The Meaning of Christmas – A Comedy Sketch

I actually wrote this a couple of years ago, but it never fails to make me laugh, so I thought I’d post it here. Now, if y’all will excuse me for a minute, I need to talk to my mom. Mom, this is not intended to be at all autobiographical so please don’t get offended at anything in here, okay? ‘Kay. Love you.

OPEN on a cozy Christmas scene, with two couples, one in their late 50s the other in their early 30s, sitting together sipping eggnog.

MOM: So how was the show?

DAUGHTER: You mean church? How was church?

MOM: Well, you know. With the decorations, the candles, the singing… it’s all the same, really.

DAUGHTER: The service was very nice, thank you. Just the thing to kick off a nice holiday.

DAD: Right. Just in case Christmas has anything to do with the church anymore.

DAUGHTER: Excuse me?

Her HUSBAND pats her knee comfortingly. DAD downs the last of his eggnog.

DAD: It’s about the money. That’s all it is.

DAUGHTER: The money.

Dad: Sure. Those Christians just needed another reason to suck money out of everyone’s pockets. So they invented a holiday, threw in another service…

MOM: Fill the church with mood lighting, sing some pretty songs, give everyone a little wine…

DAUGHTER: That’s communion wine!

DAD: Whatever. It all adds up to some wide open pockets.

DAUGHTER: And the whole birth of Christ thing…

MOM: Just an excuse to fleece the congregation.

DAD: If you ask me, that whole story probably started when some disciple found himself with a problem on his hands… virgin pregnant with the son of God sounds a whole lot better than knocked up teenaged whore when you’re trying to get someone a husband.

DAUGHTER finishes her cup in one gulp, then reaches for her husband’s glass and drains it.

DAUGHTER: Looks like we’re ready for a refill. Anyone else?

MOM: Oh, I’ll get it. You’re having such a nice talk with your father.

MOM leaves room, humming “We wish you a Merry Christmas” under her breath.

DAD: Just as an example… how much did you give tonight, Dudley?

HUSBAND: It’s Bradley.

DAD: Sorry about that. I’ll get it one of these days. You’ve been married such a short time.

DAUGHTER: Yep. Eight years. The blink of an eye, really.

DAD: That long? And still no grandchildren? Dudley, you should get yourself checked out. There might be something wrong.

DAUGHTER: DAD!

DAD: Well, you know, procreating is part of your Christian duty!

DAUGHTER: How would you know, Dad? You’re an atheist.

DAD: Oh, I know all about that Christianity stuff. Don’t kill your neighbor…

MOM enters room, bearing tray with eggnog, and begins handing them out.

MOM: Unless they’re Muslim!

DAD: And honor thy mother and father.

MOM: Unless they spend your inheritance before they die. Then you get to shoot ‘em.

DAD: Oh and let’s not forget—don’t covet thy neighbor’s wife…

MOM: But his children are fair game.

DAUGHTER: Alright, you guys. That’s enough. Can’t we just have a nice Christmas Eve for once?

DAD: Sure. Wouldn’t want to ruin what that nice church of yours started.

DAD gets up and stands in front of her, hand out.

DAUGHTER: What are you doing?

DAD: Waiting for you to pay me.

DAUGHTER: What, for the sheer pleasure of your company?

DAD: Well, money’s what Christmas is about, isn’t it? And we’ve given you a comfortable chair, some good alcohol…

MOM: There’s pumpkin pie in the kitchen!

DAD: And there’s pumpkin pie in the kitchen. I think that should be worth double what you gave that church of yours.

DAUGHTER Fine. Hang on a sec.

DAUGHTER slams out of the room.

There is an uncomfortable silence.

DAD: So, Dudley, how are things in that critter clinic of yours? Cut off any balls lately?

HUSBAND: No, but we’re having a post-holiday special next week. Maybe you should come in…. You could even bring the dogs.

DAD: (Surprised Laugh) Right, maybe I will.

Uncomfortable silence lengthens. DAUGHTER re-enters the room, towing an unkempt looking older man.

MOM: Samantha? Who’s your friend?

DAUGHTER: This is Jack.

MOM: And Jack is here because…

DAUGHTER pulls out her checkbook and begins writing.

DAUGHTER: Well, because I’m about to give Dad double what I gave the church. And the church is supposed to use our money to help the less fortunate. So I thought you two might like to use what I’m giving you…

Walks over and slaps the check in her stunned father’s hand.

DAUGHTER: To help poor Jack here.

JACK holds his hand out to MOM.

JACK: It’s nice to finally meet you…. I admire your shoes every morning when you walk past my alley.

MOM gingerly shakes his hand.

MOM: Is that the coat I threw out last year?

JACK: Probably. Red is my color, isn’t it?

MOM: Why is he here again?

DAUGHTER: Well, you’re much better people than the Christians, right? So why don’t you use my money to give Jack a nice hot meal—and maybe a bed for the night?

JACK: Oh, are y’all Jewish?

HUSBAND: No, they’re atheists.

JACK: Oh. Atheists. Well, that’s a relief.

DAD: A relief? Why?

The doorbell rings as Jack pulls a gun.

JACK: Well, I’d feel bad about this if Christmas meant something to y’all, but since it doesn’t… well, God would want me and mine to have your stuff. The meek shall inherit the earth and all that.

He opens the door and a parade of homeless men enters. A few break off from the pack and approach the family, who squawk and yell as they begin to tie them up. The others begin dismantling the room, TV, stereo, Christmas tree and all.

MOM: This is all your fault, Jerry!

DAD: My fault? How is it my fault?

MOM: All those things you were saying. You made God angry!

DAUGHTER: Oh, now you believe in God?

MOM: I never said I didn’t believe in God.

DAD: What? Yes, you did, just now.

MOM: No, I didn’t. You just assumed, Jerry. You always assume!

JACK: Would the four of you shut the hell up! You’re ruining my holiday!

A homeless man gags them with duct tape as the lights go down.

THE END

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