— This way it's dark then.
— Yeah, kids are scared of the dark.
— You're afraid of the dark too.
This house is so full of people it makes me sick! When I grow up and get married, I'm living alone! I'm living alone!
How low! Giving Kriss Kringle a parking ticket on Christmas Eve! What's next, rabies shots for the Easter Bunny?
Bless this nutritious, microwaveable macaroni and cheese dinner and the people who sold it on sale.
— I know you're not the real Santa Claus.
— Huh, what makes you say that? Just out of curiosity.
— I'm old enough to know how it works. But I also know you work for him. I'd like you to give him a message.
— Shoot.
— Kevin McCallister, 681 Lincoln Blvd. Do you need the phone number?
— No, that's all right.
— This is extremely important. Please tell him instead of presents, I just want my family back. No toys. Nothing but Peter, Kate, Buzz, Megan, Linnie and Jeff. And my aunt and my cousins. And if he has time, my Uncle Frank. Okay?
There are 15 people, and only you have to make trouble. <...> You're the only one acting up.
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