"I'll drink to that, save the Duane Reid Reindeer!" , said the Drunken Hassid.

"Hey you, you seem to be at the wrong party, fighting for the wrong cause. This is a private gathering for enraged Santas. What are you doing here? It is Saturday , shouldn't you be davening?" I asked him trying not to get too close as his breath reeked of cheap vodka, "'you are a disgrace to the Jewish race, you are, go home and sleep it off and come back when you remember who you are suppposed to be fighting for. The HOME DEPOT ELVES, you twit."