should hope you've already gotten me my presents."
"You just said 'presents'."
"Yeah."
"I thought we agreed to get each other just one present."
"No, I said that I was getting *you* just one present. You, being the older brother, are obligated to get me at least three presents."
"When did that start?"
"Since I broke my leg and became a princess."
"Ah. Whups, that's Grandmother again. I'll go open the door for you—"
"Lex!"
"Have fun. See you in a few hours."
"I'm burning your present!"
*
"Come in."
"Are you—wow."
"I know."
"Well… Well. It's not candles."
"True. Instead of having hair that's on fire, I just *wish* someone would set it on fire."
"At least—there's really nothing I can say that's going to make you feel better."
"People are going to point."
"And most likely laugh."
"Thanks for the support."
"Really, it looks fine."
"It looks stupid."
"It doesn't look stupid."
"I have pinecones on my head."
"But you don't have to worry about how you smell."
"Such a comfort. Hand me the remote, I want to turn the movie back on."
"Have you done your makeup yet?"
"I'm going to now." Silence. "Are you going to *watch* me?"
"I've always been fascinated by the process. I remember an anthropology class I took, last year. The professor said that women of the modern Western world use makeup in the same way that soldiers use armor. Not just for protection or concealment, but for confidence."
"Your professor is master of the obvious."
"Which—"
"Hold on. This part's great."
"Trust you to like the one scene with physical violence."
"It makes me feel better about all the times I've been bullied by you."
"When have I ever bullied you?"
"Any number of times. But I've always taken comfort in my natural superiority."
"Remember who knows what 'phrenology' means."
"I know what it means."
"I knew before you."
"You had a four year head start on intellectual development."
"Three and a half. And if you were really determined, you could have caught up by now."
"What are we arguing about?"
"I'm trying to bully you."
"Shut up and give me my purse."
"Where is it?"
"Over there on the chair. Under the dress."
"Nice dress."
"I'm going to roast."
"Well, you're not going to be doing much exercise, so you'll be fine. Here."
"Thanks."
"What's in that?"
"In this?"
"Yeah."
"It's a lipstick case."
"You have a special case just for lipstick?"
"After all these years, I would have thought you were an expert on women, Lex."
"Well, there are certain doors that are closed to me. Does this mean you have specialized cases for everything?"
"No, just the lipstick."
"Really."
"Really. Didn't you ever see Mom do this?"
"She never let me watch her get ready for parties."
"She let me."
"You're a girl."
"Was she afraid it would scar your psyche?"
"I think Dad was worried it would give me ideas."
"Dammit. That should've been my line."
"He wanted to know why I wasn't bringing someone."
"He didn't ask me."
"Well, there haven't been rumors floating around about your sexual preference."
"Hm. Maybe I should think about joining the school rugby team. Get a little scandalous."
"You'd have more luck joining the crew team. From what I've heard about your school."
"I won't even ask about the source. So, speaking of sexual preferences. What's Clark doing for Christmas?"
"Probably wassailing around Smallville and baking cookies for Santa."
"He seems like the type."
"You've never met him."
"Yet I already feel like he's my brother-in-law."
"I'm going to get my jacket."
"We still have an hour."
"I just want an excuse to leave in a huff."
"Oh. Then by all means."
*
"Come in."
"Are you ready?"
"Almost. I have to get my earrings in."
"You look nice. Red's your color."
"Thanks. You look good, too. Although the handkerchief's a little jaunty."
"It's Christmas Eve."
"And this is the one time of year to pay tribute to Santa Claus, but maybe you shouldn't have his head poking out of your breast pocket."
"It matches my socks."
"Ooh, I'm sold now."
"And my boxers."
"Ew. Ew, and I didn't need to know that. Change your handkerchief. And your socks."
"My boxers, too?"
"Shut… up! And I don't care, and ew. And change them before Dad sees you."
"Wait a minute. I love this part."
"The bunny outfit? Is there something you want to tell me?"
"I never went to *that* kind of club. No, I mean this…"
"…Awww. Ralphie gets his heart's desire."
"And then shoots his eye out."
"Well, that's a valuable lesson about getting what you want."
"No, it isn't. It's a valuable lesson about knowing how to use what you have."
"Trust you to turn this movie into a Machiavellian… something."
"It's true! He's spent the entire movie begging for this one thing, and now that he's got it, he doesn't know what to do. He ends up not only hurting himself, but destroying one of his most valuable tools, which he'd taken for granted throughout the movie but which enables him to function in normal society."
"You mean his glasses?"
"Yes."
Silence. "Huh."
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You're looking at me—"
"Like lobsters are coming out of your ears?"
"Something like that, yes."
"You just… I'm wondering what kind of mob boss you'd make."
"I'd never be a mob boss."
"It's because they wear pinstripe, isn't it?"
"Pretty much. Okay, the movie's over. Let's go."
"First, go change your handkerchief."
"Fine."