(int. recording studio, LA. Bob Dylan and his band stand amidst a forest of mics, instruments, and cables, ready to set into recording. Producer sits on the other side of the glass, tweaking a knobs)
Producer: (into mic) OK Bob, Jingle Bell rock, take 6.
Bob: OK, Bill. (to band) Make it snow, boys.
(band kicks into a mid-tempo version of "Jingle Bell Rock"...)
Bob: Jingeh beh, jingeh bur, jingerbur RACK, jingable sweep 'n jingeh buh mop--
Bill: Whoa whoa, gonna have to cut, Bob. We're picking up some outside noise. I thought this place was soundproof? What is that, a motorcycle engine?
(growing sound of motorcycle engine, punctuated by tire skids and trash cans crashing over and rolling away. Three bangs at the studio door.)
Bill: What the hell? (opens door)
Snyder: FELIZ NAVIDAD, MUCHACHOS!
Bill: Excuse me...ah, Mr. Snyder, can I help you?
Snyder: Flip it and reverse it, pal. I'm here to help you!
Bob: What's going on, Bill?
Snyder: Bobbo! Brother! Little birdie told me you were layin' down some XMAS tuneage. First of all, BRAVO mein freund. Take it from me, you gotta quench the masses' thirst for the holiday jams. Feed the need! You're doing them a favor, youg ot me? Man, listen to me...ME, Dee Snyder, giving advice to Bob Dylan! From on legend to another, babe.
Bob: Bill, who's this guy?
Snyder: HA! COMEDIAN! (to producer) That Bob Dylan or Don Rickles? (back to Dylan) Look man, not only are these tunes timeless, but it they are COWS of the CASH type, kna'mean?
Bob: Uh...I'm doing this for charity.
Dee: And who doesn't like charity? Look, I got plenty of charity when the Sister toured, if you catch my drift. MOTHERS AND DAUGHTERS, baby!
Bill: Mr. Snyder, we have a very busy day ahead of us. If you'd like to contact Mr. Dylan, we ask that you go through his publicist.
Dee: Ah, excuse me, "Bill", but rock legends don't need no middle man publicist. Leave that shit to the Backstreet Boys. Hard rock is STRAIGHT TALKIN, baby. It's like when Bret Michaels got brained at the Tony's, I had him on the House of Hair that next night, bandaged up and shit.
Bob: Bill, can you get this guy outta here?
Dee: Whoa, Bobbarino, don't look a gift horse in the mouth! I'm ready to feed you the gold, brother!
Bill: (taking Snyder by the arm) Let's go, Dee.
Dee: Aw, c'mon! Can't believe you're giving the Dee-man the ol' heave ho--you're makin' a huge mistake! HUGE, AMIGO!
(Bill shoves Dee out, slams door)
Snyder: I won't forget this--JUDAS!
Bob: (incredulous) I don't believe you! (to band) Play it fuckin' loud! No wait. Mid-tempo. Always mid-tempo.