A Christmas Story

Mr. Parker:
What is the name of the Lone Ranger's nephew's horse?

Mother:
Ah... Victor! His name is Victor.

Mr. Parker:
How the hell did you know that?

Mother:
Everybody knows that!

Ralphie as Adult:
My little brother had not eaten voluntarily in over three years.

Ralphie as Adult:
Only one thing in the world could've dragged me away from the soft glow of electric sex gleaming in the window.

Ralphie:
I want an official Red Ryder, carbine action, two-hundred shot range model air rifle!

Mrs. Parker:
No, you'll shoot your eye out.

Mr. Parker:
Where's the glue?

Mother:
We're out of glue.

Mr. Parker:
You used up all the glue on purpose!

Narrator:
I have since heard of people under extreme duress speaking in strange tongues. I became conscious that a steady torrent of obscenities and swearing of all kinds was pouring out of me as I screamed.

Narrator:
Meanwhile, I struggled for exactly the right BB gun hint. It had to be firm, but subtle.

Ralphie:
Flick says he saw some grizzly bears near Pulaski's candy store!

Narrator:
They looked at me as if I had lobsters crawling out of my ears.

Ralphie:
Oooh fuuudge!

Ralphie as Adult:
Only I didn't say "Fudge." I said THE word, the big one, the queen-mother of dirty words, the "F-dash-dash-dash" word!

Mr. Parker:
What did you say?

Ralphie:
Uh, um...

Mr. Parker:
That's... what I thought you said. Get in the car. Go on!

Ralphie as Adult:
It was all over - I was dead. What would it be? The guillotine? Hanging? The chair? The rack? The Chinese water torture? Hmmph. Mere child's play compared to what surely awaited me.

Narrator:
We plunged into the cornucopia quivering with desire and the ecstasy of unbridled avarice.

Mr. Parker:
Didn't I get a tie this year?

Narrator:
Aunt Clara had for years not only perpetually labored under the delusion that I was 4 years old, but also a girl.

Mr. Parker:
It's a Major Award!

Mr. Parker:
What is a lamp, you nincompoop? Tt's a Major Award. I won it!

Mr. Parker:
Yeah, mind power, Swede; mind power.

Mr. Parker:
It could be a bowling alley!

Mother:
How are they going to deliver a bowling alley here tonight?

Mr. Parker:
They'll send the deed for cripsake. I didn't expect them to send a whole damn bowling alley.

Narrator:
Some men are Baptists, others Catholics, my father was an Oldsmobile man.

Mr. Parker:
That son of a b*tch would freeze up in the middle of summer on the equator!

Mother:
Little pitchers!

Mr. Parker:
Thanks... hold it!

Mr. Parker:
It's a clinker! That blasted stupid furnace dadgummit!

Mr. Parker:
Damn skates!

Mr. Parker:
Oh for cripes sake open up the damper will ya? Who the hell turned it all the way down? AGAIN! Oh blasted!

Narrator:
In the heat of battle my father wove a tapestry of obscenities that as far as we know is still hanging in space over Lake Michigan.

Mr. Parker:
Fra-gee-lay. That must be Italian.

Mrs. Parker:
Uh, I think that says FRAGILE, dear.

Mr. Parker:
Oh, yeah.

The Old Man:
Sons of b*tches! Bumpuses!

Narrator:
Over the years I got to be quite a connossieur of soap. Though my personal preference was for Lux, I found that Palmolive had a nice, piquant after-dinner flavor - heavy, but with a touch of mellow smoothness. Life Buoy, on the other hand... YECCHH!

Mr. Parker:
He looks like a deranged Easter Bunny.

Mother:
He does not!

Mr. Parker:
He does too, he looks like a pink nightmare!

Narrator:
Getting ready to go to school was like getting ready for extended deep-sea diving.

Miss Shields:
Now I know that some of you put Flick up to this, but he has refused to say who. But those who did it know their blame, and I'm sure that the guilt you must feel would be far worse than any punishment you might receive. Now, don't you feel terrible? Don't you feel remorse for what you have done? Well, that's all I'm going to say about poor Flick.

Narrator:
Adults loved to say things like that but kids knew better. We knew darn well it was always better not to get caught.

Randy:
I can't put my arms down!

Mother:
Well... put your arms down when you get to school.

Goggles:
I like The Wizard of Oz. I like the Tin Man.

Narrator:
Grover Dill! Scut Farkus' little toadie. Mean! Rotten! His lips curled over his green teeth.

Narrator:
Randy lay there like a slug! It was his only defense!

Ralphie:
Scut Farkus!

Narrator:
Scut Farkus! What a rotten name! There he stood, between us and the alley. Scut Farkus staring out at us with his yellow eyes. He had yellow eyes! So, help me, God! Yellow eyes!

Flick:
Are you kidding? Stick my tongue to that stupid pole? That's dumb!

Schwartz:
That's 'cause you know it'll stick!

Flick:
You're full of it!

Schwartz:
Oh yeah?

Flick:
Yeah!

Schwartz:
Well I double-DOG-dare ya!

Narrator:
NOW it was serious. A double-dog-dare. What else was there but a "triple dare ya"? And then, the coup de grace of all dares, the sinister triple-dog-dare.

Schwartz:
I TRIPLE-dog-dare ya!

Narrator:
Schwartz created a slight breach of etiquette by skipping the triple dare and going right for the throat!

Ralphie as Adult:
The line waiting to see Santa Claus stretched all the way back to Terre Haute. And I was at the end of it.

Mr. Parker:
You mundane noodle!

Schwartz:
Hey, smart ass. I asked my old man about sticking your tongue to a flagpole in the winter, and he says that it'll freeze right to the pole, just like I told ya.

Flick:
Ah, baloney. What would your old man know about anything like that?

Schwartz:
He knows, because he once saw a guy stick his tongue to a railroad track on a bet, and the fire department had to come get the guy's tongue off the track, because he couldn't get it off. (Randy is trying to catch up).

Randy:
C'mon, guys! Wait up! C'mon, guys! Wait up!

Mr. Parker:
A can of Simonize!

Narrator:
My kid brother looked like a tick about to pop!

Mother:
Randy? What's wrong? Whatcha cryin' for?

Randy:
Daddy's gonna kill Ralphie!

Mother:
No he's not...

Randy:
Yes he is!

Mother:
No, I promise, Daddy is not going to kill Ralphie!

Randy:
Meatloaf, smeatloaf, double-beatloaf. I hate meatloaf.

The Old Man:
Alright, I'll get that kid to eat. Where's my screw driver and my plumber's helper? I'll open up his mouth and I'll shove it in.

Santa Claus:
If Higbee thinks I'm working one minute past 9:00, he can kiss my foot. Ho ho ho.

Ralphie as Adult:
The old man stood there, quivering with fury, stammering as he tried to come up with a real crusher. All he got out was...

The Old Man:
Notafinga!

***************++************

NOTTAFINGA???”

From the first time I saw this classic movie in the theater, I swear that heard the old man, Mr. Parker utter “MUMMA-FINGA!’ and ever since i’ve incorporated the misheard expletive “MUMMA-FINGA” in my vocabulary.

Actually I like my version MO BETTA!

Goggles:
I like Santa.

Ralphie:
Yeah.

Narrator:
Let's face it, most of us are scoffers. But moments before zero hour, it did not pay to take chances.

Mr. Parker:
So what else happened today?

Mother:
Oh, nothing much. Ralphie had a fight?

Mr. Parker:
A fight? What kind of a fight?

Mother:
Oh, you know how boys are. I gave him a talking to...

Mother:
Uh I see that the Bears are playing Green Bay on Sunday.

Mr. Parker:
What? Oh yeah! Zudock's got tickets I wish I had. Aw well, let him freeze his keister off out there.

Ralphie:
Mom, this is just the same dumb old parade as last year.

Mother:
Ralphie, will you please calm down?

Ralphie:
Mom!

Mother:
Hush!

Mr. Parker:
SHUT UP, Ralphie!

Ralphie as Adult:
I left Flick to certain annihilation. But BB gun mania knows no loyalty.

Ralphie as Adult:
Strange. Even something as momentous as the Scut Fargus affair, which it came to be known, was pushed out of my mind as I struggled to come up with a way out of the impenetrable BB gun web, in which my mother had me trapped.

Ralphie:
Santa. Yeah, I'll ask Santa.

Ralphie as Adult:
Of course. Santa. The big man. The head hancho. The connection. Ha, my mother had slipped up this time.

Santa Claus:
Come on up on Santa's lap, here's a wet one. And what's your name little boy? And what do you want for Christmas, Billy? A toy truck? Get him off my lap and get my a towel.

Santa Claus:
Oh I hate the smell of tapioca.

Miss Shields:
Where's Flick? Has anyone seen Flick?

Ralphie as an Adult:
Flick? Flick who?

Ralphie as Adult:
My father worked in profanity the way other artists might work in oils or clay. It was his true medium, a master.

Mrs. Parker:
Oh, Randy, don't play with your food. Eat it!

Randy:
Aw, gee.

Mrs. Parker:
Starving people would be happy to have that.

Mr. Parker:
It's... it's... it's indescribably beautiful! It reminds me of the Fourth of July!

Mr. Parker:
Dadgummit! Blow out!

Mr. Parker:
Ah ha!

Mother:
Not again.

Mr. Parker:
Four minutes. Time me.

Ralphie as Adult:
Actually the Old Man loved it. He had always pictured himself in the pits of the Indianapolis speedway in the 500. My old man's spare tires were only actually tires in the academic sense. They were round and had once been made of rubber.

Mother:
This isn't one of those trees where all the needles falls off, is it?

Tree Man:
No, that's them balsams.

Ralphie as Adult:
The heavenly aroma still hung in the house. But it was gone, all gone! No turkey! No turkey sandwiches! No turkey salad! No turkey gravy! Turkey Hash! Turkey A La King! Or gallons of turkey soup! Gone, ALL GONE!

Ralphie:
Hey Dad! I'll bet you'll never guess what I got you for Christmas.

The Old Man:
A new furnace.

Ralphie:
Ha ha! Good one, Dad!

Narrator:
Oh, life is like that. Sometimes, at the height of our revalries, when our joy is at it's zeneth, when all is most right with the world, the most unthinkable disasters decend upon us.

Mr. Parker:
Holy smokes. Do... Do you know what this is? This is... A lamp!

Narrator:
It was indeed a lamp.

Mr. Parker:
Isn't that great? What a great lamp.

Mother:
I don't know...

Narrator:
The old man's eyes boggled...

Mr. Parker:
Oh WOW!

Narrator:
...Overcome by art.

Ralphie as Adult:
Next to me in the blackness lay my oiled blue steel beauty. The greatest Christmas gift I had ever received, or would ever receive. Gradually, I drifted off to sleep, pringing ducks on the wing and getting off spectacular hip shots.

Mother:
Is this another one of your silly puzzles?

Mr. Parker:
Yeah, another one of my silly puzzles. This one could be worth FIFTY THOUSAND BUCKS.

Mother:
What is it this time?

Mr. Parker:
Name the great characters in American literature.

Mr. Parker:
Victor? The Lone Ranger's nephew's horse?

Ralphie as Adult:
Every kid, at the back of his mind, vaguely but insistently, believes that he will be struck blind before his 21st birthday. And then they'll be sorry.

Randy:
[wailing] I can't put my arms down! [continues bawling, as Mother tries unsuccessfully to put his arms down]

Mother:
Well, put your arms down when you get to school. [winds scarf around Randy's neck, as he resumes wailing]

Flick:
You're full of beans, and so is your old man.

Scott Schwartz:
Oh, yeah?

Flick:
Yeah!

Scott Schwartz:
Says who?

Flick:
Says me!

Scott Schwartz:
Oh, yeah?

Flick:
Yeah!

Scott Schwartz:
Well, I double-dare ya!

Ralphie as Adult:
[narrating] The exact exchange and nuance of phrase in this ritual is very important.

Flick:
Huh! Are you kidding? Stick my tongue to that stupid pole? That's dumb.

Scott Schwartz:
That's 'cause you know it'll stick!

Flick:
You're full of it!

Scott Schwartz:
Oh, yeah?

Flick:
Yeah!

Scott Schwartz:
Well I double dog-dare ya!

Ralphie as Adult:
[narrating] Now it was serious. A double dog-dare. What else was left but a "triple-dare you"? And finally, the coup de grace of all dares, the sinister triple dog-dare.

Flick:
[over narrator's voice] This guy's really dumb.

Scott Schwartz:
I triple dog-dare ya!

Ralphie as Adult:
[narrating] Hmm. Schwartz created a slight breach of etiquette by skipping the triple-dare and going right for the throat!

Flick:
All right, all right.

[Flick sighs and hesitantly sticks his tongue out]

Scott Schwartz:
Oh, go on, smart-ass, and do it!

Flick:
[tongue out] I'm goin', I'm goin'!

Ralphie as Adult:
[narrating] Flick's spine stiffened, his lips curled in a defiant sneer. There was no going back now.

Flick:
[puts his tongue on pole] This is nothin'. [tries to pull off, but can't and realizes Schwartz was right.] Stuck? Stuck?! STUCK! STUCK! [he starts screaming and bawling]

Schwartz:
Jeez! It really works! Look at him!

[the school bell rings and the students run back to the school except Flick, who keeps bawling]

Flick:
Ralphie, come back! Come back! Don't leave me, come back!

Ralphie:
But the bell rang!

Scott Schwartz:
Well, what are we gonna do?!

Ralphie:
I don't know, the bell rang!

Flick:
Don't leave me, come back! Come back, come back! [he bawls as he is still stuck to the pole]

Mr. Parker:
What is the name of the Lone Ranger's nephew's horse?

Mother:
Ah... Victor! His name is Victor.

Mr. Parker:
How the hell did you know that?

Mother:
Everybody knows that!

Mother:
Is this another one of your silly puzzles?

Mr. Parker:
Yeah, another one of my silly puzzles. This one could be worth fifty thousand bucks.

Mother:
What is it this time?

Mr. Parker:
Name the great characters in American literature.

Mrs. Parker:
Victor?

Mr. Parker:
Yeah.

Mrs. Parker:
The Lone Ranger's nephew's horse?

Mrs. Parker:
[from downstairs] Ralphie! Randy! Down here in two minutes! And I mean two minutes!

[Randy runs first to the drawer, and Ralphie pushes him aside]

Randy:
Come on, Ralphie, I got here first!

Ralphie:
Tough!

[Randy starts kicking and hitting Ralphie from behind while Ralphie is at the dresser pulling a pair of socks out of the drawer and finishes]

Ralphie:
Cut it out! [He leaves to put his Boy's Life Red Ryder magazine in his mother's magazine in their room]

Ralphie as Adult:
[narrating] A "C+"?! Oh, no! It can't be!

Ralphie:
C+...?

Miss Shields:
[as the Wicked Witch of the West from The Wizard of Oz] C+! [cackling] C+!

[Ralphie looks down to see "P.S. You'll shoot your eye out!"]

Ralphie as Adult:
[narrating] Oh, no! "You'll shoot your eye out"?!

Ralphie:
Oh, no!

Ralphie as Adult:
My mother must've gotten to Miss Shields! There could be no other explanation.

Miss Shields and Mrs. Parker:
[sing-song; Mrs. Parker dressed as a jester] You'll shoot your eye out! You'll shoot your eye out! [they both laugh evilly]

Ralphie as Adult:
Was there no end to this conspiracy of irrational prejudice against Red Ryder and his Peacemaker?

[Mr. Parker accidentally flips the hubcap out of Ralphie's hands with the nuts in it]

Ralphie as Adult:
[narrating] Oh! For one brief moment, I saw all the bolts silhouetted against the lights of the traffic, and then they were gone.

Ralphie:
Ohhh, fffffuuuuuudge.

Ralphie as Adult:
[narrating] Only I didn't say "fudge." I said the word. The Big One, The Queen Mother of Dirty Words: The "F-Dash-Dash-Dash" word.

Mr. Parker:
[stunned] What did you say?

Ralphie:
Uh, um--

Mr. Parker:
That's... what I thought you said. Get in the car. [Ralph hesitates] Go on.

Ralphie as Adult:
[narrating] It was all over; I was dead. What would it be? The guillotine? Hanging? The chair? The rack? The Chinese water torture? Hmmph. Mere child's play compared to what surely awaited me.

[Ralphie gets into the car.]

Mrs. Parker:
Everything go alright?

[Ralphie doesn't answer.]

Mr. Parker:
[closes the trunk and checks his watch] Ah!

[Ralphie watches Mr. Parker gets into the car]

Mrs. Parker:
8 minutes.

Mr. Parker:
You know what your son just said?

Mrs. Parker:
No. What?

Mr. Parker:
I'll tell you what he said. Randy?

[He inaudibly whispers the "F-Dash-Dash-Dash" word in Mrs. Parker's ear]

Mrs. Parker:
[shocked] AHHHHHHHHHH!!!! RALPHIE!!!!

[scene switches to Ralphie with soap in his mouth]

Ralphie as Adult:
[narrating] Over the years, I got to be quite a connoisseur of soap. My personal preference is for Lux, but I found Palmolive had a nice, piquant after-dinner flavor; heady, but with just a touch of mellow smoothness. Lifebuoy, on the other hand--

Ralphie:
[disgusted] Yuck!

Mrs. Parker:
You ready to tell me?

Ralphie:
[mumbles and nods his head.]

Mrs. Parker:
[removes soap from his mouth] All right. Where did you hear that word?

Ralphie as Adult:
[narrating] Now, I had heard that word at least 10 times a day from my old man. My father worked in profanity the way other artists might work in oils or clay. It was his true medium; a master. But I chickened out, and I blurted out the first name that came to mind.

Ralphie:
Schwartz!

Mrs. Parker:
[satisfied] Oh... I see. [puts soap back in Ralphie's mouth]

Ralphie:
[yells with soap in his mouth]

Mrs. Parker:
[dials Mrs. Schwartz] Hello, Mrs. Schwartz? Yes, I'm fine. Um, Mrs. Schwartz, do you know what Ralph just said?

Mrs. Schwartz:
[indistinguishable]

Mrs. Parker:
No. He said... [inaudibly whispers the "F-Dash-Dash-Dash" word into the phone]

Mrs. Schwartz:
[through phone] NO, NOT THAT!

Mrs. Parker:
Yes, that. Do you know where he heard it?

Mrs. Schwartz:
[through phone] Probably from his father.

Mrs. Parker:
No! He heard it from your son!

Mrs. Schwartz:
[through phone, angrily screaming] WHAT?! WHAAAAAAT?! WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?! [She is heard in the background smacking Schwartz, and Mrs. Parker covers her mouth in shock.]

Schwartz:
AAAAGH!!! WHAT'D I DO, MOM?! WHAT, I DIDN'T DO NOTHING!!!! AAAAAAAGH!!!!!! [Mrs. Parker winces as Schwartz screams and bawls in pain, with his mother shrieking and wailing in the process. she then puts the phone back and hangs up]

Ralphie as Adult:
[narrating] Another shot of mysterious, inexorable official justice.

Mrs. Parker:
[takes soap of Ralphie's mouth.] Rinse out and go to bed. Ooh, am I glad you finished your homework this afternoon, 'cause I want you getting right into bed, and I don't want to see any lights on. You are being punished, so no comic-book-reading. I'm gonna come in there, and if there are any lights on-- [shocked] W-- Don't you give me that look,you're gonna get it!

[During Ralphie's daydream where he has gone blind]

Mrs. Parker:
Why, it's Ralph!

Mr. Parker:
Well, come on in, Ralph. Where have you been?

Mrs. Parker:
Why... he's carrying a cane!

Mr. Parker:
What is it, Ralph? What happened?

Mrs. Parker:
Why, he's... blind!

Mr. Parker:
Blind? Oh, my God!

Randy:
Ralphie!

Mrs. Parker:
Ralph, is this something WE did?

Mr. Parker:
What brought you to this lowly state?

Mrs. Parker:
Ralph, please tell us, no matter how it hurts. What did we DO?

Ralphie:
Look, I can't.

Mrs. Parker:
Oh, please, Ralph.

Mr. Parker:
Please.

Mrs. Parker:
I must know what we did. What brought you to this?

Mr. Parker:
Please.

Mrs. Parker:
Please... Please?

Ralphie:
It... it was...

Mrs. Parker:
Yes? ...Yes?

Ralphie:
Soap... poisoning!

[Mr. & Mrs. Parker begin wailing]

Mr. Parker:
How could we do it?

Ralphie:
Well, I'll manage to get along... somehow.

Mrs. Parker:
I'll never forgive myself.

Ralphie:
Thanks, Mom.

Mr. Parker:
I told you not to use Lifebuoy! Oh, I feel awful!

Mr. Parker:
[admiring Randy sleeping in the mess of gift wrap] My gosh, would you look at that mess? Who's going to clean the papers up?

Ralphie:
Not me.

Mr. Parker:
Oh, really? Randy did it last year.

Ralphie:
Well, he can do it again.

Mr. Parker:
You know, this wine ain't bad. You want a sip?

Ralphie:
Yeah.

Mrs. Parker:
No, you don't. Did you have a nice Christmas?

Ralphie:
Yeah, pretty nice.

Mr. Parker:
Yeah? Did you get everything you wanted?

Ralphie:
[thinking about not getting the BB gun] Well, almost.

Mr. Parker:
Almost, huh? Well, that's life. Well, there's always next Christmas.

Ralphie:
Yep.

Mr. Parker:
[feigns a surprised look] Hey. That's funny. What's that over there behind the desk?

Ralphie:
Where?

Mr. Parker:
Uh...behind the desk against the wall over there... Go check it out. Go on.

[Ralphie goes to the desk and pulls out a large present]

Mrs. Parker:
What did we put over there, honey?

Mr. Parker:
[stammers] Uh, Santa Claus probably put it.

Ralphie:
[opens gift to see a Red Ryder BB gun] WOW!

[Mrs. Parker is not pleased at the sight of the BB gun]

Mr. Parker:
[laughs] Do you know how to load it?

Ralphie:
Yeah. [loads gun]

Mr. Parker:
C-careful. They run all over. Close it up. Close it up.

Ralphie:
[delighted] Can I...Can I try it out, Ma? Can I?

Mr. Parker:
Sure.

Mrs. Parker:
[reluctantly] Okay. But outside. Oh... I still say those things are dangerous. [Ralphie leaves] No, no! Put on your galoshes and your coat. It's cold out! [looks at Mr. Parker, not pleased]

Mr. Parker:
But...I had one when I was eight years old.

Mrs. Parker:
What if he hurts himself? Ralphie, your coat! Don't shoot any animals or birds.

Mr. Parker:
Except the Bumpuses' dogs!

Mrs. Parker:
Oh, hush. Be careful, Ralphie!

Randy:
[opening his biggest gift] Wow! Whoopee! A zeppelin!

Mr. Parker:
[Almost as happy] A can of Simoniz.

Waiters in Chinese Restaurant:
(singing) Deck the harrs with bows of horry, Fa ra ra ra ra ra ra ra ra! 'Tis the season to be jorry, Fa ra ra ra ra ra ra ra ra!

Lead waiter:
(To waiters) No, no, no! Not ra ra ra ra ra, la la la la la. Sing like this: (singing) Deck the halls with boughs of holly / Fa la la la la la la la la. (Speaking) Try again.

Waiters:
(Singing) Deck the harrs with bows of horry...

Lead waiter:
No, no, no, stop! Sing something else.

Waiters:
(Singing) Jingre Bears, Jingre Bears, Jingre Arr the Way! Oh what fun it is to ride in a one-horse open sreigh

Lead waiter:
No! Stop! Kitchen. Bring food. For customers.

Ralphie:
Be sure to drink your Olvaltine.Olvaltine?A crummy commercial?Son of a b*tch!

Mrs. Parker:
That's rediculious! jealous. jealous of what? That is the ugliest lamp i've ever seen in my entire life!

I triple dog dare ya!

Mr. Parker:
Frageelay, It must be italian.

Mrs. Parker:
It says "fragile", Dear.

Ralphie as an adult:
Football, Football, what's a football? No!! You fool!! Snap out of it! (Child Ralphie comes to his senses)

Child Ralphie:
IwantaRedRiderdualactionbluecarbidebbgun!

Store Santa:
You'll shoot your eye out kid.

Ralphie:
Ok, Black Bart now you get yours!

[In the backyard, Ralphie is aiming at a target with his new BB rifle. He shoots at the left side of the target; the force bounces off the target and hits his cheek, knocking him to the ground.]

Ralphie (as an adult):
[narrating] Oh, my God! I shot my eye out!

Santa Claus:
[in Ralphie's head] You'll shoot your eye out, kid.

Mrs. Parker and Miss Shields:
[in Ralphie's head with a sing-song] You'll shoot your eye out! You'll shoot your eye out!

Santa Claus:
[in Ralphie's head; at the same time] Ho ho ho!

Mrs. Parker:
[from the kitchen while she's working on the turkey] Ralphie, you be careful out there! Don't shoot your eye out!

Ralphie (as an adult):
[narrating] She hadn't seen! She didn't know! My eye's all right. The BB must've hit my glasses. [Removes his fingers and just sees blood.] My glasses! Oh, no! Where are my glasses?! Few things brought such swift and terrible retribution on a kid as a pair of busted glasses.