A Smartian Christmas Carol
by Alexis Rockford 5.39
A/N: I have stolen lines from
almost every version of ACC ever
made. I hope you won't have
trouble telling the difference
between the story and what's
really going on in Chief's office.
It was the night before Christmas at CONTROL. Agent 86, Maxwell Smart was waiting
patiently in Chief's office for his Christmas bonus with his wife, 99.
"Max, we can't stick around here much longer," stated 99 as she balanced a baby on each hip.
"The twins are hungry!"
"Give 'em an apple," suggested Maxwell, reaching into the holiday fruit basket on Chief's desk.
"Max, you know they just got their teeth! Apples are too hard for them!"
"Oh, well I'm hungry anyway." He bit into the apple and crunched loudly.
99 was about to protest, when Chief entered the room, looking tired and cross. "Merry
Christmas, Chief!" called the female agent to her boss.
"I don't feel very merry," groaned Chief. "I -uh- just got word from the President that our funds
have been cut again. That means no Christmas bonus for me this year. Here are yours." He
handed two brightly decorated envelopes to his top female agent.
"Oh, that's too bad, Chief," 99 said consolingly. She stood there in silence before her boss for a
few seconds while Max checked their envelopes to see the amount on the check therein. She
wondered why this news had disheartened him so. It wasn't like him to be so mercenary. But no
matter what the trouble was, Chief was definitely not in the Christmas Spirit. She must think of
something to help him feel better. Suddenly, a light dawned on her. "I know what will cheer you
up!" she piped up. "Max wrote a Christmas story last night. Why don't you read it to him?" She
glanced slyly at her husband.
"99, this is not the time or the place," tittered Smart, obviously embarrassed. "Besides," he added
in a whisper, "do you want me to get fired right before the Holidays?"
"Nonsense, darling, I think that Chief would get a kick out of it."
"Yeah, a kick in the seat of MY pants, resulting in me getting KICKED out of the agency."
"Please?" she pleaded, flashing her blue eyes coaxingly.
"Well, alright, if Chief wants to hear it and promises not to fire me."
"I'll listen," said Thaddeus, "but I won't guarantee the other part."
Max laughed nervously and produced a document from his large inner coat-pocket. 99 sat down
in a nearby chair with the twins to listen. She reached down into the bag her husband was carrying
and drew out two bottles to feed them. It wasn't that much sustenance, but it would tide them
over until they were home. Maxwell cleared his throat and began:
"Hymie was broken to begin with, as broken as a robot could be. He had been dismantled
exactly one year ago. He had been given a good Christian burial and was already decaying in his
grave. You must remember this, or nothing that happens later will seem wondrous. . ."
***************
"Wait a minute, Max," interrupted the Chief. "Haven't I heard this story somewhere
before?"
"Not MY version!" insisted Agent 86 before continuing:
"He had been destroyed by a man named Thaddeus who hated everybody and everything ever
since his wife died."
****************
"Max, I never destroyed Hymie, my wife is still living, and I do NOT hate everybody and
everything!" Thaddeus protested.
"It's just a story, Chief," interjected 99 quietly.
"Oh, very well, continue," prompted Chief.
"He worked in a dismal building with more doors and secret panels than employees. The
reason that the structure was so secure could be due to the fact that it was a national intelligence
center. Or maybe the architect was just an eccentric. Whatever the case, it took about ten minutes
from the front entrance to anywhere of importance, which caused Thaddeus's minions to be late
for work on many occasions and gave their boss many migraines.
"It was the Eve of Christmas in 1970 the day the frightful thing happened. Thaddeus, or Chief, as
he was known to the slaves who worked for him, had been verbally abusive to his head security
man that day and threatened to sue him for every penny he was worth if he didn't stop bungling
all of his assignments.
"'But sir,'" began the man, whose name was Maxwell Smart. 'It's Christmas and I want to spend
time with my family.'
"'It's a poor excuse for picking a man's pocket every December the twenty-fifth,'
grumbled Thaddeus. 'But as I'm the only one who knows it, you may have the day off.'"
**************
"Now I know where I've heard this before!" exclaimed Chief. All at once, he seemed to realize
where this story would lead. "Max, don't tell me that you made me Mr. Scrooge!"
"He made you Mr. Scrooge," affirmed 99.
"He asked you not to tell him that!" scolded Agent Smart.
Thaddeus rolled his eyes. "How did you expect this story to cheer me up, 99?" He glared at Mrs.
Smart quite coldly.
"Well, I thought you would find it humorous. After all, the thought of a dear, sweet man like you
being anything like Ebenezer Scrooge is quite ridiculous, wouldn't you say?" 99 laughed gaily as
though her joke was the funniest she had ever heard.
"Well, actually, I didn't mean it as a-" started her husband. 99 kicked him as sharply as she could
in the shins without disturbing the twins. Max doubled over in pain. "Did you have to do that,
99?" he moaned, clutching his leg.
"If you're going to read this story, please hurry up. I DO have places to be on Christmas Eve."
"Alright, Chief, if you insist:
"Max gave a shout and was about to run from the office when Thaddeus shouted, 'But be here all
the earlier the next morning!'
"Yes, Mr. Scroo- I mean Chief!" called the grateful man as he dashed into the cruel December
night.
"Thaddeus rubbed his hands together for warmth and was about to quit the building himself when
he heard the familiar cry of 'Uncle!'
"Thaddeus scowled as Phoebe, his niece, entered the chamber. 'A Merry Christmas, Uncle!'
"'Humbug!' barked the Chief.
"'Christmas a humbug? Oh, Uncle you can't mean that. Christmas is a loving and charitable time
and though it's never put a scrap of gold in my pocket, I believe it has done me good and will do
me good, and I say God Bless it!'
"'What right have you to be so happy,' grumbled Chief, 'you're poor enough.'
"'What right have you to be dismal,' returned Phoebe, 'you're rich enough.'
"'There is no such thing as rich enough only poor enough,' scoffed Thaddeus. 'What matter of
business brings you here at this time of year anyway?'
"'I came here only to invite you, Max, and 99 to Christmas dinner with me tomorrow,' said
Phoebe politely. 'I would ask Hymie, but I know you disassembled him last Christmas. Besides, I
love Max now.' She batted her eyelashes and gazed in the general direction of her uncle with
childish romantic longing."
**********
"Max!" yelled the Chief of CONTROL. "You know very well that Phoebe got over you years
ago!"
"Yeah!" agreed 99 sulkily. "I don't recall THAT part of the story." She bounced the twins on her
knee for emphasis.
"Heh, heh, well . . . would you believe? . ."
"No!" shouted his boss and wife simultaneously. This, of course, woke the twins and they began
to wail.
"Excuse me," 99 said, glaring at Agent Smart as she left the room with their babies.
Max ignored the hubbub in the room and once again commenced his narrative:
"'Phoebe, Max and 99 got married last year,'replied the Chief coldly. 'They now have
twins.'
"'Oh, Uncle!' cried Phoebe and burst into tears.
"'Weeping, weeping: a waste of water'" quoth Thaddeus.
"Phoebe merely shook her tears away and left her uncle with the following words, 'God save you,
and a Merry Christmas anyway.' She slammed the door shut behind her.
"'Bah! Humbug!'"
TBC . . .
by Alexis Rockford 5.39
A/N: I have stolen lines from
almost every version of ACC ever
made. I hope you won't have
trouble telling the difference
between the story and what's
really going on in Chief's office.
It was the night before Christmas at CONTROL. Agent 86, Maxwell Smart was waiting
patiently in Chief's office for his Christmas bonus with his wife, 99.
"Max, we can't stick around here much longer," stated 99 as she balanced a baby on each hip.
"The twins are hungry!"
"Give 'em an apple," suggested Maxwell, reaching into the holiday fruit basket on Chief's desk.
"Max, you know they just got their teeth! Apples are too hard for them!"
"Oh, well I'm hungry anyway." He bit into the apple and crunched loudly.
99 was about to protest, when Chief entered the room, looking tired and cross. "Merry
Christmas, Chief!" called the female agent to her boss.
"I don't feel very merry," groaned Chief. "I -uh- just got word from the President that our funds
have been cut again. That means no Christmas bonus for me this year. Here are yours." He
handed two brightly decorated envelopes to his top female agent.
"Oh, that's too bad, Chief," 99 said consolingly. She stood there in silence before her boss for a
few seconds while Max checked their envelopes to see the amount on the check therein. She
wondered why this news had disheartened him so. It wasn't like him to be so mercenary. But no
matter what the trouble was, Chief was definitely not in the Christmas Spirit. She must think of
something to help him feel better. Suddenly, a light dawned on her. "I know what will cheer you
up!" she piped up. "Max wrote a Christmas story last night. Why don't you read it to him?" She
glanced slyly at her husband.
"99, this is not the time or the place," tittered Smart, obviously embarrassed. "Besides," he added
in a whisper, "do you want me to get fired right before the Holidays?"
"Nonsense, darling, I think that Chief would get a kick out of it."
"Yeah, a kick in the seat of MY pants, resulting in me getting KICKED out of the agency."
"Please?" she pleaded, flashing her blue eyes coaxingly.
"Well, alright, if Chief wants to hear it and promises not to fire me."
"I'll listen," said Thaddeus, "but I won't guarantee the other part."
Max laughed nervously and produced a document from his large inner coat-pocket. 99 sat down
in a nearby chair with the twins to listen. She reached down into the bag her husband was carrying
and drew out two bottles to feed them. It wasn't that much sustenance, but it would tide them
over until they were home. Maxwell cleared his throat and began:
"Hymie was broken to begin with, as broken as a robot could be. He had been dismantled
exactly one year ago. He had been given a good Christian burial and was already decaying in his
grave. You must remember this, or nothing that happens later will seem wondrous. . ."
***************
"Wait a minute, Max," interrupted the Chief. "Haven't I heard this story somewhere
before?"
"Not MY version!" insisted Agent 86 before continuing:
"He had been destroyed by a man named Thaddeus who hated everybody and everything ever
since his wife died."
****************
"Max, I never destroyed Hymie, my wife is still living, and I do NOT hate everybody and
everything!" Thaddeus protested.
"It's just a story, Chief," interjected 99 quietly.
"Oh, very well, continue," prompted Chief.
"He worked in a dismal building with more doors and secret panels than employees. The
reason that the structure was so secure could be due to the fact that it was a national intelligence
center. Or maybe the architect was just an eccentric. Whatever the case, it took about ten minutes
from the front entrance to anywhere of importance, which caused Thaddeus's minions to be late
for work on many occasions and gave their boss many migraines.
"It was the Eve of Christmas in 1970 the day the frightful thing happened. Thaddeus, or Chief, as
he was known to the slaves who worked for him, had been verbally abusive to his head security
man that day and threatened to sue him for every penny he was worth if he didn't stop bungling
all of his assignments.
"'But sir,'" began the man, whose name was Maxwell Smart. 'It's Christmas and I want to spend
time with my family.'
"'It's a poor excuse for picking a man's pocket every December the twenty-fifth,'
grumbled Thaddeus. 'But as I'm the only one who knows it, you may have the day off.'"
**************
"Now I know where I've heard this before!" exclaimed Chief. All at once, he seemed to realize
where this story would lead. "Max, don't tell me that you made me Mr. Scrooge!"
"He made you Mr. Scrooge," affirmed 99.
"He asked you not to tell him that!" scolded Agent Smart.
Thaddeus rolled his eyes. "How did you expect this story to cheer me up, 99?" He glared at Mrs.
Smart quite coldly.
"Well, I thought you would find it humorous. After all, the thought of a dear, sweet man like you
being anything like Ebenezer Scrooge is quite ridiculous, wouldn't you say?" 99 laughed gaily as
though her joke was the funniest she had ever heard.
"Well, actually, I didn't mean it as a-" started her husband. 99 kicked him as sharply as she could
in the shins without disturbing the twins. Max doubled over in pain. "Did you have to do that,
99?" he moaned, clutching his leg.
"If you're going to read this story, please hurry up. I DO have places to be on Christmas Eve."
"Alright, Chief, if you insist:
"Max gave a shout and was about to run from the office when Thaddeus shouted, 'But be here all
the earlier the next morning!'
"Yes, Mr. Scroo- I mean Chief!" called the grateful man as he dashed into the cruel December
night.
"Thaddeus rubbed his hands together for warmth and was about to quit the building himself when
he heard the familiar cry of 'Uncle!'
"Thaddeus scowled as Phoebe, his niece, entered the chamber. 'A Merry Christmas, Uncle!'
"'Humbug!' barked the Chief.
"'Christmas a humbug? Oh, Uncle you can't mean that. Christmas is a loving and charitable time
and though it's never put a scrap of gold in my pocket, I believe it has done me good and will do
me good, and I say God Bless it!'
"'What right have you to be so happy,' grumbled Chief, 'you're poor enough.'
"'What right have you to be dismal,' returned Phoebe, 'you're rich enough.'
"'There is no such thing as rich enough only poor enough,' scoffed Thaddeus. 'What matter of
business brings you here at this time of year anyway?'
"'I came here only to invite you, Max, and 99 to Christmas dinner with me tomorrow,' said
Phoebe politely. 'I would ask Hymie, but I know you disassembled him last Christmas. Besides, I
love Max now.' She batted her eyelashes and gazed in the general direction of her uncle with
childish romantic longing."
**********
"Max!" yelled the Chief of CONTROL. "You know very well that Phoebe got over you years
ago!"
"Yeah!" agreed 99 sulkily. "I don't recall THAT part of the story." She bounced the twins on her
knee for emphasis.
"Heh, heh, well . . . would you believe? . ."
"No!" shouted his boss and wife simultaneously. This, of course, woke the twins and they began
to wail.
"Excuse me," 99 said, glaring at Agent Smart as she left the room with their babies.
Max ignored the hubbub in the room and once again commenced his narrative:
"'Phoebe, Max and 99 got married last year,'replied the Chief coldly. 'They now have
twins.'
"'Oh, Uncle!' cried Phoebe and burst into tears.
"'Weeping, weeping: a waste of water'" quoth Thaddeus.
"Phoebe merely shook her tears away and left her uncle with the following words, 'God save you,
and a Merry Christmas anyway.' She slammed the door shut behind her.
"'Bah! Humbug!'"
TBC . . .