Kenny is covering a tree trunk with some fake snow. A big ol' Good Ol' Boy walks over to Kenny and stands in his light. "Who here can sell me a tree?" he asks with a huge "Texas" accent. Kenny stammers that it's his first day and that he can find someone, but Good Ol' Boy interrupts to say that he hasn't got all day. Kenny asks what he'd like. GOB says he "could [big ol' sic] care less." He points at some scrawny tree and asks for that one. Kenny turns back around and notices GOB's huge belt buckle. It says, of course, "Texas," and I think that's the closest to a shout-out that I'm ever going to see here at Mighty Big TV. Kenny knows he can outsmart this big ol' hick, so he whines that he guesses he could sell GOB that tree. "Somin' wrong wid da tree?" Yee-haw! Kenny says that the tree is a bit small and you know that people would judge him with a tree that small. He asks GOB what such a small tree suggests about the owner. "I guess I'd think the guy didn't make much munney." He's wearing a bolo. Kenny says that it's unfortunate, but the truth is that people judge people by the size of their tree. Kenny, Kenny, Kenny. It's not the size of the tree, it's where you hang the ornaments that counts. But of course this GOB is gonna be side-swaggled by this young hustler and asks Kenny to show him the big trees. After loading a Redwood onto the top of this man's SUV, he offers cleaning and removal services for a small price more. "Don't get greedy, son," GOB drawls and then high-tails it into the sunset. Kenny squeals (really, he squeals) that he just sold two hundred and eighty dollars worth of "stuff." "Not even," Cam says as he and the Christmas Tree Boss walk over. Kenny and Cam have to wear these silly Elf hats, but CTB doesn't have to. Another car pulls up and Cam offers to get this one, but CTB says to give his one to Kenny, because, "he's on a roll." I guess one sale is a "roll."

I hear the opening strains of the song for the next scene and I start crying. You have to understand that every time I go home for the holidays there is only one CD allowed in the stereo. It plays all Christmas Eve. It plays during the five-hour gift opening ceremony. It plays at Christmas dinner. It is the Time-Life Classics collection of Christmas hits. It has every single holiday song butchered into complete agony. My least favorite song on the TWO-CD SET is Dolly Parton singing Winter Wonderland. I can name that tune in one note, Bill. And that one note started up. I try very hard every year to escape those hits until that mandatory twenty-four hours of Bing, Dolly, Elvis and Wayne, and friggin' Get Real has to go and make me sit through that horrid song three friggin' days before I have to. My sleigh bells are all in a pinch. Mary is walking though a department store and finds a candleholder. She picks it up. A woman beelines over to her and shouts, "Where did you get that?" Mary checks to make sure that she's not holding either a Pikachu or a Tickle Me Elmo and that it is indeed just a candlestick holder and says, "Right here. I think it's the last one, but you can have it." "Thanks, but I need a hundred." It's MC Lyte. No, I'm not kidding. It's really, really, really MC Lyte. (St. Clare, the patron saint of Television, weeps.) MC Lyte says that she's been picked to throw "one of those millennium parties" as if this is some bizzare thing like these "Raves" they keep hearing the kids talk so much about. Mary asks if it's a corporate party. Lyte As a Rock says it's for a law firm. Mary asks if she has a location. Lyte admits that she hasn't even mailed the invitations. Mary says that she can help because she's a Professional Party Planner and gives MC Lyte a card. Mary says that she can help her without a problem. She slips her day planner and the candlestick holder in her purse. As she turns to leave, Store Security asks to see in her purse. He grabs the candlestick and asks if she has a receipt. Mary looks completely guilty.