Kumar: Hold the fuck on, Reba. Your son can rub his ass on Santa's cock in a minute.
Kumar: Uh, miss, I'm sorry, but I'm not going to let you rape my friend on Christmas Eve.
Kumar: I haven't shaved since you left. Pretty romantic, right? Like Ryan Gosling in "The Notebook."
Maria: Fuck a baby into me.
Harold: You still haven't explained the gay thing.
Kumar: You're not gay, motherfucker.
Harold: At all.
Neil Patrick Harris: Yeah that's something us magicians like to call misdirection. Just a little something I picked up from my man, Clay Aiken.
Kumar: What? Clay Aiken's not gay?
Neil Patrick Harris: Are you kidding me? Clay's the biggest coos hound I know. That guy gets mad gash.
Harold: I shot Santa in the face! He's real! And I shot him in the face.
Wafflebot: They serve pancakes in hell.
Neil Patrick Harris: Look, don't be alarmed... but I'm gonna squirt some lotion on your back in about... 35 seconds.
Gracie: I thought you were gay.
Neil Patrick Harris: I am gay! Gay for that pussy.
Wafflebot: Would you like a waffle, Mr. Harris?
Wafflebot: I hate pancakes.
Mr. Perez: The tree is a cancer, Harold. We have to get rid of it before it kills Christmas.
Harold: Koreans have killed his mother and now his tree. Christmas is ruined.