And for the third week in a row, it was raining too hard to play.
Banta: Well, Santa, what do you want to do now?
Santa: Badminton?
Banta: Nah.
Santa: Shoot some pool?
Banta: Nah.
Santa: Cards?
Banta: Nah. Hey, I've got an idea. We can go over to my house and fool around with my wife, Preeto.
Santa: What do you mean?
Banta: Just what I said. We'll go to my house and we can fool around with my wife.
Santa: What about me?
Banta: She's a sport. She won't mind at all.
Santa: Well... if you think it's okay...
At Banta's house
Banta: Preeto, I'm home. Sweetheart! Damn! She must have gone shopping. Tell you what, Santa, Let's go to your house!
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