CAST & VOICE TALENT

• SPECIAL GUEST: Wes Johnson – Scrooge, Tiny Tim, Alastair Olivier
• SPECIAL GUEST: Pete Hines - Jacob Marley, William Lamont
• SPECIAL GUEST: Courtenay Taylor – Narrator #1, Isabel Fezziwig, Clara, Dame Alice Covington
• SPECIAL GUEST: Jan Johns –Mrs. Fezziwig, Mrs. Cratchit, Mrs. Dilber, Miss Cordelia
• SPECIAL GUEST: Craig Sechler - Ghost of Christmas Present, Scribe Ryan
• SPECIAL GUEST: Mike Rosson – Narrator #2, 1st Ghoul of Charity, Old Joe, Topper, Fester the Ghoul
• SPECIAL GUEST: Sean Baptiste - Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come, Brooks Calvert (Raider)
• Alexander Luthor - Bob Cratchit, Tarquin Blowhard
• Kenneth Vigue – Narrator
• Jessica Dickey - Martha Cratchit, Cora (Fred’s Party Goer), MaryAnne
• Fenwa Teryen - Peter Cratchit, The Undertaker, Charles Bishop
• Dust Monkey – Fred, Bernard, Turkey Boy
• Mark Hauswirth - Ghost of Christmas Past, Brian
• Kevin Chenard - Mr. Fezziwig, Lugnut (Raider)
• Logan Hauswirth - Young Ebenezer, Billy
• Sophia Hauswirth - Fan Scrooge, Belinda Cratchit, Jan

 

MEDIA: OVERTURE THEME

SFX: SIGN RISES AND CURTAINS OPEN

MEDIA: BOOK INTRO

NARRATOR:        In a time yet to come, in a parallel place,

                                A war and some nukes did away the human race.

                                In a Vault numbered 7 and 6, one and all, the young and the tall,

                                Would gather once a year and join hand in hand to perform for their peers.

                                Decades did pass, this rhyming can’t last,

                                When at last the door opened, and the light of reclamation brought hope in

                                We indeed did emerge, but it was more like um…a purge…?

                                You know what? Let’s not do the holiday rhyming thing. Let’s start this again. Can we roll back the music and film please?

SFX: MEDIA REWIND. STARTS OVER.

MEDIA: SNOW AND INK AND PEN SKETCHES

NARRATOR:

One October not long ago we celebrated a different kind of day. Reclamation Day. We emerged into Appalachia and roamed and fought and conquered and reclaimed a small piece of home. Making friends and finding family and enemies alike. But in a world filled with sun fading calendars of further away years and nuke frozen clocks making it forever October, the holidays we spent in the Vault as a family felt more and more like the memory of another life.

I want to tell you a story of one Christmas when a strange, yuletide bearing caravan rolled into Appalachia and with it, a merry band of performers who rekindled that lost spirit. You’re about to meet Lord Alastair Olivier and his Olivier and Company Off Off Broadway Performers. Now, Lord Alistair (who was lord in name only after buying a postage stamp sized plot of land in Merry Olde England) was a preening, strutting, gloating, self-satisfied old thespian who barely made it out of the East Village crater following the Great War. He rounded up the surviving actors and convinced them to hit the road like the travelling minstrels of yore to bring culture to the commoners (as Lord Alastair put it.) Arriving here, they bore neither weapon nor malice and yet had the sad misfortune of cheerfully singing carols past a less than festive fissure up near the Pumpkin House…and well, you can probably guess what happened next. Decreased in numbers, but not in spirit, they held open casting calls and everyone from Raiders to Pioneer Scouts showed up to restock his ranks. We open now at the final dress rehearsal before the opening night at the Mothman Metropolitan Theatre in the heart of Charleston. It’s the afternoon of Christmas Eve, and while we find ourselves in a world without snow, there is something magical in the air as they perform A Christmas Carol just like we used to back in the Vault. For Lord Alastair however, tonight was the night he stopped reading lines…and in his heart, felt and know the words and message of that story for the very first time.

DISSOLVE TO STAGE.

SCENE 1: INT. THEATER BACKSTAGE. DAY

MEDIA: PAGES TURN TO SHOW PROLOGUE: Appalachia Holiday.

ALASTAIR AND TARQUIN ENTER THE THEATER AND WALK UP THE ROW OF SEATS TO THE STAGE. TARQUIN TRAILS BEHIND.

ALASTAIR:           (Practicing) Humbug. HUMBUG. HUMMMMMBUG. No that’s not quite it. Tarquin? Tarquin? Where on earth has he gotten off to now?

TARQUIN:           Yes sir, so sorry sir…there was a disagreement backstage. Our casting call brought in some…errr…rabble sir.

ALASTAIR:           Yes, these provincial types leave much to be desired, but they do add a certain local color, eh?

TARQUIN:           Some of them are raiders sir. They appear to have stolen my trunk and wrote something off color on my back.

ALASTAIR:           All part of the experience my boy! The energy of the opening night. It’s a rite of passage! Why I recall our gala opening of Oedipus Rex in Brooklyn at the opulent Kings Theater, oh there were hijinks that evening I can tell you.

TARQUIN:           I thought you performed at a senior center?

ALASTAIR:           Mmm…what’s that?

TARQUIN:           Nothing sir.

ALASTAIR:           Everyone! Attention please. Attention everyone. One final run through before curtain up tonight and I have a few things to say.

EVERYONE ENTERS FROM STAGE LEFT AND RIGHT.

WILLIAM:            (Sarcastic) Well there’s a shocker. Uhhh…when do I get paid?

ALASTAIR:           Paid? Paid? If I’ve told you once William I’ve told you a thousand times. We do this for the art! For the craft!

WILLIAM:            You have a 24kt gold toilet in your dressing room. We’re out back sleeping in tents.

BROOKS:              Yeah. I’m here for caps windbag…and the free food.

SCRIBE RYAN:    Well there’s a shocker. As Paladin Rahmani says all you Raiders are alike. All about greed and cheap thrills instead of giving back. Is the irony not lost that you tried out for A Christmas Carol?

BROOKS:              Don’t you have some resources to be harassing people for Scribe Ryan? Got a bundle of bulk wood out back to beat you with…

ALASTAIR:           Who are you again? Who is that Tarquin? He has a foul countenance.

TARQUIN:           (Flips throw cast sheet) Brooks Calvert sir? That raider stole my trunk.

BROOKS:              Hey! You just leave stuff lying around it’s fair game…

TARQUIN:           It was behind a locked door in my CAMP…

BROOKS:              …speaking of, you gonna stash that scrap metal in your pockets? It’s giving me a case of the itchy trigger finger.

FESTER:                Excuse me smooth skins, can I ask why I was typecast as Old Joe? Really? Old Joe? The sleezy junk dealer. What about Young Ebenezer? You gave the role to that kid over there.

BILLY:                    Gee Mister! I was just glad to have a role. This sure is swell.

BRIAN:                  Well hey there Pioneer Scout Billy!

BILLY:                    Well hey there Scoutmaster Brian!

MARYANNE:      Well hey there Brian and Billy!

BILLY:                    Hey there Assistant Scoutmaster Maryanne!

LUGNUT:             I’m about five seconds away from offing all 3 of you with a slow killing drill gun…fa la la laaaa laa laa laa laaaa…

SCRIBE RYAN:    Just try it Raider.

LUGNUT:             What are you going to do Scribe? Read me to death?

JAN:                       I can do the Charleston.

BERNARD:           I’m sorry what?

JAN:                       The Charleston. Maybe Fan Scrooge has a musical number?

BERNARD:           The Charleston was a dance from the 1920s.

JAN:                       Yeah.

BERNARD:           And Fan Scrooge, a character from the early 1800s…you want her to dance it.

JAN:                       Like yeah.

BERNARD:           Sure whatever.

ALASTAIR:           You there! Roll you vowels, your accent isn’t very convincing for Fred. Let’s have your first line again.

BERNARD:           You realize I’m actually British right?

ALASTAIR:           I’m a English Lord…I KNOW proper breeding when I hear it.

TARQUIN:           You’re from Albany.

ALASTAIR:           FIRST LINE AGAIN!

BERNARD:           A Merry Christmas Uncle and God save you!

ALASTAIR:           No, no, no. That won’t do at all. Do it this way. (Bad English accent) “Merry Christmas Uncle and God save you!” Hear that? Method boy! Method! Put the Pic in Piccadilly.

BISHOP:               Uhh…pardon me, Charles Bishop here, voice of the silver microphone. Who’s directing this gig? I have some notes on the script. I feel Peter Cratchit would be more dynamic a character if he had a dramatic backstory. Perhaps when he wasn’t apprenticing by day, by night he could be solving mysteries…

WILLIAM:            Yeah that’s great. Stick him in a 2 headed cow outfit. Might as well make this pantomime.

TARQUIN:           Now come on now Lamont let’s be a little supportive of the new castmates….ehm….please sir.

WILLIAM:            A giant bat ate my wife last week Tarquin, you’ll pardon me if I’m not chock full of the Christmas spirit.

CORDELIA:          Alastair, I have a few notes too…it seems that Alice over there has more lines than I do and then I thought to myself surely that can’t be.

ALICE:                   Uhhh excuse you, it’s Dame Alice…

CORDELIA:          “Dame” Alice. More like Great Dane you dog faced…

ALICE:                   Oh go kiss a Mirelurk you washed up diva…

CORDELIA:           I will come over there!

ALASTAIR:           ENOUGH! Tarquin what does it say on the side of our caravan?

TARQUIN:           Olivier and Company, sir.

ALASATAIR:        Let’s have that first part again.

TARQUIN:           Olivier.

ALASTAIR:           That’s RIGHT. This is my company, my show, my stage. Alice, Cordelia and the rest of you unqualified nonces are here for one thing and one thing only. You are human footstools for me to step on to reach the spotlight and in so doing a little bit of my largesse, knowledge and riches can trickle down unto you all until you EARN a place at my stature and give some semblance of meaning to your small insignificant little lives.

WILLIAM:            I always find your speeches before a big show so uplifting.

ALASATAIR:        Apply yourselves and one day your name could be in lights in smaller text below mine. Look at Tarquin over here. Why when we rescued him from the Central Park slavers he was just a wee little thing, our Tiny Tim. One bloodbath later and he’s right up there as Bob Cratchit.

TARQUIN:           Half the company was eviscerated sir, it was a great opportunity.

ALASTAIR:           Damned right it was. Right! Places everyone, places! Let’s take it from the top. This is it, one last run before opening night and all the caps I can carry. And remember, create your method! Don’t depend on mine, acquired through years of training and keen insight. You keep breaking traditions, I beg you!”

TARQUIN:           (Mumbling) Stanislavski said that…

ALASTAIR:           You there! That one…from the Brotherhood of Feels.

SCRIBE RYAN:    I…guess you mean me?

ALASTAIR:           You people are good with technology. Waddle on over there and let’s have you run the intro reel.

SCRIBE RYAN:    But I’m the Ghost of Christmas Present.

ALASTAIR:           Good for you.

SFX: CURTAIN CLOSES

SFX: PROJECTOR SCREEN SLIDES DOWN

MEDIA: OLD TIME INTRO

ALASTAIR:           Lord Alastair Olivier and Company presents Charles’ Dickens immortal classic A Christmas Carol starring Lord Alastair Olivier as Scrooge in an original adaptation by Lord Alastair Olivier. And then there are some other names…we can skip those Randy.

SCRIBE RYAN:    It’s Ryan.

ALASTAIR:           Let’s go to scene 1! CURTAIN!

SFX: PROJECTOR SCREEN SLIDES UP

SFX: CURTAIN OPENS.

MEDIA: PAGES TURN TO SHOW STAVE 1: MARLEY’S GHOST.

SCENE 2: EXT. SCROOGE AND MARLEY’S. NIGHT.

SCROOGE AND THE UNDERTAKER STAND CENTER STAGE BY MARLEY’S CASKET.

NARRATOR #1:  Marley was dead, to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. And Scrooge's name was considered good for any piece of business he chose to put his hand to.

NARRATOR #2:  On a cold bleak Christmas Day, Old Marley was laid to rest, as dead as a door-nail. Mind you, I don’t mean to say that I know, of my own knowledge, what there is particularly dead about a door-nail. I might have been inclined, myself, to regard a coffin-nail as the deadest piece of ironmongery in the trade. But the wisdom of our ancestors is in the simile; and my unhallowed hands shall not disturb it, or the Country’s done for. You will therefore permit me to repeat, emphatically, that Marley was as dead as a door-nail.

UNDERTAKER:   Tis a terrible loss if you’ll pardon, Mr. Scrooge.

SCROOGE:           Loss? Hmm…what of it? We are born screaming and alone in this world and we are swept out the door in the same fashion. It’s the way of it.

UNDERTAKER:   Your signature here then, here, here, initial here, circle there and if it would please you to answer the survey on the back for a chance to win a casket fitting.

SCROOGE:           (Mumbling)

UNDERTAKER:   You know him for many years sir?

SCROOGE:           Aye, years of toil, of cunning, opportunity…carving our station on the tables of the idle, the foolish and the weak willed. (Sadly) Our firm will miss your keen mind Jacob, but the foundations of it are strong, sunk as deep into the earth as you shall be and in name it will endure, I promise you. Is our business concluded?

UNDERTAKER:   Tuppence.

SCROOGE:           Pardon?

UNDERTAKER:   Tuppence for Charon, Mr. Scrooge, a toll for Mr. Marley’s immortal soul in passing.

SCROOGE:           Bah…good day to you. Marley’s well passed.

SCROOGE EXITS.

UNDERTAKER:   But sir! Mr. Scrooge! He needs passage!

UNDERTAKER CHASES AFTER HIM.

NARRATOR #1:  Scrooge knew he was dead? Of course he did. How could it be otherwise? Scrooge was his sole executor, his sole administrator, his sole assign, his sole residuary legatee, his sole friend, and sole mourner. And even Scrooge was not so dreadfully cut up by the sad event, for he weighed everything in gain and for the death of a partner in business what was lost in cunning cooperation was gained in a multiplication of wealth and holdings.

NARRATOR #2: And the mention of Marley's funeral brings me back to the point I started from. There is no doubt that Marley was dead. This must be distinctly understood, or nothing wonderful can come of the story I am going to relate.

NARRATOR #1:  The years wore on and the gilded board that hung in forged brackets above the window over Scrooge and Marley’s faded and weathered, now a face of peeling skins of paint, tarnish and rust…a mirror of the deeds and visage of the man who resided within.

NARRATOR #2:  It is now Christmas Eve in the year of our lord Eighteen Hundred and Forty Three, a night as still as the grave and a cold so deep that creeps to the very marrow of you. The city clocks had just gone three, but it was dark as night already. Old Scrooge made his way through the streets of London town to his counting house passing candle lit windows, kissing with frost as he passed, as if the man himself was a vacuum for all that was warm and well…

SFX: LIGHTS COME UP.

BOB CRATCHIT SITS AT HIS DESK WORKING.

ANNOYING CAROLING CROONER AND MARTHA CRATCHIT ENTER SINGING HERE WE COME A WASSAILING.

Here We Come A-Wassailing

Here we come a-wassailing among the leaves so green;

Here we come a-wandering, so fair to be seen.

Love and joy come to you, and to you our wassail, too.

And God bless you and send you a Happy New Year

And God bless you and send you a Happy New Year

SCROOGE ENTERS SLOWLY FROM THE STREET.

PETER:                  A Merry Christmas to you! May Christmas keep you!

SCROOGE:           I am not in the habit of keeping Christmas, nor do I tolerate layabouts disturbing my place of business. Be off with you.

MARTHA:            Well golly gee Mr. Scrooge Have you not heard the birds sing in the chapel at dawn singing praises to the return of morn? Even all things that fly above and crawl below celebrate and be merry in their own way.

SCROOGE:           Birds are as you are and the day itself is…a humbug and a disruption to my orderly ledger of business. Off with you now and trouble me no further!

SCROOGE ENTER HIS COUNTING HOUSE AND MAKES HIS WAY TO HIS DESK AND SITS.

PETER:                  Why you squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous, old sinner!

MARTHA:            Say, let’s grab a hot bowl of punch, come back and pry open the heart of that tight-fisted hand at the grindstone with some magical Christmas melodies!

1^ST GHOUL ENTERS FROM STREET.

1^st GHOUL:          Pardon me smoothskins, err…corner carolers, could you direct me to the firm of Scrooge and Marley? I’m new to this district and still finding my way.

PETER:                  Right over there my fine face flaking fellow. You can’t miss it. But if you’ll take a bit of advice, any lenderer would be a better choice for quick cash.

1^st GHOUL:          Oh no, no. I’m collecting for the poor from local businesses at this festive time of year to provide some meager means of warmth, food and drink.

MARTHA:            You’re collecting for the poor from Ebenezer Scrooge? Now there’s an exercise in patience…

1^st GHOUL:          Off I go! A Merry Christmas to you!

PETER:                  And to you! Come on Martha…a steaming bowl calls us and then we’re going to share our uplifting melodies with that old miser.

1^ST GHOUL ENTERS COUNTING HOUSE AND WALKS TO BOB’S DESK.

1^st GHOUL:          (Clears throat) A Merry Christmas to you sir!

BOB:                      And to you sir.

SCROOGE:           I’ll handle this Cratchit. What can I do for you sir?

1^st GHOUL:          Scrooge and Marley's, I believe. Have I the pleasure of addressing Mr. Scrooge, or Mr. Marley?

SCROOGE:           Mr. Marley has been dead these seven years. He died seven years ago, this very night.

1^st GHOUL:          I see, my card. I have no doubt his liberality is well represented by his surviving partner.

SCROOGE:           I represent much sir, liberality is not one that I do. What is your business here?

1^st GHOUL:          At this festive season of the year, Mr. Scrooge, it is more than usually desirable that we should make some slight provision for the Poor and destitute, who suffer greatly at the present time. Many thousands are in want of common necessities; hundreds of thousands are in want of common comforts, sir.

SCROOGE:           Are there no prisons?

1^st GHOUL:          Plenty of prisons.

SCROOGE:           And the Union workhouses? Are they still in operation?

1^st GHOUL:          They are. Still. I wish I could say they were not.

SCROOGE:           The Treadmill and the Poor Law are in full vigour, then?

1^st GHOUL:          Both very busy, sir.

SCROOGE:           Oh! I was afraid, from what you said at first, that something had occurred to stop them in their useful course. I'm very glad to hear it.

1^st GHOUL:          Under the impression that they scarcely furnish Christian cheer of mind or body to the multitude, a few of us are attempting to raise a fund to buy the Poor some meat and drink, and means of warmth. What shall I put you down for?

SCROOGE:           Nothing!

1^st GHOUL:          You wish to be anonymous?

SCROOGE:           I wish to be left alone. Since you ask me what I wish, kind gentleman, that is my answer. I don't make merry myself at Christmas and I can't afford to make idle people merry. I help to support the establishments I have mentioned: they cost enough: and those who are badly off must go there.

1^st GHOUL:          Many can't go there; and many would rather die.

SCROOGE:           If they would rather die, they had better do it, and decrease the surplus population. Besides -- excuse me -- I don't know that.

1^st GHOUL:          But you might know it.

SCROOGE:           It's not my business. It's enough for a man to understand his own business, and not to interfere with other people's. Mine occupies me constantly. Good afternoon, sir!

1^ST GHOUL SLOWLY EXITS AND WALKS OUT OF THE SCENE ON THE STREET.

SCROOGE:           Bear my words Cratchit, there is no more universal truth in this world than the more you accumulate, the more hands reach out to take it from you.

BOB:                      Yes sir. Right you are I’m sure sir.

SCROOGE:           Oh? Not entirely positive then? I suppose you think a shilling here, a tuppence there for the bone idle, the drunkards and the mad in the name of the season is a wise investment?

BOB:                      If you’ll pardon sir, I’m sure I don’t know Mr. Scrooge.

FRED ENTERS AND WALKS INTO THE COUNTING HOUSE AND WALKS TO SCROOGE’S DESK.

FRED:                    A merry Christmas, uncle! God save you!

SCROOGE:           Bah! Humbug!

FRED:                    Christmas a humbug, uncle? You don't mean that, I am sure.

SCROOGE:           I do. Merry Christmas! What right have you to be merry? What reason have you to be merry? You're poor enough.

FRED:                    Come, then. What right have you to be dismal? What reason have you to be morose? You're rich enough.

SCROOGE:           Bah! Humbug.

FRED:                    Don't be cross, uncle.

SCROOGE:           What else can I be when I live in such a world of fools as this Merry Christmas! Out upon merry Christmas. What's Christmas time to you but a time for paying bills without money; a time for finding yourself a year older, but not an hour richer; a time for balancing your books and having every item in 'em through a round dozen of months presented dead against you? (beat) If I could work my will, every idiot who goes about with "Merry Christmas" on his lips, should be boiled with his own pudding, and buried with a stake of holly through his heart.

FRED:                    Uncle!

SCROOGE:           Nephew! (beat) Keep Christmas in your own way, and let me keep it in mine.

FRED:                    Keep it! But you don't keep it.

SCROOGE:           Let me leave it alone, then. Much good may it do you! Much good it has ever done you!

FRED:                    There are many things from which I might have derived good, by which I have not profited, I dare say. Christmas among the rest. But I am sure I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round -- apart from the veneration due to its sacred name and origin, if anything belonging to it can be apart from that -- as a good time: a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time: the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys. And therefore, uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that it has done me good, and will do me good; and I say, God bless it!

CRATCHIT CLAPS.

SCROOGE:           Let me hear another sound from you Cratchit and you'll keep your Christmas by losing your situation. Humph…you're quite a powerful speaker, sir. I wonder you don't go into Parliament.

FRED:                    Don't be angry, uncle. Come! Dine with us to-morrow. (a long pause) Will you come see us?

SCROOGE:           Oh, I'll see you all right... I'll see you in hell.

FRED:                    But why? Why?

SCROOGE:           Why did you get married?

FRED:                    Because I fell in love.

SCROOGE:           Because you fell in love! Good afternoon!

FRED:                    Uncle, you never came to see me before that happened. Why give it as a reason for not coming now?

SCROOGE:           Good afternoon.

FRED:                    I want nothing from you; I ask nothing of you; why can't we be friends?

SCROOGE:           Good afternoon.

FRED:                    I am sorry, with all my heart, to find you so resolute. We have never had any quarrel, to which I have been a party. But I have made the trial in homage to Christmas, and I'll keep my Christmas humor to the last. So, a Merry Christmas, uncle!

SCROOGE:           Good afternoon.

FRED:                    And a Happy New Year!

SCROOGE:           Good afternoon.

FRED WALKS TO BOB’S DESK.

FRED:                    A merry Christmas to you Bob and your family.

BOB:                      Same to you, sir, and your good lady!

FRED EXITS TO THE STREET AND LEAVES THE SCENE.

SCROOGE:           And you! Fifteen shillings a week, and a wife and family, talking about a merry Christmas. I'll retire to Bedlam.

PETER AND MARTHA RE-ENTER FROM THE STREET AND STAND BY SCROOGE’S DOOR.

MARTHA:            What song shall we sing to warm Old Scrooge’s frigid heart?

PETER:                  What about good king Wencelingmas…Wencelsauce…uhhh Good King something.

BRIAN ENTERS AND YELLS TO ALASTAIR.

BRIAN:                  Ummm…excuse me Lord Olivier if I may interject for a moment!

MARYANNE:      Well hey there Brian!

BRIAN:                  Well hey there blushing Victorian caroler MaryAnne.

ALASTAIR:           Don’t break character! HUMBUG! You there idol street urchin! What business do you have with Scrooge?

BRIAN:                  Good King Wenceslas was first published in 1853 by English hymnwriter John Mason Neale with music editor Thomas Helmore in a musical publication called Carols for Christmas-Tide. As stated in the script these events take place in 1843, a full 10 years before the song was first written. May I suggest the timeless classic Silent Night?

BISHOP:               Uhh…look I only have musical notes for Good King Whatshisface.

ALASTAIR:           Just play the damned song! AMATEURS!

BRIAN:                  Did you know that Silent Night was composed by Franz Xaver Gruber on a cold winter evening in the small town of…

ALASTAIR:           Shut up Brian!

TARQUIN:           Please be quiet Brian!

PETER:                  Shut up Brian!

BRIAN:                  Okay then! I’ll see you in the Past. (laughs)

BRIAN EXITS.

MARYANNE:      Oh Brian! I see what you did there…

PETER:                  (Coughs) Let’s give a spirited round of God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen my dear Martha!

ANNOYING CAROLING CROONER AND MARTHA CRATCHIT SING GOD REST YE MERRY GENTLEMEN.

God rest ye merry, gentlemen

Let nothing you dismay

Remember, Christ, our Saviour

Was born on Christmas day

 

To save us all from Satan's power

When we were gone astray

O, tidings of comfort and joy,

Comfort and joy

O, tidings of comfort and joy

SCROOGE:           Cratchit! WHAT IS THAT CATERWAILING?

BOB:                      Carolers sir.

SCROOGE:           Get those cretins off my door or so help me…

BOB:                      Yes sir, of course sir.

BOB GETS UP FROM DESK AND EXITS TO STREET.

MARTHA:            Father!

PETER:                  A Merry Christmas Eve father!

BOB:                      Hush Martha my dear! Peter! It’s not time yet. Pray, wait around the corner and please don’t vex Mr. Scrooge. He’s in a particularly foul mood. If he knew who you were…

MARTHA:            Honestly father…

BOB:                      Now, now…please my dears.

PETER:                  We’ll meet you at home father with a hot mug and a game of blind man’s bluff.! Come Martha, first there are mysteries to solve.

PETER AND MARTHA EXIT.

BOB WALKS BACK IN AS SCROOGE GETS UP FROM HIS DESK.

SCROOGE:           (Mumbles) That’s not the line. (Sighs) You sent that rabble away Cratchit?

BOB:                      Yes sir.

SCROOGE:           What is this world coming to Cratchit? And you, you’ll want the whole day tomorrow, I suppose?

BOB:                      If quite convenient, Sir.

SCROOGE:           It's not convenient, and it's not fair.  If I was to stop half-a-crown for it, you'd think yourself ill-used, I'll be bound? And yet, you don't think me ill-used, when I pay a day's wages for no work.

BOB:                      It's only once a year, Mr. Scrooge.

SCROOGE:           A poor excuse for picking a man's pocket every twenty-fifth of December,

SCROOGE:           But I suppose you must have the whole day. Be here all the earlier next morning!

BOB:                      I will. I promise and a Merry…evening sir.

SCROOGE EXITS. MARLEY EXCITEDLY RUNS AROUND DIMMING LIGHTS, CLOSES AND LOCKS THE DOOR.

NARRATOR #1:  The clerk, with the long ends of his white comforter dangling below his waist, went down a slide on Cornhill twenty times before slapdashing for home in Camden Town through the fog bound and icy streets.

BOB:                      Christmas at last! A Merry Christmas to all! God save you!

BOB RUNS OFFSTAGE.

SFX: CURTAIN CLOSES. SIGN DESCENDS.

TITLE: SCENE CHANGE.

MEDIA: SCENE 3 TRANSITION.WAV

SFX: CURTAIN OPENS. SIGN ASCENDS.

MEDIA: PAGES TURN TO SHOW:  STAVE I CONT. A GHASTLY VISITATION

MEDIA: MUSIC

SCENE 3: EXT. SCROOGE’S HOUSE. NIGHT.

SCROOGE SLOWLY WALKS ACROSS THE SQUARE TO HIS HOME.

NARRATOR #2:  Scrooge meanwhile crept over the cobblestone street in the opposite direction of Cratchit to take his usual dinner at a melancholy tavern before he too made for home at a much slower gait. He made his way to the very chambers once occupied by his long since passed partner. To the passersby who passed Scrooge that night as he cane clattered his way through streets as cold as the grave, it seemed that his shadow cast a little too darkly upon the pave.

NARRATOR #1:  Scrooge’s home was but a gloomy suite of rooms in an equally dreary building, now long since abandoned by those who wished to call it home. Curtainless windows of rooms now let out as offices stared back at Scrooge as he opened the gate and groped his way through the yard.

NARRATOR #2:  Now, it is a fact, that there was nothing at all particular about the knocker on the door, except that it was very large. Let it also be borne in mind that Scrooge had not bestowed one thought on Marley, since his last mention of his seven-years’ dead partner that afternoon. And then let any man explain to me, if he can, how it happened that Scrooge, having his key in the lock of the door, saw in the knocker, without its undergoing any intermediate process of change—not a knocker, but Marley’s face!

SFX: CAPPY FACE APPEARS.

ALASTAIR:           (Stammers and yells) TARQUIN! What in the hell is that?

TARQUIN:           Sorry sir what page are you on?

ALASTAIR:           No, not my line! What is THAT!

TARQUIN:           The quite large and cheery visage of a product mascot named Cappy sir.

ALASTAIR:           Well where’s the door knocker?

TARQUIN:           We couldn’t locate one, but I got quite a bargain on this one sir and if you squint like this a bit…it kind of looks like Jacob Marley.

ALASTAIR:           Amateurs! Bah!

SCROOGE ENTERS DOOR AND MAKES HIS WAY UPSTAIRS.

NARRATOR #1:  Scrooge, startled by the dreadful apparition, fastened the door, walked across his hall and made his way upstairs to his dark chambers. Darkness is cheap, and Scrooge liked it. After inspecting his quarters, he closed his door and locked himself in, no, double-locked himself in. He put on his dressing-gown and slippers and sat down before the fire to take his gruel.

NARRATOR #2:  It was a very low fire indeed; nothing on such a bitter night. He was obliged to sit close to it, and brood over it, before he could extract the least sensation of warmth from such a handful of fuel. The fireplace was an old one, built by some Dutch merchant long ago, above it was mounted an angelic messenger descending through the air. Upon it, fashioned from the disjoined fragments of his thoughts, Scrooge fancied old Marley’s face upon it.

SCROOGE:           Humbug!

SCROOGE DRESSES IN BATHROBE AND SITS IN HIS CHAIR.

NARRATOR #1:  With great astonishment and with a strange, inexplicable dread there quite suddenly was heard the sound of bells, long since disused and every cobweb covered clock throughout the house began to ring.

SCROOGE:           It’s a humbug I say!

NARRATOR #2:  All at once the ringing and chiming ceased and Scrooge heard to his great terror a clanking noise, deep down below; as if some person were dragging a heavy chain over the casks in the wine-merchant’s cellar. Up and up, a step at a time getting closer.

SCROOGE:           It’s humbug still! I won’t believe it!

MARLEY:              Scrooooooooooooooooogeeeee!

SCROOGE:           No! I shall NOT believe it!

SCROOGES RISES FROM HIS CHAIR AND COWERS IN THE CORNER. THE DOOR FLIES OPEN AND MARLEY APPEARS.

SCROOGE:           How now! What do you want with me?

MARLEY:              Much!

SCROOGE:           Who are you?

MARLEY:              Ask me who I was.

SCROOGE:           Who were you then?

MARLEY:              In life I was your partner, Jacob Marley.

SCROOGE:           Can you -- can you sit down?

MARLEY:              I can.

SCROOGE:           Do it, then.

MARLEY SITS IN SCROOGE’S CHAIR.

MARLEY:              You don't believe in me.

SCROOGE:           I don't.

MARLEY:              What evidence would you have of my reality beyond that of your senses?

SCROOGE:           I don't know.

MARLEY:              Why do you doubt your senses?

SCROOGE:           Because a little thing affects them. A slight disorder of the stomach makes them cheat. You may be an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of an underdone potato. There's more of gravy than of grave about you, whatever you are!

MARLEY MOANS AND STANDS. SCROOGE IS TERRIFIED.

SCROOGE:           Mercy! Dreadful apparition, why do you trouble me?

MARLEY:              Man of the worldly mind! Do you believe in me or not?

SCROOGE:           I do. I must. But why do spirits walk the earth, and why do they come to me?

MARLEY:              It is required of every man that the spirit within him should walk abroad among his fellow-men, and travel far and wide; and if that spirit goes not go forth in life, it is condemned to do so after death. It is doomed to wander through the world -- oh, woe is me! -- and witness what it cannot share, but might have shared on earth, and turned to happiness!

SCROOGE:           You are fettered. Tell me why?

MARLEY:              I wear the chain I forged in life. I made it link by link, and yard by yard; I girded it on of my own free will, and of my own free will I wore it. Oh were you to know the weight and length of the strong coil you bear yourself. It was full as heavy and as long as this, seven Christmas Eves ago. You have laboured on it, since. It is a ponderous chain!

SCROOGE:           Jacob. Old Jacob Marley, tell me more. Speak comfort to me, Jacob.

MARLEY:              I have none to give. It comes from other regions, Ebenezer Scrooge, and is conveyed by other ministers, to other kinds of men. Nor can I tell you what I would. A very little more, is all permitted to me. I cannot rest, I cannot stay, I cannot linger anywhere. My spirit never walked beyond our counting-house -- mark me! --in life my spirit never roved beyond the narrow limits of our money-changing hole; and weary journeys lie before me!

SCROOGE:           You must have been very slow about it, Jacob.

MARLEY:              Slow!

SCROOGE:           Seven years dead. And travelling all the time?

MARLEY:              The whole time. No rest, no peace. Incessant torture of remorse.

SCROOGE:           You travel fast?

MARLEY:              On the wings of the wind.

SCROOGE:           You might have got over a great quantity of ground in seven years.

MARLEY:              Oh! captive, bound, and double-ironed! Not to know, that ages of incessant labour by immortal creatures, for this earth must pass into eternity before the good of which it is susceptible is all developed. Not to know that any Christian spirit working kindly in its little sphere, whatever it may be, will find its mortal life too short for its vast means of usefulness. Not to know that no space of regret can make amends for one life's opportunities misused! Yet such was I! Oh! such was I!

SCROOGE:           But you were always a good man of business, Jacob.

MARLEY:              Business! Mankind was my business. The common welfare was my business; charity, mercy, forbearance, and benevolence, were, all, my business. The dealings of my trade were but a drop of water in the comprehensive ocean of my business!

MARLEY:              At this time of the year, I suffer most. Why did I walk through crowds of fellow-beings with my eyes turned down, and never raise them to that blessed Star which led the Wise Men to a poor abode? Were there no poor homes to which its light would have conducted me! Hear me! My time is nearly gone.

SCROOGE:           I will. But don't be hard upon me! Don't be flowery, Jacob!

MARLEY:              How it is that I appear before you in a shape that you can see, I may not tell. I have sat invisible beside you many and many a day.

MARLEY:              That is no light part of my penance. I am here to-night to warn you, that you have yet a chance and hope of escaping my fate. A chance and hope of my procuring, Ebenezer.

SCROOGE:           You were always a good friend to me. Thank'ee!

MARLEY:              You will be haunted ... by Three Spirits.

SCROOGE:           Is that the chance and hope you mentioned, Jacob?

MARLEY:              It is.

SCROOGE:           I -- I think I'd rather not.

MARLEY:              Without their visits, you cannot hope to shun the path I tread. Expect the first to-morrow, when the bell tolls One.

SCROOGE:           Couldn't I take 'em all at once, and have it over, Jacob?

MARLEY:              Expect the second on the next night at the same hour. The third upon the next night when the last stroke of Twelve has ceased to vibrate. Look to see me no more; and look that, for your own sake, you remember what has passed between us.

MARLEY WALKS BACKWARD TOWARDS THE EDGE OF THE SECOND STORY AND THEN FAST TRAVELS AWAY, VANISHING.

NARRATOR #1:  With that Marley walks backward from him. Marley raised a hand, warning him to come no nearer. Marley vanished out into the night. With a pause, Scrooge approaches his door to see it closed and double-locked.

SCROOGE:           The door…still locked. The window…still closed. HUMBUG!

SCROOGE GETS INTO BED AND SLEEPS.

NARRATOR #2:  With that, Scrooge climbed into bed and fell into a deep sleep instantly. The fog built outside the window and as the fire died, the cold slithered in through the cracks in the walls and floor below to gain frosty purchase in Scrooge’s chamber. In the distance, reverberating throughout the room and waking him with a start the clock began to toll twelve.

SCROOGE:           Twelve? It was past two when I went to bed. Twelve! Why, it isn't possible. I can't have slept through a whole day and far into another night.

SCROOGE GETS UP.

NARRATOR #1:  Scrooge recalled Marley’s words that the spirit would visit him when the bell tolled one…and so Scrooge waited the hour. His clock quietly chimed one and…nothing.

SCROOGE:           Humph! Spirits….bahhhh!

SFX: LIGHTS ERUPT IN THE ROOM. THE DOOR OPENS AND THE SPIRIT ENTERS.

SPIRIT PAST:       Well hey there Scrooge!

SCROOGE:           Are you the Spirit, sir, whose coming was foretold to me?

SPIRIT PAST:       I am!

SCROOGE:           Who, and what are you?

SPIRIT PAST:       Well golly I am the Ghost of Christmas Past!

SCROOGE:           Long past?

SPIRIT PAST:       No silly billy. Your past.

SCROOGE:           I wonder if you might, er, put a hat on.

SPIRIT PAST:       What! Would you so soon pdut out, with worldly hands, the light I give?

SCROOGE:           I didn't mean to offend. Er, what business brings you here?

SPIRIT PAST:       Your welfare! (laughs)

SCROOGE:           Well, I'm much obliged, but I wonder if a good night's sleep wouldn't be more conducive to that end.

SPIRIT PAST:       Your reclamation, then. Rise! and let’s go through a magical walk through time! That’d be swell.

SCROOGE:           It's the middle of the night; it's below freezing; I'm wearing slippers, a dressing-gown, and a nightcap; I'm mortal. And I'm liable to fall.

SPIRIT PAST:       I’m going to poke you in the heart now and imbue you with my festive magical essence. Don’t worry you won’t fall! Stay close now! Time travel is nifty.

SFX: CURTAIN CLOSES. SIGN DESCENDS.

TITLE: SCENE CHANGE.

MEDIA: SCENE 4 TRANSITION.WAV

SFX: CURTAIN OPENS. SIGN ASCENDS.

MEDIA: PAGES TURN TO SHOW:  STAVE II THE FIRST OF THE THREE SPIRITS

DISSOLVE TO:

SCENE 4: EXT. COUNTRY ROAD. DAY.

SCROOGE:           Good Heaven! I was bred in this place. I was a boy here!

SPIRIT PAST:       Your lip is trembling. And what is that upon your cheek?

SCROOGE:           It's a pimple. I beg you, Spirit, lead me where you would.

SPIRIT PAST:       You recollect the way?

SCROOGE:           Remember it! I could walk it blindfold.

SPIRIT PAST:       Strange to have forgotten it for so many years! Let us go on.

SCROOGE AND SPIRIT WALK PAST 3 MANNEQUINS.

SCROOGE:           Look there! Spirit! I know those boys! Yes! Hello! Hello! It’s me Scrooge!

SPIRIT PAST:       Silly Scrooge. These are but shadows of the things that have been. They have no consciousness of us. Say! Look at that school! Isn’t it swell?

SCROOGE:           I…I remember…they all went home for Christmas. The place is deserted.

SPIRIT PAST:       Pardon me, but the school is NOT quite deserted. A solitary child, neglected by his friends, is left there still.

SCROOGE:           I know it.

SCROOGE AND THE SPIRIT WALK INTO THE SCHOOLHOUSE.

SPIRIT PAST:       Golly this place is depressing. Can you imagine going to school here? (Laughs) Oops. I guess you can!

SCROOGE:           There…in that room.

A BOY IS SITTING AT A DESK AND STARING INTO SPACE.

SPIRIT PAST:       Yes…before a small fire lost in thoughts and to imagination of brighter places, but with the color bleeding out each year that the melancholy of this place dimming the light within him. Look at me wax poetic (laughs)

SCROOGE:           Poor boy! I wish ... but it's too late now.

SPIRIT PAST:       What is?

SCROOGE:           Nothing. Nothing. There was a boy and girl singing a Christmas carol at my window last night. I should like to have given them something. that's all.

SPIRIT PAST:       Whyever were you sent to this dreadful place?

SCROOGE:           My mother in bearing me to life, lost hers. My father, he never forgave me for that transgression. He would scarcely bear to look at me, so it was easier for him that I was far from sight and mind.

SPIRIT PAST:       Well gee that must’ve been hard for a boy…

SCROOGE:           LIFE is hard spirit. Age doesn’t bring wisdom. It is the grit that grinds the polished soul of you until you are hard as flint and untouchable to hold. I was a fool back then, unseeing of the way of the world.

SPIRIT PAST:       You didn’t always think so. Let us see another Christmas!

A WOMAN RUNS IN AND THE BOY GETS UP.

SCROOGE:           (whispers) Fan...

FAN:                      Ebenezer! Dear, dear brother. I have come to bring you home, dear brother! (sings) To bring you home, home, home!

YNG SCROOGE: (stunned) Home, little Fan?

FAN:                      Yes! Home, for good and all. Home, for ever and ever. Father is so much kinder than he used to be, that home's like Heaven!

YNG SCROOGE: For you, perhaps. But not for me. He doesn't know me or even what I look like. Same as I hardly know you, now that you're quite a woman.

FAN:                      He spoke so gently to me one dear night when I was going to bed, that I was not afraid to ask him once more if you might come home; and he said Yes, you should; and sent me in a coach to bring you. And you're to be a man! And are never to come back here; but first, we're to be together all the Christmas long, and have the merriest time in all the world.

YNG SCROOGE: You are quite a woman, little Fan!

THE BOY AND GIRL RUN OFF.

SPIRIT PAST:       Always a delicate creature, whom a breath might have withered. But she had a large heart!

SCROOGE:           So she had.

SPIRIT PAST:       She died a woman. And had, as I think, children.

SCROOGE:           One child.

SPIRIT PAST:       True. Your nephew!

SCROOGE:           Yes.

SPIRIT PAST:       Here…over here. Now this is a Christmas you really kicked your heels up!

THE SPIRIT AND SCROOGE WALK OVER TO FEZZIWIG’S.

FEZZIWIG SITS AT A DESK AND TWO MEN DASH ABOUT.

SCROOGE:           No! It can’t be!

SPIRIT PAST:       Know it?

SCROOGE:           Know it! I apprenticed here! Why, it's old Fezziwig! Bless his heart; it's Fezziwig alive again!

FEZZIWIG:           Yo ho, there! Ebenezer! Dick!

TWO MEN RUN TO FEZZIWIG. FEZZIWIG RISES FROM DESK.

SCROOGE:           Dick Wilkins, to be sure! Bless me, yes. There he is. He was very much attached to me, was Dick. Poor Dick! Dear, dear!

FEZZIWIG:           Yo ho, my boys! No more work to-night. Christmas Eve, Dick. Christmas, Ebenezer! Let's have the shutters up... before a man can say, Jack Robinson!

FEZZIWIG:           Hilli-ho! Clear away, my lads, and let's have lots of room here! Hilli-ho, Dick! Chirrup, Ebenezer!

THE THREE FIGURES DASH ABOUT.

SPIRIT PAST:       A small matter to make these silly folks so full of gratitude.

SCROOGE:           Small!

1. FEZZIWIG: Merry Christmas me dears! And now a feast a glorious feast and we shall have much dancing!

FEZZIWIG:           Mrs. Fezziwig! HA HA HA!

1. FEZZIWIG: (laughs) Oh my dear! We’ve brought quite the feast dear husband! Dear friends there will be now be happiness and contentment the like of which none of us has seen before! Dear Ebenezer begin!

FEZZIWIG:           Come my dear! Let us show these young’uns how we did it in OUR day! (laughs)

SOMEONE BEGINS PLAYING GUITAR ON MR. FEZZIWIG’S DESK. EVERYONE EXCEPT OLD SCROOGE AND THE SPIRIT BEGIN MOTHMAN DANCING.

1. FEZZIWIG: Oh! Dear me I shouldn’t have so many spiced sugar cakes!

FEZZIWIG:           Your diet is going swimmingly and there’s more in the new year!

SCROOGE:           There…Marley…

MARLEY ENTERS AND WALKS UP TO SCROOGE. EVERYONE CONTINUES DANCING IN A VARIETY OF DANCES IN THE BACKGROUND.

MARLEY:              What an interesting man Mr Fezziwig is.

YNG SCROOGE: The sweetest! Look at him dancin' with the Missus -- and the look on his face?

MARLEY:              I did, isn’t this all a bit…excessive?

YNG SCROOGE: He was in Heaven -- and fully deserved to be!

MARLEY:              And where the devil did he find that fiddler?

YNG SCROOGE: Oh, wasn't he marvelous? Nothing's too good for Fezziwig. I'd say this year's party was finer than the last -- if such a thing is possible.

MARLEY:              Yes, he is (sarcastic) marvelous, isn’t he? I’m surprised someone like you was so easily bought.

YNG SCROOGE: Bought? Whatever do you mean?

MARLEY:              People like Fezziwig…inherited business but not a day of proper schooling. Look around? In practice outdated, in investment lacking. Industrialization is coming…any fool can see that. But Fezziwig lacks neither acumen nor a shrewd eye for business, so what he lacks upstairs…he buys loyalty, curries favor with things such as this.

YNG SCROOG:   You’re wrong. He’s not like that?

MARLEY:              No? I see me in you. You have a keen mind…don’t squander it here and wait until the lights go out. Come see me when you’re ready. Remember: you can’t eat loyalty anymore than you can lay a foundation with it.

SPIRIT PAST:       Marley did have a point. Fezziwig spent but a few pounds of your mortal money: three or four perhaps. Is that so much that he deserves this praise?

SCROOGE:           It isn't that. It isn't that, Spirit. He has the power to render us happy or unhappy; to make our service light or burdensome; a pleasure or a toil. Say that his power lies in words and looks; in things so slight and insignificant that it is impossible to add and count 'em up: what then? The happiness he gives, is quite as great as if it cost a fortune.

SPIRIT PAST:       What is the matter?

SCROOGE:           Nothing particular.

SPIRIT PAST:       Something, I think?

SCROOGE:           No. No. I should like to be able to say a word or two to my clerk just now. That's all.

SPIRIT PAST:       Gee! Look there! That’s a face you should remember well.

SCROOGE:           Belle…

SPIRIT PAST:       Fezziwig’s daughter…you were going to marry her weren’t you?

SCROOGE:           Yes…

1. FEZZIWIG: Dear Ebenezer you remember our daughter Isabel?

YNG SCROOGE: Y…yes…of course. Belle…Isabel I mean….Miss Fezziwig I mean…

1. FEZZIWIG: I’ll leave you too to talk. Cheery bye!

ISABEL:                 Enjoying the party Ebbie?

YNG SCROOGE: (Nervous) Umm…yes quite nice.

ISABEL:                 Well?

YNG SCROOGE: Sorry, yes?

ISABEL:                 It’s customary for YOU to ask me to dance.

YNG SCROOGE: Oh! Right, yes…would you care to dance?

ISABEL:                 You’re quite the gentleman Ebenezer Scrooge!

THE TWO WALK TO THE CENTER OF THE ROOM AND BEGIN CROUCH DANCING.

SPIRIT PAST:       Welp, the night is waxing…or maybe it’s waning (laughs). Chirrup Ebbie! We have more to see.

INT. FAN’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

THE SPIRIT BRINGS SCROOGE TO DIM BEDROOM.

SCROOGE:           No, no not this Spirit…please.

YNG SCROOGE: Fan? Fan can you hear me?

FAN:                      (weakly) Eb…Ebenezer?

YNG SCROOGE: Yes…I’m here.

FAN:                      Is…is he alright?

YNG SCROOGE: Yes, the doctor said he’s fine. Quite healthy. Just like you dear heart.

FAN:                      No I gave him mine…

YNG SCROOGE: No! You’re fine Fan. You must be fine. You have to live Fan. Don’t leave me.

FAN:                      Promise me… (gasps)

YNG SCROOGE: Anything. Anything in creation. Fan? Fan? No….no…

SCROOGE EXITS IN GRIEF.

FAN:                      Promise me you’re take care of my boy. (Death rattle)

SCROOGE:           I didn’t know. I couldn’t have known. Fan…I’m sorry. I’m sorry Fan I didn’t know.

SPIRIT PAST:       Come…the hours move swiftly now and so must we.

SPIRIT AND SCROOGE WALK TOWARDS A GRAVEYARD AND PARK.

EXT. GRAVEYARD – DAY

SCROOGE IS SITTING ON A BENCH WHILE BELLE STANDS.

SCROOGE:           No spirit…not this day. (whispers) My Belle ...

ISABEL:                 It matters little, to you, very little. Another idol has displaced me; and if it can cheer and comfort you in time to come, as I would have tried to do, I have no just cause to grieve.

YNG SCROOGE: What Idol has displaced you?

ISABEL:                 A golden one.

YNG SCROOGE: This is the even-handed dealing of the world! There is nothing on which it is so hard as poverty; and there is nothing it professes to condemn with such severity as the pursuit of wealth!

ISABEL:                 You fear the world too much. All your other hopes have merged into the hope of being beyond the chance of its sordid reproach. I have seen your nobler aspirations fall off one by one, until the master-passion, Gain, engrosses you. Have I not?

YNG SCROOGE: What then? Even if I have grown so much wiser, what then? I am not changed towards you. Am I?

ISABEL:                 Our engagement is an old one. It was made when we were both poor and content to be so, until, in good season, we could improve our worldly fortune by our patient industry. You are changed. When it was made, you were another man.

YNG SCROOGE: (impatiently) I was a boy. 'Tis true, I am not now what I was then.

ISABEL:                 I am. That which promised happiness when we were one in heart, is fraught with misery now that we are two. How often and how keenly I have thought of this, I will not say. It is enough that I have thought of it and can release you from our engagement.

YNG SCROOGE: Have I ever sought release?

ISABEL:                 In words? No. Never.

YNG SCROOGE: In what, then?

ISABEL:                 In a changed nature; in an altered spirit; in another atmosphere of life; another Hope as its great end. In everything that made my love of any worth or value in your sight. If this had never been between us, tell me, would you seek me out and try to win me now? Ah, no!

YNG SCROOGE: You think not.

ISABEL:                 I would gladly think otherwise if I could, Heaven knows! When I have learned a Truth like this, I know how strong and irresistible it must be. But if you were free to-day, to-morrow, yesterday, can even I believe that you would choose a dowerless girl, whose father sits on the verge of poverty a business in ruins -- you who, in your very confidence with her, weigh everything by Gain: or, choosing her, if for a moment you were false enough to your one guiding principle to do so, do I not know that your repentance and regret would surely follow? I do; and I release you from our engagement. With a full heart, for the love of him you once were.

ISABEL:                 You may -- the memory of what is past half makes me hope you will -- have pain in this. A very, very brief time, and you will dismiss the recollection of it, gladly, as an unprofitable dream, from which it happened well that you awoke. May you be happy in the life you have chosen!

BELLE STORMS OFF. SCROOGE JUST SITS THERE.

SCROOGE:           Spirit! Show me no more! Conduct me home. Why do you delight to torture me?

SPIRIT PAST:       You made me silly billy. One shadow more!

SCROOGE:           No more! No more. I don't wish to see it. Show me no more!

SPIRIT PAST:       Tough titty said the kitty (laughs).

SPIRIT TAKES SCROOGE BACK TO FEZZIWIGS

EXT. FEZZIWIGS – DAY

MARLEY APPROACHES YOUNG SCROOGE.

MARLEY:              Full stock of inventory of furnishings and assets tallied here. We should be able to offload most of this and convert the building into a proper place of business.

YNG SCROOGE: Most of it is junk, punch bowls, Christmas decorations…

MARLEY:              Look there…Old Fezziwig…

FEZZIWIG ENTERS.

FEZZIWIG:           Ebenezer. How could you?

MARLEY:              What did I say Ebenezer eh? When you can no longer be bought they always say the very same thing.

YNG SCROOGE: If not us then someone else Fezziwig. Sign and then you can be off.

FEZZIWIG:           She was right…how you’ve changed.

MARLEY:              Your things are in the carriage outside. This is our property now. Marley and Scrooge…

FEZZIWIG LEAVES.

YNG SCROOGE: No Jacob. Scrooge and Marley…

MARLEY:              (Laughs) Yes…a keen mind. I think this is the beginning of a most profitable partnership.

SCROOGE:           And it was Jacob…it was. Spirit enough!

SPIRIT PAST:       Oh! It was very profitable…foreclosers, imprisonment, families in the cold, the orphanage, businessmen to ruins to drunkenness and despair. But the worst thing? The very worst?

MRS DILBER RUNS IN.

MRS. DILBER:     Oh Mr. Scrooge! Mr. Scrooge sir!

SCROOGE:           Mrs. Dilber? Can she see me?

SPIRIT PAST:       She can now…this was your final night of partnership.

MRS. DILBER:     If you please Mr. Scrooge, the doctor said Mr. Marley’s at death’s door. Last rites and all that. The Undertaker showed up right out of the fog and is sittin’ there like a specter on his door. Oh it’s dreadful! He sent for you.

SCROOGE:           Sent for me? Yes…of course I’ll come.

MRS. DILBER:     You won’t sir? But…

SCROOGE:           No I’ll go to him. I’ll go.

MRS. DILBER:     I’ll try and keep him with us then until you finish your day of business. Important business I’m very sure.

MRS. DILBER LEAVES.

SCROOGE:           Wait! Mrs. Dilber!

SPIRIT PAST:       But that’s what happened. Not what you want to happen. You were his only friend in the world and as Death himself stood at Jacob’s feet and at last he saw his life’s burden in chains upon the floor waiting for him his only thought was for you. To save you. But what did you do?

SCROOGE:           STOP!

SPIRIT PAST:       You worked until close of business. And the deed was done. And the deed was yours, you took everything that was his…a tidy sum, a profitable business merger. Why you even sleep in the bed he breathed his last in. (Laughs)

SCROOGE:           Spirit! Remove me from this place.

SPIRIT PAST:       I told you these were shadows of the things that have been. That they are what they are, do not blame me! (Laughs and continues laughing annoyingly)

SCROOGE:           Remove me! I cannot bear it! STOP! PUT OUT THIS LIGHT! SEND ME BACK!

SFX: CURTAIN CLOSES. SIGN DESCENDS.

TITLE: SCENE CHANGE.

MEDIA: SCENE 5 TRANSITION.WAV

SFX: CURTAIN OPENS. SIGN ASCENDS.

MEDIA: PAGES TURN TO SHOW:  STAVE III THE SECOND OF THE THREE SPIRITS

DISSOLVE TO:

SCENE 5: INT. SCROOGE’S ROOMS - NIGHT.

SFX: LIGHTING IS DARK.

SCROOGE IS BACK IN BED.

NARRATOR #1:  Now, Marley's Ghost had warned Scrooge that a second spirit would haunt him at the stroke of one. I don't mind telling you that Scrooge was now prepared for a good broad field of strange appearances, and that nothing between a baby and a rhinoceros would have astonished him very much. By this time, he was ready for almost anything ...

SFX: CHURCH BELLS STRIKE ONE.

NARRATOR #2: ... But, you see, he was not by any means ready for nothing ...

And nothing is exactly what happens. Or not…

PRESENT:             Scrooooooge? Come down here, Scrooge!

SCROOGE RISES AND WALKS TO EDGE OF HIS SECOND FLOOR HOME.

SCROOGE:           Who is it? Who is that out there?

PRESENT:             Come down! Come down out of those melancholy walls and know me better, man!

SCROOGE GOES DOWNSTAIRS AND EXITS HOME TO MEET THE SPIRIT.

PRESENT:             I am the Ghost of Christmas Present! Look upon me! You have never seen the like of me before?

SCROOGE:           Never.

PRESENT:             Have never walked forth with my elder brothers born in these later years?

SCROOGE:           I don't think I have. I am afraid I have not. Have you had many brothers, Spirit?

PRESENT:             Approximately eighteen hundred and forty-two.

SCROOGE:           A tremendous family to provide for!

PRESENT:             Come in and know me better man!

SCROOGE:           Yes. Spirit, conduct me where you will. I went forth last night on compulsion, and I learnt a lesson which is working now. To-night, if you have aught to teach me, let me profit by it.

PRESENT:             Touch my robe!

SCROOGE:           Is something supposed to happen?

PRESENT:             No. We’re just going to walk over there but it’s slippery.

SFX: LIGHTING CHANGES TO DAY.

EXT. CITY STREET – DAY

PEOPLE WALK ABOUT.

SCROOGE:           It’s so bright.

PRESENT:             It’s Christmas Day! Peace on Earth…good will to men! All around you abundance rejoices. Celebrations, feasts…

SCROOGE:           …and Christmas pudding. Yes, yes I remember how it used to be Spirit I can’t deny it. Is there a peculiar flavor in what you sprinkle from your torch?

PRESENT:             There is. My own.

SCROOGE:           Would it apply to any kind of dinner on this day?

PRESENT:             To any kindly given. To a poor one most.

SCROOGE:           Why to a poor one most?

PRESENT:             Because it needs it most.

SCROOGE:           Spirit. I wonder you, of all the beings in the many worlds about us, should desire to cramp these people’s opportunities of innocent enjoyment.

PRESENT:             I!??

SCROOGE:           You would deprive them of their means of dining every seventh day, often the only day on which they can be said to dine at all. Forgive me if I am wrong. It has been done in your name, or at least in that of your family.

PRESENT:             There are some upon this earth of yours, who lay claim to know us, and who do their deeds of passion, pride, ill-will, hatred, envy, bigotry, and selfishness in our name, who are as strange to us and all our kith and kin, as if they had never lived. Remember that, and charge their doings on themselves, not us.

SPIRIT TAKES SCROOGE TO BOB’S HOUSE.

MRS. CRATCHIT AND BELINDA SIT AT TABLE.

PRESENT:             Now come, do you know this place?

SCROOGE:           I don’t believe so Spirit?

PRESENT:             This is the home of your overworked, underpaid servant…Bob Cratchit.

ALASTAIR:           What is…oh for pity’s sake! TARQUIN!

TARQUIN OPENS DOOR AND RUNS IN.

TARQUIN:           Did I miss my cue?

ALASTAIR:           No! What the hell is that thing? Where’s our Tiny Tim?

TARQUIN:           Ah. Well. So sorry sir. He appears to have become a mutated horror with crystals erupted from his skin and the pallor of raw hamburg sir.

ALASTAIR:           This is unacceptable. We can’t have a ROBOT Tim? What am I supposed to call him? 1 Ton Tim?

TARQUIN:           (Laughs) 1 Ton Tim…that’s clever sir…

ALASTAIR:           What is he doing now? Oh that’s nice…we’re having a cheery Christmas moment with a poor family and there’s Tim over in the corner throwing beer nuts at everyone and spitting out cold ale.

TARQUIN:           Best we can do sir.

BRIAN:                  Golly this is exciting! (Laughs) Is this improv? I love improv! Perhaps I…I mean the Spirit of Christmas Past can teach Scrooge how to achieve an effortless sheepshank knot in no less than…

ALASTAIR:           SHUT UP BRANDON! BACK IN CHARACTER! EVERYONE!

TARQUIN RUNS OUT AND CLOSES DOOR.

SCROOGE:           Pray spirit I feel the song of the day all around me filling me with love and light. Lead on…

EXT. BOB CRATCHIT'S HOME

MS.CRATCHIT:   What has ever got your precious father then. And your brother, Tiny Tim! And Martha and Peter wasn’t as late last Christmas Day by half-an-hour! Honestly…Caroling in the streets on the day before dinner!

MARTHA AND PETER ENTER ONE AFTER ANOTHER AND CLOSE THE DOOR.

MARTHA:            Here's Martha, mother!

PETER:                  And Peter with 2 shillings in his pocket after a merry morning of caroling.

BELINDA:             Here's Martha and Peter, mother! Hurrah! There's such a goose, Martha!

1. CRATCHIT: Why, bless your heart alive, my dear, how late you are!

MARTHA:            We'd a deal of work to finish up last night and had to clear away this morning, mother!

1. CRATCHIT: Well! Never mind so long as you are come. Sit ye down before the fire, my dear, and have a warm, Lord bless ye!

BELINDA:             No, no! There's father coming. Hide, Martha and Peter, hide!

BOB OPENS THE DOOR AND ENTERS, CLOSING IT.

BOB:                      Hello my dears! A merry Christmas! Why, where's our Martha? And Peter?

1. CRATCHIT: Not coming.

BOB:                      Not coming! Not coming upon Christmas Day!

MARTHA:            HUZZAH!

PETER:                  Oh father…of COURSE we’d be here.

1. CRATCHIT: And how did little Tim behave in church?

BOB:                      As good as gold, and better. Somehow he gets thoughtful, sitting by himself so much, and thinks the strangest things you ever heard.

1 TON TIM:         Would you like some beer nuts to wash down a tall glass of Old Possum?

BOB                       He told me, coming home, that he hoped the people in church saw him, because he was a cripple, and it might be pleasant to them to remember upon Christmas Day, who made lame beggars walk, and blind men see.

1 TON TIM:         Who needs smarts when you’ve got strength and charisma partner! How about a nice cold Blackwater Brew? Please drink responsibly.

BOB:                      He's growing stronger and heartier every day, isn't he?

1. CRATCHIT: (quietly) Yes, dear. He is.

MARTHA:            The goose is cooked! The goose is cooked!

PETER:                  Oh the pudding is singing in the cupboard and might I say the Lord Mayor himself couldn’t ask for a finer one!

SCROOGE:           Hmmph. Not much of a goose.

1 TON TIM:         Bless us, O Lord with a tall glass of New River Red Ale made from the finest artisan razorgrain and bloodleaf. New River Red Ale…have some!

BOB:                      Well said my son! My dear, I don't believe there ever was such a goose cooked. So tender.

MARTHA:            And delicious.

PETER:                  And big.

MS CRATCHIT:   (wryly) And cheap.

1 TON TIME:       It's lovely, Mother. This a goose we shall remember for as long as we live. Warning: consumption may result in 30 rads.

1. CRATCHIT: Thank you, Tim.

SCROOGE:           Such a meager feast for so many…

PRESENT:             And yet so richly appreciated. Every forkful, every bite cooked to the best of her ability with the truest and deepest of love.

SCROOGE:           I was…offered such a feast. At more than one table in more years than I can count.

1. CRATCHIT: I can't stand to look at the pudding. Suppose it should not be done enough? Suppose it should break in turning out?

BOB:                      (mock horror) Suppose somebody should have got over the wall of the back-yard, and stolen it, while we were eating the goose?

PETER:                  FATHER!

MARTHA:            Perish the thought Father that’s wicked!

1 TON TIM:         Error code X25 DASH B. Oil leak detected.

BOB:                      Oh, a wonderful pudding! A Merry Christmas to us all, my dears. God bless us!

1 TON TIM:         God bless us every one! Fatal error. Please consult owner’s manual.

SCROOGE:           Spirit ... tell me if Tiny Tim will live.

PRESENT:             I see a vacant seat in the poor chimneycorner, and a crutch without an owner, carefully preserved. If these shadows remain unaltered by the Future, the child will die.

SCROOGE:           No, no. Oh, no, kind Spirit! say he will be spared.

PRESENT:             If these shadows remain unaltered by the Future, none other of my race will find him here. What then? (assuming Scrooge's voice) If he be like to die, he had better do it, and decrease the surplus population.

BOB:                      Mr Scrooge!

SCROOGE:           Bob?

BOB:                      I'll give you Mr Scrooge, the Founder of the Feast!

1. CRATCHIT: (blushes) The Founder of the Feast indeed! I wish I had him here. I'd give him a piece of my mind to feast upon, and I hope he'd have a good appetite for it.

PETER:                  The mere mention of the man fouls the punch.

BOB:                      (gently chiding) My dear, the children; Christmas Day.

1. CRATCHIT: It should be Christmas Day, I am sure, on which one drinks the health of such an odious, stingy, hard, unfeeling man as Mr Scrooge. You know he is, Robert! Nobody knows it better than you do, poor fellow!

BOB:                      My dear…Christmas Day.

1. CRATCHIT: I'll drink his health for your sake and the Day's, not for his. Long life to him. A merry Christmas and a happy new year! He'll be very merry and very happy, I have no doubt!

PRESENT:             Come now…we have another stop to make.

SPIRIT TAKES SCROOGE AROUND THE CORNER TO FRED’S HOUSE.

INT. HIS NEPHEW'S SITTING-ROOM – NIGHT

FRED STANDS WHILE CLARA, TOPPER, CORA SIT.

FRED:                    (Laughs)

SCROOGE:           Fred?

FRED:                    He said that Christmas was a humbug, as I live! He believed it too!

CLARA:                 More shame for him dear husband!

TOPPER:               I should very much like to meet your uncle, Fred. The droll way in which you portray him makes me curious.

FRED:                    He's a comical old fellow, that's the truth: and not so pleasant as he might be. However, his offences carry their own punishment, and I have nothing to say against him.

CLARA:                 I'm sure he is very rich, Fred. At least you always tell me so.

FRED:                    What of that, my dear? His wealth is of no use to him. He don't do any good with it. He don't make himself comfortable with it. He hasn't the satisfaction of thinking --ha, ha, ha! -- that he is ever going to benefit Us with it.

CLARA:                 I have no patience with him.

CORA:                   Nor I.

TOPPER:               But have you patience with me Miss Cora?

CORA:                   Oh Mr. Topper you’re incorrigible!

FRED:                    Oh, I have patience for him. How can I not! I am sorry for him; I couldn't be angry with him if I tried. Who suffers by his ill whims? Himself, always. Here, he takes it into his head to dislike us, and he won't come and dine with us. What's the consequence? He don't lose much of a dinner.

CLARA:                 Indeed, I think he loses a very good dinner. Really, Fred, I think you're being awfully charitable.

FRED:                    If that's so, it may be because my mother, God rest her saintly soul, was very fond of him. She loved him.

CLARA:                 But do go on, Fred. (to the guests) He never finishes what he begins to say. He is such a ridiculous fellow!

FRED:                    I was only going to say, that the consequence of his taking a dislike to us, and not making merry with us, is, as I think, that he loses some pleasant moments, which could do him no harm. I am sure he loses pleasanter companions than he can find in his own thoughts, either in his mouldy old office, or his dusty chambers. I mean to give him the same chance every year, whether he likes it or not, for I pity him. He may rail at Christmas till he dies, but he can't help thinking better of it -- I defy him -- if he finds me going there, in good temper, year after year, and saying Uncle Scrooge, how are you? If it only puts him in the vein to leave his poor clerk fifty pounds, that's something; and I think I shook him yesterday.

TOPPER:               Enough with Old Scrooge! Let’s play some games!

CORA:                   Yes! Quite right! Mr. Topper refill my punch!

CLARA:                 Yes! Excellent!

SCROOGE:           Games! Oh! Party games spirit! I remember them well.

TOPPER:               Now, then, it's a Game called Yes and No. (to Fred) Since you're the host, you'll go first.

SCROOGE:           (to the Spirit) I think we should at least stay until the guests have departed.

FRED:                    (to Topper) Oh, dear. What do I have to do?

PRESENT:             I'm afraid that cannot be done.

SCROOGE:           Here is a new game. One half hour, Spirit, only one!

TOPPER:               (to Fred) You think of something, anything, and the rest of us must find out what it is; But you may only answer our questions 'yes' or 'no', as the case may be.

FRED:                    Ah, all right. Well .... Oh, I've got it.

TOPPER:               You've thought of something?

FRED:                    Yes. Fire away.

CORA:                   Is it animal, vegetable, or mineral?

TOPPER:               No, no, no. It has to be a question he can answer 'yes' or 'no'. (to Fred) Are you thinking of an animal?

FRED:                    (grins) Yes.

CORA:                   Living or dead?

TOPPER:               WRONG! (Laughs)

CLARA:                 Is it living?

FRED:                    Yes.

CLARA:                 A wild animal?

FRED:                    (laughs) Well ...

CORA:                   Can it be found in London?

FRED:                    Yes. I'm afraid so.

CLARA:                 Does it live in a menagerie?

FRED:                    No! Wouldn't go near it.

CORA:                   Is it a horse?

FRED:                    No!

CLARA:                 Is it an ass?

FRED:                    No!

SCROOGE:           Is it a cow?

PRESENT:             These are but…

SCROOGE:           Shut up. I’m having fun.

CORA:                   Does it walk the streets?

FRED:                    Yes!

CLARA:                 Is it some kind of rat?

FRED:                    (laughs, clutches his sides) No! Maybe a pack-rat.

TOPPER:               Wait! Is it a man?

FRED:                    Yes!

CLARA:                 I have found it out! I know what it is, Fred! I know what it is!

TOPPER:               Well?  What is it? What?

CORA:                   It's your Uncle Scro-o-o-o-oge!

FRED:                    Yes!

PRESENT:             (Laughs) That’s a good one.

SCROOGE:           I…I wish to leave.

PRESENT:             No, no. Listen. He’s really quite fond of you.

CLARA:                 That's not fair! When I asked 'Is it an ass?', you should have answered 'yes'!

FRED:                    He has given us plenty of merriment, I am sure, and it would be ungrateful not to drink his health. I say, 'Uncle Scrooge!'"

TOPPER:               Quite right! To Uncle Scrooge!

CLARA:                 Uncle Scrooge!

FRED:                    A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to the old man, whatever he is! He wouldn't take it from me, but may he have it, nevertheless. Uncle Scrooge!

PRESENT:             Come…my time is almost up.

THE SPIRIT TAKES SCROOGE INTO THE SQUARE BEFORE THE GRAVEYARD.

EXT. THE SHADOW OF A CHURCH TOWER

SCROOGE:           Your hair is grey. Are spirits' lives so short?

PRESENT:             My life is very brief. It ends to-night.

SCROOGE:           To-night!

PRESENT:             To-night at midnight.

SCROOGE:           Forgive me if I am not justified in what I ask, but I see something strange, and not belonging to yourself, what are those creatures?

PRESENT:             Look upon them Scrooge.

SCROOGE:           No Spirit…I dare not…

PRESENT:             Oh, Man! look here. Look, look, down here!

THE SPIRIT STEPS ASIDE AND TWO MANNEQUINS IN RIDICULOUS OUTFITS ARE SEEN.

SCROOGE:           Spirit! are they yours?

PRESENT:             They are Man's. And they cling to me, appealing from their fathers. This boy is Ignorance. This girl is Want. Beware them both, and all of their degree, but most of all beware this boy, for on his brow I see that written which is Doom, unless the writing be erased. Deny it!

SCROOGE:           Have they no refuge or resource?

PRESENT:             (assuming Scrooge's voice) Are there no prisons? Are there no workhouses?

SFX: CLOCK BEGINS TO TOLL TWELVE.

PRESENT:             (Laughing)

SCROOGE:           Spirit! It’s so loud! SPIRIT!

THE SPIRIT FAST TRAVELS AWAY AND VANISHES.

SFX: CURTAIN CLOSES. SIGN DESCENDS.

TITLE: SCENE CHANGE.

MEDIA: SCENE 6 TRANSITION.WAV

SFX: CURTAIN OPENS. SIGN ASCENDS.

MEDIA: PAGES TURN TO SHOW:  STAVE IV THE LAST OF THE THREE SPIRITS

DISSOLVE TO:

SCENE 6: SAME SQUARE - NIGHT

SFX: THE SKY CHANGES COLOR FROM LIGHT TO DARK. FOG MACHINE STARTS.

A DARK FIGURE APPROACHES.

SCROOGE:           (to himself) Midnight. The last of the spirits.

SCROOGE:           I am in the presence of the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come?

FUTURE:              (Creepy voice) You are…

SCROOGE:           You are about to show me shadows of the things that have not happened, but will happen in the time before us. Is that so, Spirit?

FUTURE:              (Mocking) The shadows of things that have not happened, but will happen in the time before us…

SCROOGE:           Ghost of the Future! I fear you more than any spectre I have seen. But as I know your purpose is to do me good, and as I hope to live to be another man from what I was, I am prepared to bear you company, and do it with a thankful heart.

FUTURE:              ….thankffullllllll hearttttttttt

SCROOGE:           (Unnerved) Lead on! Lead on! The night is waning fast, and it is precious time to me, I know. Lead on, Spirit!

EXT. STREET CORNER – DAY

SPIRIT BRINGS SCROOGE TO A MARKET STALL WHERE CORA IS SELLING WARES AND 1^st GHOUL IS TALKING TO HER.

SCROOGE:           Yes, I know this gentleman Spirit

1^st GHOUL:          No, I don't know much about it, either way. I only know he's dead.

CORA:                   When did he die?

1^st GHOUL:          Last night, I believe.

CORA:                   Why, what was the matter with him? I thought he'd never die.

1^st GHOUL:          God knows. I visited him once and he practically threw me out calling Christmas a humbug.

CORA:                   What has he done with his money?

1^st GHOUL:          I haven't heard. Left it to his Company, perhaps. He hasn't left it to me. That's all I know. It's likely to be a very cheap funeral, for upon my life I don't know of anybody to go to it. Suppose we make up a party and volunteer? (laugh)

CORA:                   I don't mind going if a lunch is provided. But I must be fed, if I make one. (laugh)

1^st GHOUL:          Well, I am the most disinterested among you, after all, for I never wear black gloves, and I never eat lunch. But I'll offer to go, if anybody else will. When I come to think of it, I'm not at all sure that I wasn't his most particular friend; for we used to stop and speak whenever we met. Bye, bye!

1^ST GHOUL EXITS. FOCUS ON SCROOGE AND FUTURE AS CORA EXITS.

SCROOGE:           I am rather surprised that you should attach importance to conversations apparently so trivial.

FUTURE:              Yesssssssssssss…..trivial…..

SCROOGE:           They must have some hidden purpose, or else you wouldn't be showing them to me. Is that right?

FUTURE:              Is it rightttttttt?

SCROOGE:           Please Spirit don’t mock. These conversations could scarcely have any bearing on the death of Jacob, my old partner, for his death was in the Past, and this is the Future.

SCROOGE:           I can't help but notice that this is my accustomed corner, and I see by the clock that this is my usual time of day for being here... but I see no likeness of myself.

FUTURE:              Yesssss where could you beeeee Ebenezer?

SPIRIT WALKS OFF

SCROOGE:           Not that I'm surprised, you understand. You see, I've been revolving in my mind a, er, change of life. And I should like to think... that is, I rather hope... that my not being here is the result of my having carried out some, ah, resolutions regarding –

SCROOGE NOTICES AND RUNS AFTER HIM.

EXT. OLD JOE’S – DUSK

OLD JOE, MRS. DILBER AND THE UNDERTAKER ENTER BY OLD JOE’S.

MRS. DILBER:     Let me be the first and let the undertaker man alone be second! Look here, old Joe, here's a chance! If we haven't all met here without meaning it!

OLD JOE:              You couldn't have met in a better place. Come in! You were made free of it long ago, you know; and the other one ain't strangers. Oh! These old bones here, ain’t no older in this place as mine. Ha, ha! We're all suitable to our calling, we're well matched. Come in…come in!

SCROOGE:           Mrs. Dilber?

OLD JOE SITS. THEY ALL SIT.

UNDERTAKER:   What odds then! What odds, Mrs. Dilber? Every person has a right to take care of themselves. He always did!

MRS. DILBER:     That's true, indeed! No man more so.

UNDERTAKER:   Why then, don't stand staring as if you was afraid, woman; who's the wiser? We're not going to pick holes in each other's coats, I suppose?

OLD JOE:              No, indeed!

UNDERTAKER:   I should hope not.

MRS. DILBER:     Very well, then! That's enough. Who's the worse for the loss of a few things like these? Not a dead man, I suppose.

OLD JOE:              No, indeed!

MRS. DILBER:     If he wanted to keep 'em after he was dead, a wicked old screw, why wasn't he natural in his lifetime? If he had been, he'd have had somebody to look after him when he was struck with Death, instead of lying gasping out his last there, alone by himself.

UNDERTAKER:   It's the truest word that ever was spoke. It's a judgment on him.

MRS. DILBER:     I wish it was a little heavier judgment, and it should have been, you may depend upon it, if I could have laid my hands on anything else. (turns to Old Joe) Open that bundle, old Joe, and let me know the value of it. Speak out plain. I'm not afraid to be the first, nor afraid for them to see it. We know pretty well that we were helping ourselves, before we met here, I believe. It's no sin. Open the bundle, Joe.

OLD JOE:              Let’s start with the Undertaker. Not much here…a seal or two, a pencil-case..

UNDERTAKER:   …and a pair of sleeve-buttons and a brooch!

SCROOGE:           My things! She’s stolen my things! I’ll have her before a magistrate. You are FIRED! Do you hear me? Ehmm? FIRED!

OLD JOE:              Aye…but of no great value. Hmmmm…that's your account, and I wouldn't give another sixpence, if I was to be boiled for not doing it. Next! Mrs. Dilber my dear…

MRS. DILBER:     And now undo my bundle, Joe…

SCROOGE:           This is disgusting. I can't look at this. Haven't you anything better to show me?

OLD JOE:              I always give too much to ladies. It's a weakness of mine, and that's the way I ruin myself. What do you call this? Bed-curtains?

MRS. DILBER:     Ah! Bed-curtains!

OLD JOE:              You don't mean to say you took them down, rings and all, with him lying there?

MRS. DILBER:     Yes I do. Why not?

SCROOGE:           Huh! Rings and all!

OLD JOE:              You were born to make your fortune, and you'll certainly do it.

MRS. DILBER:     I certainly shan't hold my hand, when I can get anything in it by reaching it out, for the sake of such a man as he was, I promise you. Joe, don't drop that oil upon the blankets, now.

OLD JOE:              His blankets? (horror)

MRS. DILBER:     Whose else's do you think? He isn't likely to take cold without 'em, I dare say.

OLD JOE:              I hope he didn't die of anything catching? Eh?

MRS. DILBERT:   Don't you be afraid of that. I ain't so fond of his company that I'd loiter about him for such things, if he did. Ah! you may look through that shirt till your eyes ache; but you won't find a hole in it, nor a threadbare place. It's the best he had, and a fine one too. They'd have wasted it, if it hadn't been for me.

OLD JOE:              What do you call wasting of it?

MRS. DILBERT:   Putting it on him to be buried in, to be sure. Somebody was fool enough to do it, but I took it off again. If calico ain't good enough for such a purpose, it isn't good enough for anything. It's quite as becoming to the body. He can't look uglier than he did in that one.

OLD JOE:              1 pound 5 and 3. If you asked me for another penny, and made it an open question, I'd repent of being so liberal and knock off half-a-crown.

MRS. DILBERT:   Ha, ha! This is the end of it, you see! He frightened every one away from him when he was alive, to profit us when he was dead! Ha, ha, ha!

FOCUS ON SCROOGE AND SPIRIT AS OLD JOE, MRS. DILBER AND UNDERTAKER EXIT.

SCROOGE:           Spirit! I see, I see. The case of this unhappy man might be my own. My life tends that way, now. That is the lesson I am to draw from this poor man's fate, is it not?

FUTURE:              SEEEEEE!? SEEEEE?!!! YOUUUUU DONNNN’T SEEEEEEEEEEE but YOUUUUU WILLLLLL.

A BED APPEARS IN THE SQUARE WITH A FIGURE UNCLOTHED LYING ON IT FACING AWAY SO HE CAN’T BE SEEN.

SCROOGE:           Merciful Heaven, what is this?

FUTURE:              Oh cold, cold, rigid, dreadful Death, set up thine altar here, and dress it with such terrors as thou hast at thy command: for this is thy dominion! But of the loved, revered, and honoured head, thou canst not turn one hair to thy dread purposes, or make one feature odious. It is not that the hand is heavy and will fall down when released; it is not that the heart and pulse are still; but that the hand was open, generous, and true; the heart brave, warm, and tender; and the pulse a man's. Strike, Shadow, strike! And see his good deeds springing from the wound, to sow the world with life immortal. (Evil laugh)

SCROOGE:           Spirit! This is a fearful place. In leaving it, I shall not leave its lesson, trust me. Let us go!

FUTURE:              LOOOOOOKKKKK.

SCROOGE:           I understand you and I would look at this dead man's face, if I could. But I have not the power, Spirit. I have not the power. Show me tenderness spirit….some emotion or that form will haunt me forever!

FUTURE:              COMEEEEEE. WALKKKKK. SEEEEE!

SCROOGE:           Bob?

THE SPIRIT LEADS HIM BACK TO BOB’S. TIM IS MISSING.

INT. BOB CRATCHIT'S HOME – NIGHT

PETER, BELINDA AND MARTHA SIT WITH MRS. CRATCHIT.

PETER:                  (reads aloud)... Because he hath set his love upon me, therefore will I deliver him: I will set him on high, because he hath known my name. He shall call upon me, and I will answer him: I will be with him in trouble; I will deliver him, and honour him.... Mother? Shall I stop reading?

1. CRATCHIT: No, no. It's only the colour. It hurts my eyes. They're better now again. It makes them weak by candle-light; and I wouldn't show weak eyes to your father when he comes home, for the world. It must be near his time.

PETER:                  Past it rather. But I think he has walked a little slower than he used to these last few evenings, mother.

1. CRATCHIT: I have known him walk with -- I have known him walk with Tiny Tim upon his shoulder, very fast indeed.

BELINDA:             And so have I. Often.

1. CRATCHIT: But he was very light to carry, and his father loved him so, that it was no trouble: no trouble. And there is your father at the door!

BOB OPENS DOOR, WALKS IN AND CLOSES IT.

SCROOGE:           Oh, my God...no Spirit! No!

BOB:                      (pleasantly) I ran into Mr. Scrooge's nephew in the street today. He thought I looked a little -- just a little down, you know -- and he inquired as to what had happened to distress me. On which, for he is the pleasantest-spoken gentleman you ever heard, I told him. "I am heartily sorry for it, Mr Cratchit," he said, "and heartily sorry for your good wife." (pause) By the bye, how he ever knew that, I don't know.

1. CRATCHIT: Knew what?

BOB:                      Why, that you were a good wife.

BELINDA:             Everybody knows that.

MARTHA:            That they do.

BOB:                      I hope they do. "Heartily sorry," he said, "for your good wife. If I can be of service to you in any way, be sure to let me know" -- and he handed me his card. Now, it wasn't for the sake of anything he might be able to do for us, so much as for his kind way, that this was quite delightful. It really seemed as if he had known our Tiny Tim, and felt with us.

1. CRATCHIT: I'm sure he's a good soul.

BOB:                      You would be surer of it, if you saw and spoke to him. I shouldn't be at all surprised if he got Peter a better situation.

1. CRATCHIT: Hear that, Peter?

MARTHA:            And then, Peter will be keeping company with someone, and setting up for himself.

PETER:                  (grins) Get along with you!

BOB:                      (to Peter) It's just as likely as not, one of these days; though there's plenty of time for that. (to all) But however and whenever we part from one another, I am sure we shall none of us forget poor Tiny Tim -- shall we? -- or this first parting that there was among us?

PETER:                  Never, father!

MARTHA:            No. Of course not.

BOB:                      And I know... I know that when we recollect how patient and how mild he was; although he was a little, little child; we shall not quarrel easily among ourselves, and forget poor Tiny Tim in doing it.

PETER:                  That's right.

BOB:                      (at the point of tears) I am very happy. I am very happy. I…I think I may walk past now…just to see if he’s okay. All is quiet.

SCROOGE:           Bob…oh Bob….wait Bob!

SCROOGE FOLLOWS BOB INTO CHURCH YARD AND TO TIM’S GRAVE.

BOB:                      My little, little child. My little child…rest now, sleep now and we’ll remember you. Every day I’ll never forget you. My dear child….oh my child…

SCROOGE:           I’m sorry Bob. Bob do you hear me? Please…Bob…hear me. (to the Phantom) Tell me what man that was whom we saw lying dead.

FUTURE:              …..Ohhhhhhh lyinnnnnnnnnn deadddddd….

THE PHANTOM LEADS SCROOGE TO A TORCH LIT TOMB AND OPENS THE DOOR WAITING FOR HIM TO ENTER.

SCROOGE:           Before I draw nearer to that stone to which you point, answer me one question. Are these the shadows of the things that Will be, or are they shadows of things that May be, only?

FUTURE:              Lyyyyyyyyying DEAD. LOOK!

SCROOGE:           Men's courses will foreshadow certain ends, to which, if persevered in, they must lead. But if the courses be departed from, the ends will change. Say it is thus with what you show me!

FUTURE:              DEAD AS A DOORNAIL….

SCROOGE:           Me? No…no spirit! Am I that man who lay upon the bed? No, Spirit! Oh no, no!

SFX: THE WALL OF HIS TOMB EXPLODES OPEN TO REVEAL A FIERY HELL BEYOND.

SCROOGE:           Spirit! Hear me! I am not the man I was. I will not be the man I must have been but for this intervention. Why show me this, if I am past all hope? Good Spirit. Your nature intercedes for me, and pities me. Assure me that I yet may change these shadows you have shown me, by an altered life!

FUTURE:               (Singing darkly) God rest ye merry gentleman….

SCROOGE:           I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year.

FUTURE:              Let nothing you dismay Remember, Christ, our Saviour, Was born on Christmas day…

SCROOGE:           I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach. Oh, tell me I may sponge away the writing on this stone!

SFX: GUNSHOTS BREAK OUT. EXPLOSIONS. COMPLETE CHAOS AND BLOODSHED EVERYWHERE AS ALL THE ACTORS BEGIN FIGHTING OFF THE RAIDERS.

ALASTAIR:           What? What is this?

TARQUIN:           They’ve got guns sir!

SCRIBE RYAN:    I knew it! FOR THE BROTHERHOOD! BLOODY RAIDERS!

DAME ALICE:      AH! She’s pulling my hair! What are you doing Cordelia?! You’re one of us!

CORDELIA:          He made me a better offer!

DAME ALICE:      I’ll kill you, you gap toothed cow!

CORDELIA:          It’s go time! I’m going to beat you to death with this wreath! AHHHHH!

WILLIAM:            I just took this raider’s gatling plasma! Who’s next? I’m getting real good at festive blood patterns! BRING IT TRASH!

BROOKS:              (laughing) This really has been a laugh (taunting) Lorddddd Olivier.

ALASTAIR:           What is the meaning of this!

LUGNUT:             Just a little person versus person yuletide murder GOVNAH! (laughs)

BROOKS:              Did you really think you could walk into OUR territory, not a weapon among you and just what, put on a silly little play, throw your weight around and NOT think every Raider would show up at your doorstep? You were the easiest pickings we’ve seen around here in ages. We was gonna’ surround this place opening night, but then you put up them flyers everywhere…invited us right in! Right inside! It was too easy.

ALASTAIR:           This is outrageous! Do you know who I am? I am LORD ALASTAIR OLIVIER!

BROOKS:              And I, am going to put you in the ground. Look around you…all of those people dying? They were yours. Your people, your responsibility. You took them on a cross country trip underprepared, unskilled and laughably thought you could con marks out of caps and resources. You got this far, but we’ve seen our share of cons before…I should know, I’ve been one. The truth of it is there’s no Christmas Day, there is never a happy ending. In the end you’re just a holotape or a dusty note. Around here we walk past the skeletons, pop them up in corners with funny hats or in inappropriate poses because no one cares anymore. Life is cheap…

ALASTAIR:           No! No! I don’t believe that!

BROOKS:              You’re just like us, difference is we admit it. Where we prey on the body and rob them of caps, junk and life, you rob them of spirit. That Tarquin dude over there? I’ve treated dogs better than him.

TARQUIN:           SIR! I appear to be dying sir! WHAT DO I DO?

ALASTAIR:           No! Stop this!

BROOKS:              You talk down to them, stand on them because the truth of it is you are scared that are you are actually nothing. Everything about you is fake. So I’m going to give you a choice because if there is one thing I can’t stomach it’s hypocrisy…you can join our merry band here and at least be what your nature really is. Help us finish off this dead weight or you can take a bow, I can pump you full of lead, and we’ll and bring this little play to a tidy conclusion. What’s it to be?

TARQUIN:           …LEAVE HIM ALONE!

ALASTAIR:           Tarquin!

TARQUIN CHARGES AT BROOKS SWINGING. BROOKS FIRES AND MISSES. TARQUIN KILLS BROOKS.

ALASTAIR:           You…you saved me why?

TARQUIN:           You’re my friend.

ALASTAIR:           I am? Even…even after how I’ve treated you?

TARQUIN:           I think…I think friendships aren’t always about that, sometimes it’s the bonds we make in shared miles, stories and experiences. We’ve seen a lot, we’ve done a lot and through it all we’ve all been together. Time and heart is the tie that binds sir, sometimes beyond blood. Besides…it’s Christmas and these raiders were right gits as Bob would say.

WILLIAM:            Did you see what I did to that Lugnut guy’s head? Must’ve been at least 20 feet. I could get used to heavy weapons.

ALASTAIR:           All this time…I read the words but I didn’t SEE them. What this is about, what this is really about it a choice. We have the power to do good or evil in deed or thought and our time on this planet is so short that we forget to seize every moment to live in it by lifting up others, to be merciful, charitable, kind. I see that now…it’s sacrifice, putting others before yourself walking with your fellow men and women….not on them. Come on! Let’s wrap this up! We have an opening to perform! And for the bloody bits of raider on the floor double duty casting on the spot when we open! We can do it!

TARQUIN:           Together sir?

ALASTAIR:           Call me Alastair. Yes TOGETHER Tarquin my lad! Places everyone who is left standing! Let’s do this! Role call! Who is left standing?

WILLIAM:            Alive and festively armed! Marley’s packing a pew pew!

TARQUIN:           Same…well except for the pew pew.

DAME ALICE:      I am standing and I have smote my upstaging enemy!

MARYANNE:      Well shucks I’m good for a final act.

BRIAN:                  MaryAnne and I performed a remarkable feat avoiding stray bullets while also trapping dangerous raiders with 3 lightbulbs, a pencil…

ALASTAIR:           Yes that’s great…

BERNARD:           Ehm! Alive! Bit of a bum knee if I’m honest…

ALASTAIR:           Right! Let’s take it from the final act.

SFX: CURTAIN CLOSES. SIGN DESCENDS.

TITLE: SCENE CHANGE.

MEDIA: SCENE 7 TRANSITION.WAV

SFX: CURTAIN OPENS. SIGN ASCENDS.

MEDIA: PAGES TURN TO SHOW:  STAVE V THE END OF IT

DISSOLVE TO:

SCENE 7: INT. SCROOGE'S BEDROOM – DAY

SCROOGE IS SLEEPING AND WAKES UP.

SCROOGE:           My room! I’m alive! Oh spirits I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future! The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. Oh Jacob Marley! Heaven, and the Christmas Time be praised for this! I say it on my knees, old Jacob; on my  knees! And my bed curtains! They are not torn down. They are not torn down, rings and all. They are here: I am here: the shadows of the things that would have been, may be dispelled. They will be. I know they will!

SCROOGE RUNS AROUND JUMPING

SCROOGE:           I don't know what to do! I am as light as a feather, I am as happy as an angel, I am as merry as a school-boy. I am as giddy as a drunken man. A merry Christmas to everybody! A happy New Year to all the world! Hallo here! Whoop! Hallo! There's the saucepan that the gruel was in! There's the door, by which the Ghost of Jacob Marley entered! Out the window in the yard there where the Ghost of Christmas Present, sat! There's the window where I saw the wandering Spirits! It's all right, it's all true, it all happened. Ha ha ha!

SCROOGE:           I don't know what day of the month it is! I don't know how long I've been among the Spirits. I don't know anything. I'm quite a baby. Never mind. I don't care. I'd rather be a baby. Hallo! Whoop! Hallo here!

SFX: CHURCHBELLS START RINGING.

SCROOGE:           Clash, clang, hammer, ding, dong, bell! Bell, dong, ding, hammer, clang, clash! Oh, glorious, glorious!

A BOY WALKS BY THE GATE. SCROOGE RUNS DOWN TO MEET HIM.

SCROOGE:           You there!

TURKEY BOY:      Who me?

SCROOGE:           Yes indeed! What's to-day?

TURKEY BOY:      Eh?

SCROOGE:           What's to-day, my fine fellow?

TURKEY BOY:      To-day? Why, Christmas Day.

SCROOGE:           (to himself) It's Christmas Day! I haven't missed it. The Spirits have done it all in one night. They can do anything they like. Of course they can. Of course they can. Hallo, my fine fellow!

TURKEY BOY:      Are you alight?

SCROOGE:           Quite alright! Do you know the Poulterer's, in the next street but one, at the corner?

TURKEY BOY:      I should hope I do.

SCROOGE:           (to himself) An intelligent boy! A remarkable boy! (to the boy) Do you know whether they've sold the prize Turkey that was hanging up there? Not the little prize Turkey; the big one?

TURKEY BOY:      What, the one as big as me?

SCROOGE:           (to himself) What a delightful boy! It's a pleasure to talk to him. (to the boy) Yes, my buck!

TURKEY BOY:      It's hanging there now.

SCROOGE:           Is it? Go and buy it.

TURKEY BOY:      Walk-er!

SCROOGE:           No, no, I am in earnest. Go and buy it. Here’s and half-a-crown for your troubles. You tell him Ebenezer Scrooge said to charge it to his account. Here’s the address in Camden Town I want it sent. Be off with you now! Lickety split!

TURKEY BOY:      Half a crown! Yes sir!

SCROOGE:           Why, it's impossible to carry that to Camden Town. He must have a cab. Here’s the fare!

TURKEY BOY:      Yes sir! And a Merry Christmas to you!

FIGURE RUNS DOWN THE STREET.

SCROOGE:           He sha'n't know who sends it. It's twice the size of Tiny Tim. Joe Miller never made such a joke as sending it to Bob's will be!

EXT. SCROOGE'S BUILDING

SCROOGE:           I shall love it, as long as I live! I scarcely ever looked at it before. What an honest expression it has in its face! It's a wonderful knocker! Oh! I can’t go out like this! I must get dressed!

SCROOGE CHANGES OUTFITS INTO HIS FANCIEST CLOTHING.

THE GHOUL FOR CHARITY WALKS DOWN THE STREET.

SCROOGE:           I know that man…my dear sir. How do you do? I hope you succeeded yesterday. It was very kind of you. A merry Christmas to you, sir!

1^st GHOUL:          Mr Scrooge?

SCROOGE:           Yes. That is my name, and I fear it may not be pleasant to you. Allow me to ask your pardon. And will you have the goodness to accept… (whispers)

1^st GHOUL:          Lord bless me! My dear Mr Scrooge, are you serious?

SCROOGE:           If you please. Not a farthing less. A great many back-payments are included in it, I assure you. Will you do me that favour?

1^st GHOUL:          My dear sir. I don't know what to say to such munificence.

SCROOGE:           Don't say anything, please. Come and see me. Will you come and see me?

1^st GHOUL:          I will!

SCROOGE:           Thank 'ee. I am much obliged to you. I thank you fifty times. Bless you!

MEDIA: SNOW TRANSITION. DAY TURNS TO NIGHT.

SCROOGE MAKES HIS WAY THROUGH THE SQUARE TO FRED’S HOUSE.

EXT. HOUSE - NIGHT

FRED:                    He said that Christmas was a humbug, as I live! He believed it too!

SCROOGE BARGES IN.

SCROOGE:           Fred!

CLARA:                 OH MY!

SCROOGE:           Oh, I'm so sorry my dear. I forgot you were there.

CLARA:                 Forgot I was…?

FRED:                    Why bless my soul! Who's that?

SCROOGE:           It's I. Your uncle Scrooge. (mocking the impression from his vision) It's your Uncle Scro-o-o-o-oge!

FRED:                    Are you…quite alright?

SCROOGE:           Never better my boy! I have come as you asked. To beg your forgiveness for the kindness, love and meals I may have shared with you this many a year…and you my dear (to Clara) will you forgive a miserable old fool for being too blind to see and too deaf to hear?

CLARA:                 (pause) Of course Uncle! OF COURSE! You must stay for dinner! Come you must meet our guests!

NARRATOR #2:  And he did stay, and he did meet and the meal was indeed excellent. It was the day that he came for Christmas for the first time and such games were played. For Scrooge the memory of that day with his family with the joy of the spirits and the lessons they taught him filling his heart. Late that night when he returned to bed there was no darkness in any corner, nor spirits to fear. It was the most restful sleep he’d had in a lifetime and in his dreams he saw only a star filled expanse of light and hope…for tomorrow…he had Bob to deal with.

SFX: CURTAIN CLOSES. SIGN DESCENDS.

TITLE: SCENE CHANGE.

MEDIA: SCENE 8 TRANSITION.WAV

SFX: CURTAIN OPENS. SIGN ASCENDS.

MEDIA: PAGES TURN TO SHOW:  STAVE IV THE END OF IT

DISSOLVE TO:

SCENE 8: INT. SCROOGE AND MARLEY’S. DAY

SCROOGE SITS AT HIS DESK. CHUCKLING TO HIMSELF.

SCROOGE:           Oh dear me Bob quite late…yes quite late! Must’ve made himself QUITE merry yesterday (laughs) Tiny Tim must’ve been as STUFFED as the turkey (laughs) Oh! Here he comes! (Coughs and looks stern)

CRATCHIT DASHES IN. CLOSES THE DOOR AND SLOWLY SLINKS TO HIS DESK.

SCROOGE:           (Clears through) Cratchit! You're late! What do you mean by coming here at this time of day?

BOB:                      I am very sorry, sir. I am behind my time.

SCROOGE:           You are? Yes. I think you are. Step this way, if you please.

CRATCHIT GETS UP AND WALKS TO SCROOGE’S DESK.

BOB:                      It's only once a year, sir. It shall not be repeated. I was making rather merry yesterday, sir.

SCROOGE:           Now, I'll tell you what, my friend. I am not going to stand this sort of thing any longer. And therefore ...

SCROOGE RISES AND BOB BACKPEDDLES.

SCROOGE:           ... and therefore I am about to raise your salary!

BOB:                      (Startled) I…I’m sorry sir?

SCROOGE:           A merry Christmas, Bob! A merrier Christmas, Bob, my good fellow, than I have given you for many a year! (quietly) I'm going to raise your salary. And if you'll let me, I'd like to try to help your family.

BOB:                      I…I don’t…

SCROOGE:           (laughs) Well, let's discuss it this afternoon, over a Christmas bowl of smoking bishop, Bob! Make up the fires, and buy another coal-scuttle before you dot another i, Bob Cratchit.

BOB:                      Yes sir, of course sir…sir…what has happened?

SCROOGE:           Christmas has happened Bob and the specter of a future that scarcely bears thinking about. It will change Bob, all of it…Tim will be well. Do you believe me?

BOB:                      Yes….yes sir I do. I do…and Merry Christmas!

SCROOGE:           Chirrup Bob (laughs) we have MUCH work to do!

MEDIA: END SCENE PACKAGE

DISSOLVE TO EXTERIOR OF PLAYHOUSE

MEDIA: SNOW BEGINS FALLING.

NARRATOR:        And that night upon Charleston for the first time in decades long memory snow began to fall. Those who were there that night for the opening of a most unusual version of A Christmas Carol proclaimed it to be a miracle…in actuality it was the Brotherhood fiddling over at Fort Atlas with the weather controlling doomsday device that resulted in a colossal explosion.…and yet miracles aren’t always born out of the ether with light and glitter. By 1843 the celebration of Christmas in Britain had begun to wane and gone were the great glittering feasts of former years. The man who put the story of A Christmas Carol to paper equally had peaked in popularity and his most recent work was considered a failure. Dickens was in dire financial straights as Christmas approached that year and he found himself lost in fear and  self-doubt when a visit to Manchester opened his eyes. All around him he was surrounded by those whose situation was far more dire than his own, children with empty stomachs, sickness everywhere and mothers clutching shawls in terror for fear for their family on those grimy streets. Passing by all of them were his fellow men of business, unseeing of the plight of those around them. Dickens rushed home and feverishly told that very story. In doing so, he little realized that it would become his greatest work, a work told in every form of media almost two centuries later on every corner of the planet and in every language on Earth. Its popularity not only cemented the celebration of Christmas in Victorian Britain, it helped to shape it. It endures as reminder that faith isn’t always found in a book or in The Word, it is found in each other and reminds us that hope can be given as much as it is felt. It also reminds us that the power of the one or the many to deliver that unto those who need it most begins as easily as making the choice to do so. From all of us here to all of you at home in whatever form you celebrate this time of year, may your holidays be filled with light and love and in the words of Dickens himself, “Have a heart that never hardens, a temper that never tires, and a touch that never hurts.” Good night.