Christmas Eve IQs

                                    

                                          
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Curt: I want a unicorn for Christmas 
                          
Owen: Be realistic
                          
Curt: I want us both to be mentally stable
                          
Owen: What colour of unicorn would you like?
                          
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Owen: I'm telling Santa I've been very good this year
                          
Curt, quietly: I'm telling him that's due to lack of opportunity
                          
Owen: What was that?
                          
Curt: Nothing, I'm proud of you
                          
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Curt: Owen, why are you holding a knife that's covered in blood?
                          
Owen: It's nearly December and I had been too nice this year
                          
Curt: Huh?
                          
Owen: I'm saving Santa the trip
                          
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Curt, on December first: Owen, what are you doing? Are you okay?
                          
Owen, wearing reindeer antlers: I switched from my regular anxiety to my fancy Christmas anxiety
                          
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Curt: I think your Christmas list grows shorter as you get older because money can't buy the things you want
                          
Owen: Yeah, like a break from the crushing anxiety that plagues my existence
                          
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Owen: My Christmas list is short
                          
Owen: Santa should thank me really, it's so easy to remember
                          
Curt, reading: The souls of those who have wronged me, $1 million in cash, a kitten
                          
Curt: Of course that's memorable, that doesn't make it easy for him
                          
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Curt: Who the hell is that knocking on the door? It's three am on Christmas
                          
Curt: I'll go and check *opens door*
                          
Santa: Hello, is Owen Carvour here?
                          
Owen, from the bedroom: What do you want?
                          
Santa: Your letter concerned me
                          
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Tatiana: Owen, why are you wrapping empty boxes?
                          
Owen: I'm putting them under the tree and every time Curt says something stupid I'll throw one in the fire
                          
Tatiana:
                          
Tatiana: Genius
                          
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Curt: Tati, could I stay with you and Barb for a few days?
                          
Tatiana: Sure, why?
                          
Owen, the previous night: No matter how old you get, an empty wrapping paper tube is always fun to bonk someone on the head with
                          
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Owen: I hope I get run over
                          
Curt: Stop it, it's nearly Christmas
                          
Owen: Fine. I hope I get run over by a reindeer 
                          
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(A/N: Just posted Chapter 1 of a ridiculous xmas thing I wrote called Spies Are Festive. Read for a glimpse into how unhinged my writer brain is✨)