Another Legion-Disney mash-up, and this time, a certain industrialist is the hero.
Disclaimer: Mickey's Christmas Carol belongs to Walt Disney, and Legion of Superheroes belongs to Warner Brothers, and the characters from that and any other DC character I use belongs to DC Comics.
Garth's Christmas Carol
Chapter 1: Slade's Ghost
In Gotham City, on Christmas Eve, the stingiest man in town, Bruce Wayne, walked down the street. There was no Christmas cheer in his heart though. Bruce 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." Bruce said simply before continuing to his counting house, Wayne & Wilson. Bruce never bothered to paint out Slade's name.
"My partner Slade Wilson." Bruce said calmly. "Dead seven years today. He was a good businessman. He robbed from the widows and swindled the poor."
Bruce looked at the sign and smirked.
"In his will he left me enough money for his tombstone, and I had him buried at sea." Bruce chuckled to himself.
()()()()()
Inside the store, Bruce's bookman, Garth Ranzz, was about to put a thing of coal in the fire while Bruce was out when he came in.
"Oh… Uh…" Garth said nervously. "Good morning Mr. Wayne."
"Ranzz, what are you doing with that piece of coal?!" Bruce asked angrily.
"I was just trying to thaw out the ink, sir." Garth said timidly as he pointed to the ice covered ink quill.
"You used a piece last week!" Bruce snapped as he grabbed the coal and tossed it in a bucket. "Now get on with your work, Ranzz!"
"Speaking of work Mr. Wayne tomorrow is Christmas, and I was wondering if I could have… Half the day off?"
"Christmas." Bruce 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." Garth corrected.
"Oh right." Bruce said. "I gave you that raise three years ago."
"Yes sir." Garth said. "When I started doing your laundry."
"Alright Ranzz, get busy while I go over my books, oh and I've got another bundle of shirts for you." Bruce said as he tossed a moderately large laundry bag at Clark.
"Yes sir." Garth said quickly.
Bruce then sat down and went over his notes as a large amount of money sat in front of him.
"Now let's see…" Bruce mused. "One hundred and twelve dollars from Jordan, plus his eighty-percent interest, compounded daily…"
Bruce laughed as he played a little with a few coins.
"Money, money, money."
Then the door opened, and Bruce's nephew and only living relative, Dick came in.
"Merry Christmas!" Dick called out.
"And a merry Christmas to you, Dick." Garth said as he took a break from his books to talk to Dick.
"Bah humbug." Bruce muttered.
"Merry Christmas, Uncle Bruce!" Dick called out with a smile.
"What's so merry about it?" Bruce 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." Dick remarked.
"But sir Christmas is a time for giving." Garth said quickly. "A time to be with one's family."
"I say 'Bah humbug.'" Bruce said stubbornly.
"I don't care!" Dick called out. "I say 'Merry Christmas!'"
"Well said Dick!" Garth called out as he applauded.
"Ranzz, what are you doing?!" Bruce asked angrily.
"Uh…" Garth said nervously as he stopped clapping. "Just trying to keep my hands warm, sir."
"And what are you doing here, Nephew?" Bruce asked testily.
"I've come to give you a reef and invite you to Christmas dinner." Dick said as he handed Bruce the reef.
"Well…" Bruce said with a smile. "I suppose you're going to have plump goose with chestnut dressing?"
"Yup." Dick confirmed.
"And will you have plum pudding and lemon sauce?" Bruce continued.
"Oh yeah!" Dick said with a widening smile.
"And spiced sugar cakes with candied fruit?" Bruce finished.
"Yes!" Dick said excitedly. "Yes! Will you come?"
"Are you insane?" Bruce snapped. "You know I can't eat that stuff, now get out!"
"Alright." Dick said as he put the reef on the door. "Merry Christmas!"
"And a bah humbug to you!" Bruce shouted back, but Dick had already left.
"That Dick." Garth said with a chuckle. "Always so full of kindness."
"Yeah." Bruce said. "He always was a little peculiar." The door opened again. "And stubborn!"
Instead of Dick, a Coluan man was there with a rotund man with black hair walked in.
"Oh, customers." Bruce said with an excited smile. "I'll handle this, Ranzz."
Bruce then walked up to the two.
"Yes, what can I do for you two gentlemen?" Bruce asked.
"Sir, I'm Brainiac 5, and this is my associate, Chuck Taine." Brainiac 5 said. "We are soliciting funds for the impudent and destitute."
"For the what?" Bruce asked.
"We're collecting money for the poor." Chuck translated.
"Oh…" Bruce said. "Well, you do realize that if you give money to the poor, they won't be poor anymore."
"Well that's true." Chuck said.
"And if they're not poor anymore, then you won't have to raise money for them anymore." Bruce went on, putting on a concerned front.
"Well, I suppose." Brainiac 5 admitted.
"And if you don't have to raise money for them anymore, then you would be out of a job." Bruce 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. Wayne." Brainiac 5 said.
"Well then," Bruce finished, going back to his normal manner at once. "I suggest you give this to the poor and be gone!"
He tossed the wreath Dick had given him at Chuck who caught it reflexively and slammed the door in their faces.
"What's this world coming to, Ranzz?" Bruce asked as Garth 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, Garth 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." Bruce remarked as Garth gulped and was about to get back to work when Bruce stopped him. "Eh, never mind those two minutes. You can go now."
"Thank you, sir!" Garth said as he hopped down. "You're so kind-"
"Never mind the mushy stuff!" Bruce shouted. "Just go, but be here all the earlier the next afternoon!"
"I will!" Garth said excitedly. "I will sir, and a bah hum- I mean, a merry Christmas to you sir!"
Garth then picked up the bag of Bruce's shirts and walked off as all Bruce said in reply was, "Bah."
()()()()()
At nine at night, Bruce closed up the counting house and walked off to his house, which had once belonged to Slade. As Bruce unlocked the door, he looked at the knocker just as it turned into Slade Wilson's face. With the eye patch over his right eye, and the goatee.
"Wayne…" Slade said in an eerie voice.
"Slade Wilson?" Bruce 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 Bruce 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 man with the goatee of Slade. Bruce shouted in shock and terror and rushed to his living room, bolting the door and hiding in his seat.
"Bruce Wayne…" Slade's voice called out from the other side of the door.
"GO AWAY!" Bruce shouted as a blue-white, transparent version of Slade Wilson walked in. Aside from his usually tuxedo, Slade also wore a long chain with cash boxes and safes attached to it.
"Bruce W-AHH!" Slade 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." Slade said calmly as he got up and looked at Bruce, apparently noticing a look of terror.
"Wayne, don't you recognize me?" Slade asked. "In life I was your partner, Slade Wilson."
Bruce hadn't wanted to believe it, but looking at Slade's face, he was forced to, and that actually helped to calm him down a little.
"Wilson, it is you." Bruce said as his eyes widened.
"Bruce," Slade 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." Bruce said with a smile at the memories. "Oh, you had class Slade."
"Yup." Slade 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!"
Slade then turned his face to Bruce.
"And the same thing will happen to you, Bruce Wayne."
"No!" Bruce gasped in fear as he recoiled from the chains that were close by his chair. "No it can't! It mustn't! Help me, Slade!"
"Tonight, you will be visited by three spirits." Slade informed Bruce. "Listen to them, and do what they say, or your chains will be heavier than mine."
Bruce agreed nervously as he turned nervously around.
"Farewell Bruce…" Slade called out as he walked back, making sure to be mindful of the rug. "Farewell . . ."
"Wilson!" Bruce called out as he remembered something about the stairway. "Watch out for that first-"
There were several loud screams and grunts as Slade Wilson's ghost fell down the stairs.
"Step." Bruce finished before going off to bed.
Spooky, huh?