But, Dad, I just don't understand something. Why won't anyone talk about the Grinch?
[puts stuff inside]
You kids and the Grinch. You see, Cindy, the Grinch is a Who who... well, is actually not a Who. He's... He's more of a…
A what?
Exactly, honey. And he's a What who... doesn't like Christmas. Take a look at his mailbox, sweetie. Not a single Christmas card in or out... ever.
But why?
Well…
Lou, where's my mail?
Lou, I got the wrong mail here!
Lou, I got the wrong mail!
Uh, I'll be right there. Whoop!
We got a problem!
All right. Uh, we'll straighten this out.
[at the back room of the post office with Max by the sorting machine; laughing evilly]
It'll take them years to sort this out. This is his and now it's yours, and this is hers and now it's his! [laughs schemingly] And for the rest of you... [turns around by the sorting machine, then starts throwing everyone's mail in the wrong boxes] ...Jury duty, Jury duty, Jury duty, blackmail, pink slip, chain letter, eviction notice, Jury duty! [throws more mail into the wrong boxes as he emits a light giggle of amusement] Gee-e-e-e-e-eee…!
Would you mind helping me? Take this to the back room, honey. But, be careful of the sorting machine, right?
Yeah.
