Santa Claus is in Sleigh Queen, the North Pole’s number one new and used sleigh dealership, looking to purchase a new sleigh
SALESWOMAN: Let me get a feel for what you’re looking for. Open or closed?
SANTA: Oh, definitely open.
SALESWOMAN: One horse or multiple horses?
SANTA: Just the one, thanks.
SALESWOMAN: Fun to ride or business to ride?
SANTA: Fun to ride.
SALESWOMAN: Bells?
SANTA: Jingling.
SALESWOMAN: Part of the w—
SANTA: (interrupting) All the way.
SALESWOMAN: Okay. Perfect. (gesturing to a sleigh at the back of the shop) I think we have just the sleigh for you.
SANTA: (examining the sleigh closely) How much room is there for elves in the back?
SALESWOMAN: (frowning in confusion) Late or early?
SANTA: (speaking hesitantly, now also confused) I don’t understand the question?
SALESWOMAN: (still talking at cross-purposes) I assume this is an impersonator situation?
SANTA: (shrugging and shaking his head) Nope. I’m still lost.
SALESWOMAN: Because the real one’s dead, right?
SANTA: (staring blankly)
SALESWOMAN: Elvis.
SANTA: (getting it) Oh! Oh! No, not Elvis. Elves. My workshop elves.
SALESWOMAN: (also getting it) Ahhhhhh. (laughs) Elves. Yes, that makes much more sense.
SANTA: (furrowing his brow) ‘Elves’ and ‘Elvis’ don’t even sound the same.
SALESWOMAN: But they’re spelt very similarly. So you can understand the mistake.
SANTA: Not really. ‘Elves’ has just the one syllable, while ‘Elvis’ has two syllables.
SALESWOMAN: Yes, but it’s just the one letter difference.
SANTA: Nevertheless, you’re not reading this conversation, are you? It’s a spoken conversation. It shouldn’t matter how they’re spelt.
SALESWOMAN: It’s a hearing condition I suffer from.
SANTA: (sceptical) A hearing condition that makes you mishear words that are spelt similarly, no matter how differently they sound?
SALESWOMAN: (nodding unconvincingly) Yeeee-eees. (brightening as she changes the subject) But, on the plus side, there’s definitely room for your elves.
SANTA: (also brightening) Great! I’ll take it. Do you deliver?
SALESWOMAN: Oh, no. We just sell sleighs. If you want a hepatic surgeon, you’re probably best to try a hospital.
SANTA: (catching on quicker this time) No, no. Not ‘de-liver’. I don’t want my liver removed. I want you to dispatch the sleigh to my home in the North Pole.
SALESWOMAN: (laughing at the mistake) Of course. Yes, we can do that.
SANTA: (frowning) You also mishear hyphens?
SALESWOMAN: Sometimes. (clearing her throat) It’s a complicated condition. (brightening once more) Now, where would you like it delivered?
SANTA: Santa’s Workshop, Santa Claus Village, 96930 Rovaniemi, Finland.
SALESWOMAN: Oh? You’re from Finland?
SANTA: (sensing an opportunity) Yes, I’m Finnish.
He walks away.
SALESWOMAN: Wait. Where are you going? You haven’t signed the contract yet.
SANTA: (stopping) Oh. Sorry. I just thought that would be a perfect place to end the sketch. On a bit of finish/Finnish confusion. A neat little button.
SALESWOMAN: (realising the missed opportunity) Ahhhh…
SANTA: (uncomfortably clears throat)
There is a long pause while the pair look around awkwardly.
SALESWOMAN: Soooo…
SANTA: Contract?
SALESWOMAN: Okay.
The saleswoman decreases in size, shrinking down within herself until she disappears
The lost Monty Python sketch, hehe:)