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Grinch: [screams and lands in his chair] Nerve of those Whos. Inviting me down there... on such short notice! Even if I wanted to go, my schedule wouldn't allow it! [opens his schedule] "4:00; wallow in self-pity. 4:30; stare into the abyss. 5:00; solve world hunger." Tell no one. "5:30; jazzercise. 6:30; dinner with me." I can't cancel that again. "7:00; wrestle with myself loathing…" I'm booked! Of course, if I bump the loathing to 9:00, I could still be done in time to lay in bed, stare at the ceiling and slip slowly into madness. [beat] But what would I wear? [goes to kitchen, and grab tablecloth, without disturbing items, but returns and knocks off the stuff from the table; poses in the mirror as Max barks] It's not a dress, it's a kilt! [rips off tablecloth] Sicko!


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