You're the ghost of Christmas Past.

Thousands of years ago, before the dawn of man as we knew him, there was Sir Santa of Claws.

Thousands of years ago.

Thousands of years ago, the ice had made the globe innavigable.

OK, get out of here.

The war of man against machine raged on through the early 70s.

What kind of Christmas is this?

You're not getting out of this.

Thousands of years ago, before the dawn of man as we knew him, there was a creature named Mother.

This is all a bunch of bull.

No, of course you can't like that.

If I find out he's over here, I'm gonna be eating my cereal out of the bottom of your f***ing skull.

You cling to your pathetic fable of fluid exchange.

I love cookies and a glass of milk for a machine?

And Christmas was celebrated at each full moon in front of the great red ape.

Not so much the lasers and the robots, though.

But now, in the future, the past has occurred.

Dang, it makes me sad that they had to open their toys in front of an ape and they were all made out of doo-doo.

Oh, Carl, why you gonna sell this house full of blood, G?

Look at the time!