Krueger: Did you ever realize that we pretty much do the same thing?
Claus: Yeah, I’m not seeing it.
Krueger: Visit kids while they sleep.
Claus: Okay, sort of true.
Krueger: And give them memories to last a lifetime.
Claus: I feel like it’s a little different.
Krueger: We both don’t show up unless they’re asleep.
Claus: Yes, but I…
Krueger: We appear in their dreams…
Claus: In a way, but I show up to give them toys and you bring…
Krueger: Stabbing, death, fear.
Claus: Exactly. Totally different.
Krueger: Totally different? What about the Henderson kid?
Claus: That was just one time and he… It got out of control.
Krueger: I’ll say it got out of control. Eleven stab wounds in his back. The coroner said they’d never seen anything like it.
Claus: He woke up. You know this. He was waking up. I didn’t know what to do. I reacted. I was nervous. There was a letter opener sitting on the desk. What the fuck is a seven-year-old kid doing with a letter opener? He’s getting a lot of bills in the mail?! You don’t know the pressure, man. You don’t know the fucking pressure. All the houses in one night. All the fucking houses in the world.
Krueger: Not the Jews.
Claus: Not the Jews?! Not the fucking Jews?! Do you know how many Jews there are in the world? Like a few hundred. There are billions of Christians. Billions. And every single one wants a Goddamned present under the tree. [He pauses and takes a breath.] The kid woke up and I reacted. I didn’t know what else to do. And not a night has gone by since that I haven’t woken up in a cold sweat. Mrs. Claus sits next to me for hours with a damp cloth just humming Christmas carols until I fall asleep for maybe another ten minutes before I’m once again jolted awake.
Krueger: Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.
Claus: It’s my Vietnam, man. It’s my fucking Vietnam.