Meanwhile, Mike saunters into his kitchen eating a Pop-Tart and looking for a pair of socks. He's completely naked and a strategically placed kitchen counter conceals his naughty bits. The Evil Baby Sara is sitting in her high chair, silently plotting the world's demise using Cheerios to represent missile sites. Mike stops and stares at the Evil Baby Sara, and the Evil Baby Sara looks at Mike and then slowly her eyes follow his chest hair and rest on his Mikey Meat. Mike looks a bit uncomfortable having his baby daughter checking out his enormous genitalia, and covers himself with a plate. Well, not "himself"...his bad parts. His pork and beans. His Scooby snacks. You know what I mean. Don't make me spell it out.

Over at the Stuckey Bowl, the crew is decorating the alley for the holiday season. Phil runs up and says he has a wowser of a theme for this year's decorating: "Christmas on Jupiter." He thinks they can get some radioactive reindeer and a two-headed Santa Claus that shoots lasers out of his beards. Sometimes I think Kenny's spiking Phil's root beer with crystal meth. It's only a theory, not a fact, so please...no conspiracy emails just yet. A Leonard Prescott enters the alley, looking for the bowling-alley lawyer. He kisses Shirley's hand, which almost makes her blush. Ed walks over to Prescott and tells the guy what a pleasure it is to meet Stuckeyville's biggest philanthropist. I expect the old codger to haul off and whack Ed a good 'un until I realize that "philanderer" and "philanthropist" are not exactly the same thing. One of the two needs to come up with a new name, because I keep getting them mixed up. ["I have the same problem with 'narcoleptic' and 'necrophiliac.'" -- Wing Chun] Anyhoo, Prescott needs an "elf." Y'see, philanthropy is Prescott's game, and he wants to go beyond just helping the various charitable organizations in town; he wants to help each and every individual citizen of Stuckeyville get what he or she wants for Christmas. He wants to sit at a desk and write a check for everyone who's willing to come to him and tell him what he or she needs in order to have a Merry Christmas. Ed asks why the crazy old coot has come to Ed; Prescott's filthy rich and must have a lawyer on retainer. The guy's got thirty-eight lawyers on retainer, but none of them understands what he's trying to do here. He asks Ed to think back and try to remember the best present he ever received. Ed doesn't even have to think...he blurts out that it was the Snoopy Sno-Cone Machine. Ed then sings the Snoopy Sno-Cone Machine jingle that drove parents absolutely mad back in the '70s. Prescott smiles and says that the look of joy on Ed's face says it all. That's the same look he wants to see on the face of every single Stuckeyvillian as he writes them checks for their best presents ever. Ed understands and says, "You've got yourself an elf, Mr. Prescott." I can't begin to count the amount of times I've heard that exact phrase. Except when I hear it, I'm usually presented with a midget woman locked inside a cage in the basement of an adult bookstore.