A couple struggles to visit all four of their divorced parents on Christmas Day.

Howard: Boys, I don't want to speak ill of your mother on Christmas, but she's nothing but a common street whore.
Howard: Your grandmother's boyfriend is a first-class ass sniffer! And you can tell him that I said so.
Kate: Cassie! That marker in your mouth, I peed on it!
Gram-Gram: [Thinking of a non-material, spirtual Christmas gift] I could increase the frequency with which I pleasure Milt with my hands and with my mouth!
Brad: I'm sorry, I didn't know there was a ten dollar spending cap.
Howard: Well, maybe if you came home more than once a decade, you'd know crap like that!
Connor: Do you know who I am?
Brad: What?
Connor: Google me bitch! I might be famous one day.
Brad: My childhood was like the Shawshank Redemption, except I didn't have some old, warm, black man to share my story with!
Darryl: Look, Brad. I'm not trying to be your father, you already got one of those. I'm just hoping for a chance to be your friend.
Brad: You were my friend, Darryl. You were my best friend. We grew up together, we rode bikes together, we used to smell each others hands. But now you're sleeping with my mom and it's a little bit weird for me. Can you appreciate that?
Darryl: I never had a sexual thought about your mom until I was 30.
Brad: Can you leave it alone? You can't be my friend anymore. You can't be sleeping with my mom and still be my friend, ok?

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