"Oh, no," he gasps," Preeto will kill me!!"
"Don't worry, pal," Santa replies. "Just tuck fifty bucks in your breast pocket and tell Preeto that someone threw up on you and gave you twenty dollars for the dry cleaning bill."
So they stay another couple hours getting steadily drunker. Eventually Banta rolls home.
Preeto immediate starts on him, "You reek of alcohol and you puked all over yourself!" she screams. "My God, you are disgusting!"
"Nowainaminit," says Banta, speaking very carefully so as not to slur, "I can e'splain everything! Itsh not what you thinks, I only had a couple drinks! But this Santa got sick on me. He'd had one too many and cou'n't hold his liquor! He said he was sorry an' gave me fifty bucks for the cleaning bill!"
Preeto looks in his breast pocket, "But this is hundred bucks!" she exclaims.
"Oh yea..." says Banta. "I almos' forgot! He shit in my pants, too."
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