Kickass, the doorstop dog, accepts the keeper’s assessment that a gray or a brown Christmas is as good as a white one, except as it comes to singing about it in the mode of Bing Crosby. (Who is Bing Crosby, you ask, and the keeper says to sit down and be quiet.)
“I’m dreaming of a gray Christmas, just like the ones I used to know, where the tree tops droop and I’ve got the croup and can’t hear sleigh bells for the coughing that I do.
“I’m dreaming of a gray Christmas with every Christmas cough I hack. May your days be happy and bright and may all you Christmases find you in the sack—with a sixpack or jug of apple jack.”
The original 1942 version of White Christmas has Bing whistling through the melody at this point, which the keeper will now do, and if you can’t hear him you are not listening, right, Phyllis!