Another Spidey-Disney mash-up, and this time, a certain industrialist is the hero.
Courtesy of your friendly neighborhood Spider-Fan.
Disclaimer: Mickey's Christmas Carol belongs to Walt Disney, and Spectacular Spider-Man belongs to Sony and Disney, and the characters from that and any other Marvel character I use belongs to Marvel Comics and Stan Lee.
Peter's Christmas Carol
Chapter 1: Toomes' Ghost
In New York City, on Christmas Eve, the stingiest man in town, Norman Osborn, walked down the street. There was no Christmas cheer in his heart though. Osborn hated the whole idea of Christmas. As he walked, he passed a homeless man as he outstretched his hand.
"Give a penny for the poor sir." The man said. "Penny for the poor."
"Bah." Osborn said simply before continuing to his counting house, Osborn & Toomes. Osborn never bothered to paint out Toomes' name.
"My partner Adrian Toomes." Osborn said calmly. "Dead seven years today. He was a good businessman. He robbed from the widows and swindled the poor."
Osborn looked at the sign and smirked.
"In his will he left me enough money for his tombstone, and I had him buried at sea." Osborn chuckled to himself.
()()()()()
Inside the store, Osborn's bookman, Peter Parker, was about to put a thing of coal in the fire while Osborn was out when he came in.
"Oh… Uh…" Peter said nervously. "Good morning Mr. Osborn."
"Parker, what are you doing with that piece of coal?!" Osborn asked angrily.
"I was just trying to thaw out the ink, sir." Peter said timidly as he pointed to the ice covered ink quill.
"You used a piece last week!" Osborn snapped as he grabbed the coal and tossed it in a bucket. "Now get on with your work, Parker!"
"Speaking of work Mr. Osborn tomorrow is Christmas, and I was wondering if I could have… Half the day off?"
"Christmas." Osborn spat angrily as he thought. "Mm… Oh, I suppose so, but I'll dock you half a day's pay. Now let's see… I pay you two dollars a day."
"Uh, two dollars and a quarter, sir." Peter corrected.
"Oh right." Osborn said. "I gave you that raise three years ago."
"Yes sir." Peter said. "When I started doing your laundry."
"Alright Parker, get busy while I go over my books, oh and I've got another bundle of shirts for you." Osborn said as he tossed a moderately large laundry bag at Peter.
"Yes sir." Peter said quickly.
Osborn then sat down and went over his notes as a large amount of money sat in front of him.
"Now let's see…" Osborn mused. "One hundred and twelve dollars from Octavious, plus his eighty-percent interest, compounded daily…"
Osborn laughed as he played a little with a few coins.
"Money, money, money."
Then the door opened, and Osborn's nephew and only living relative, Harry came in.
"Merry Christmas!" Harry called out.
"And a merry Christmas to you, Harry." Peter said as he took a break from his books to talk to Harry.
"Bah humbug." Osborn muttered.
"Merry Christmas, Uncle Norman!" Harry called out with a smile.
"What's so merry about it?" Norman asked moodily. "I'll tell you what Christmas is, it's just another work day, and any jackanapes who thinks else should be boiled in his own pudding!"
"Ew." Harry remarked.
"But sir Christmas is a time for giving." Peter said quickly. "A time to be with one's family."
"I say 'Bah humbug.'" Osborn said stubbornly.
"I don't care!" Harry called out. "I say 'Merry Christmas!'"
"Well said Harry!" Peter called out as he applauded.
"Parker, what are you doing?!" Osborn asked angrily.
"Uh…" Peter said nervously as he stopped clapping. "Just trying to keep my hands warm, sir."
"And what are you doing here, Nephew?" Osborn asked testily.
"I've come to give you a reef and invite you to Christmas dinner." Harry said as he handed Osborn the reef.
"Well…" Norman said with a smile. "I suppose you're going to have plump goose with chestnut dressing?"
"Yup." Harry confirmed.
"And will you have plum pudding and lemon sauce?" Osborn continued.
"Oh yeah!" Harry said with a widening smile.
"And spiced sugar cakes with candied fruit?" Osborn finished.
"Yes!" Harry said excitedly. "Yes! Will you come?"
"Are you insane?" Osborn snapped. "You know I can't eat that stuff, now get out!"
"Alright." Harry said as he put the reef on the door. "Merry Christmas!"
"And a bah humbug to you!" Osborn shouted back, but Harry had already left.
"That Harry." Peter said with a chuckle. "Always so full of kindness."
"Yeah." Osborn said. "He always was a little peculiar." The door opened again. "And stubborn!"
Instead of Harry, a very well built man was there with a man with black hair with large sideburns walked in.
"Oh, customers." Osborn said with an excited smile. "I'll handle this, Parker."
Osborn then walked up to the two.
"Yes, what can I do for you two gentlemen?" Osborn asked.
"Sir, I'm Hank McCoy, and this is my associate, Logan." Mr. McCoy said. "We are soliciting funds for the impudent and destitute."
"For the what?" Osborn asked.
"We're collecting money for the poor." Logan translated.
"Oh…" Osborn said. "Well, you do realize that if you give money to the poor, they won't be poor anymore."
"Well that's true." Logan said.
"And if they're not poor anymore, then you won't have to raise money for them anymore." Osborn went on, putting on a concerned front.
"Well, I suppose." Mr. McCoy admitted.
"And if you don't have to raise money for them anymore, then you would be out of a job." Osborn said as he opened the door, and the two walked out. "Oh please gentlemen, don't ask me to put you out of a job, not on Christmas Eve."
"Oh, we'd never do that, Mr. Osborn." Mr. McCoy said.
"Well then," Osborn finished, going back to his normal manner at once. "I suggest you give this to the poor and be gone!"
He tossed the wreath Harry had given him at Logan who caught it reflexively and slammed the door in their faces.
"What's this world coming to, Parker?" Osborn asked as Peter turned to listen. "You work all your life to get money, and people want you to give it away."
()()()()()
As the day came to its end, Peter used a nearby lamp to keep himself warm, which wasn't too easy. He then glanced over at the clock and smiled when he saw that it was only fifteen seconds until quitting time. Finishing up his last sentence, he closed the book and got ready to head home.
"Two minutes fast." Osborn remarked as Peter gulped and was about to get back to work when Osborn stopped him. "Eh, never mind those two minutes. You can go now."
"Thank you, sir!" Peter said as he hopped down. "You're so kind-"
"Never mind the mushy stuff!" Osborn shouted. "Just go, but be here all the earlier the next afternoon!"
"I will!" Peter said excitedly. "I will sir, and a bah hum- I mean, a merry Christmas to you sir!"
Peter then picked up the bag of Osborn's shirts and walked off as all Osborn said in reply was, "Bah."
()()()()()
At nine at night, Osborn closed up the counting house and walked off to his house, which had once belonged to Toomes. As Osborn unlocked the door, he looked at the knocker just as it turned into Adrian Toomes' face. With the long pupils like a birds, and the beak-like nose.
"Osborn…" Toomes said in an eerie voice.
"Adrian Toomes?" Osborn asked in shock. "No, that can't be!"
Thinking he was just wearied from a good day's work, he touched the knocker's nose, and exclaimed in a way that frightened Osborn so badly, he ran into the house. After catching his breath, he put what had happened off as stress with all the fools he had to deal with that day. He then began to walk upstairs when he heard footsteps coming up behind him. He turned, but no one was there. He went on, and again he heard the footsteps. He turned around again, but still no one was there. He looked down from the stairway, but nothing was there either. He walked on when he heard the footsteps for a third time and turned to see a shadow of a bald man with the beak-like nose of Toomes. Osborn shouted in shock and terror and rushed to his living room, bolting the door and hiding in his seat.
"Norman Osborn…" Toomes' voice called out from the other side of the door.
"GO AWAY!" Osborn shouted as a blue-white, transparent version of Adrian Toomes walked in. Aside from his usually tuxedo, Toomes also wore a long chain with cash boxes and safes attached to it.
"Norman Osbor-AHH!" Toomes explained as he tripped on a lose rug and ended up landing right next to his chair.
"A bit more hazardous here than I remember." Toomes said calmly as he got up and looked at Osborn, apparently noticing a look of terror.
"Osborn, don't you recognize me?" Toomes asked. "In life I was your partner, Adrian Toomes."
Osborn hadn't wanted to believe it, but looking at Toomes' face, he was forced to, and that actually helped to calm him down a little.
"Toomes, it is you." Osborn said as his eyes widened.
"Norman," Toomes said as he stood straight up. "Remember when I was alive, I robbed the widows and swindled the poor?"
"Yes, and all on the same day." Osborn said with a smile at the memories. "Oh, you had class Adrian."
"Yup." Toomes said with a smug look before shaking his head. "Wait, no! No! I was wrong, and so as punishment, I'm forced to carry these chains for eternity! … Maybe even longer. With no hope. I'm doomed! Doomed!"
Toomes then turned his bird-like face to Osborn.
"And the same thing will happen to you, Norman Osborn."
"No!" Osborn gasped in fear as he recoiled from the chains that were close by his chair. "No it can't! It mustn't! Help me, Adrian!"
"Tonight, you will be visited by three spirits." Toomes informed Osborn. "Listen to them, and do what they say, or your chains will be heavier than mine."
Osborn agreed nervously as he turned nervously around.
"Farewell Norman…" Toomes called out as he walked back, making sure to be mindful of the rug. "Farewell . . ."
"Toomes!" Osborn called out as he remembered something about the stairway. "Watch out for that first-"
There were several loud screams and grunts as Adrian Toomes' ghost fell down the stairs.
"Step." Osborn finished before going off to bed.
Spooky, huh?