(I have been having this idea ever since November, and I just knew that I would have to do this sooner or later. Well, after much work and after reading and remembering this beloved holiday story, I have made up my own version of Charles Dickens most famous tale...With Transformers staring in it. And I bet you all know who the role of the Bad guy turned Good guy is. If not, I'll show the cast below. *Note: These are all characters from the G1 series*
Megatron as Megatron Scrooge
Optimus Prime as Optimus Cratchit
Starscream as Starscream Marley
Arcee as The Ghost of Christmas Past
Grimlock as The Ghost of Christmas Present
Unicron as The Ghost of Christmas Future
Sideswipe and Sunstreaker as The Members of the Cybertronian Institute of Welfare and Goodwill
Hot Rod as Megatron's Nephew
Moon Gem as Herself
Elita 1 as Optimus Cratchit's Wife
Achilles and Sapphire as themselves
Bumblebee as Tiny Bee
*One other Note: Just like with my other story for the holidays, Elitarella, all characters do not transform and only rely on horse and carriage for transport. The characters in this story are also not refereed as Autobots and Decepticons. And there will be snowy weather and it will all take place in the 1800's in human terms.)
All righty then, now that the cast is ready, just sit back, relax, have some christmas hot chocolate by your side, and listen to the holiday tale of A Transformers Christmas Carol. Disclaimer: I do not own A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens or the Transformer characters mentioned. All credit goes to their respective owners. The only characters I own are Moon Gem, Achilles and Sapphire.)
TYPE - Shouting
Type - Thought
Type - Normal
Type - Establishment
..::* A Transformers Christmas Carol*::..
The skies above the world of Cybertron, a planet that was inhabited by living and thinking robotic organisms, were covered in a shoal of white and grey clouds, and small snowflakes came down in drifting drops. The snow from above blanketed the country sides and street of the planet, and the towns and cities were decorated in a winter wonderland.
All cybertronians were all out and about, for this weather wasn't only the first sign of winter, but it was the start of a holiday they all treasured. Christmas. A holiday in which all life put aside their differences and joined together in harmony, bringing gifts of love to loved ones and friends, to show kindness to the less fortunate, and to remember the night when their creator, Primus, came to life and brought peace to the world they lived on.
The night of Christmas Eve was a time of all cybertronians to get the last minute gifts, arrive on time for feasts and parties, a time of night that every bot was inside, close to the fire, warm and comfortable. All was merry and gay.
The least could be said for an empty street, leading to Scrooge and Marley's Counting House. Yet, despite the name, the 'Marley' in question was no longer online. Starscream Marley was dead, as dead as a rusted plate of Titanium. His certificate and burial were all attended by the only mourner.
A squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous old sinner by the name of Megatron Scrooge. This cybertronian miser was tight, cruel, and despicable being, a tight-fisted hand at the iron plates, hard and sharp as a blade, and secretive and solitary as a chromed oyster. The winter cold froze his features and all who saw him saw nothing but a frozen stare in his crimson, red optics.
It had been 7,000 stellar cycles after Starscream Marley's death, yet his last initials were still vaguely seen on the rusted sign that hun above the door of the establishment. The inside of the building was almost as cold as Megatron's own spark; ice covered the outside windows, and even a tiny breath from anyone brave enough to enter could be seen in a puff of white smoke.
In one room of the building, a red and blue mech named Optimus Cratchit, sat on his stool by a desk, going over all the tax letters, mortgage letters, and payment letters that documented the financial keep for the very few customers that came to the counting house. His blue, gentle hands shook furiously, but not due to frustration but from the freezing and frost-bitten atmosphere of the building. The small, dim fire that was next to him was nearly a small speck of orange, yellow light, yet, he could not bare to sneak into his master's office and gather some coal in a small containment box, for he knew that Megatron Scrooge would lower his already low, and depleting salary.
As the employee that was near to kiss the lip plates of the frozen enchantress of winter, Megatron Scrooge sat in his office; a well kept and warm room that only reflected not only the cold half of his character, but also his spring and summer self; a boiling, and burning miser. A winter miser, or a spring miser, Megatron Scrooge was the most feared and disposed being of the planet. Not a spark or life force did he care for. All that he kept his cold and sinful attention was the clinking and jingling sound of coins, the smooth and partial leathery texture of bills. To him, these were the civilians that he saw from his fantasies that would show great respect like a king of a long forgotten era.
The door burst open, and a young, red and yellow cybertronian came inside, said his greetings to Optimus and came into the office. It was Hot Rod, Megatron Scrooge's nephew, and only relative. "A Merry Christmas to you, Uncle!" he greeted with a joyful and happy grin on his lip plates.
The miser only scoffed and sneered. "Christmas? Bah, Humbug!"
"Christmas a Humbug, Uncle? Oh, surely you do not mean that."
"I do, Nephew." Megatron huffed as he brought out a sheet of paper, meaning to write down the percentage of a payment that was due to a client that was long due over a month ago. "What right have you to be merry? You are poor enough." Megatron grumbled as he sprawled with his pen.
Hot Rod, being steadfast and not one of giving up a fight amongst his peers, went back at his uncle. "What right have you to be dismal, Uncle? You're rich enough."
"Humbug! I am rich, rich enough to see that Christmas is nothing more but a year where all people become fools of themselves, throwing all their expenses to a toast to a family, finding themselves another year older and not a penny richer." Megatron then arose from his desk and went over to his nephew, a sneer of disgust and severity upon his faceplate, and a look of stern firmness in his optics. "If I were to have my way, any fool who had a 'Merry Christmas" on his faceplate should be boiled in his or her own oil pudding, and be buried with a stake of crystalized holly in their spark."
Hot Rod felt a cold chill run up his spinal cables and the color of his faceplate was white as the snow from outside. "Uncle, please, I only came to ask of you to join me and my wife at our Christmas party tomorrow, in hope of changing your thoughts about the holiday." Hot Rod answered in hopes of changing the subject all together, but the miser was undeterred as he went back to his desk and sat down.
"Why did you even marry?" Megatron asked, his optics not fixed upon the young bot.
"Why? I married because I fell in love."
"Love? Bah, another thing more foolish than Christmas."
Hot Rod's audio receptors had taken in quite enough of the abuse his own uncle had spoken of the holiday. So, the youth inhaled the cool air, but as he exhaled the voice emitted seemed to hove been born from the flames of courage. When the nephew began to speak, Optimus had to look and see what this only relative had to say against his uncle.
"I always saw Christmas as a charitable, and honorable time of year. A time where all life open up the warmth of their sparks to strangers, both rich and poor, and see them as members of their own family. It is a time where all beings are given a second chance of life, a chance to see a bright new future. It is true that Christmas may have not put a piece of gold or silver into my pocket, but I believed that Christmas's spiritual hand has led me to the right path, and in doing so has done me good and will always do me good. Therefore, I will always treasure this holiday for all its worth, and I say to it, Primus Bless It!"
The bravery and virtue of the young bot had lifted the very spark of Optimus, and he had to stand up form his stool and applauded, his metal hands clapping like the chimes of dull cymbals.
"Enough!" Megatron yelled, and the cymbals of Optimus's hands ceased their tune and he sat back down. "Another sound from you, Cratchit, and you will be on the Unemployment Line." Megatron further warned the silent mech as the miser returned his red optics to the bright blue ones of his nephew. "You have wasted enough business time, Hot Rod. Leave me at once."
Hot Rod nodded, but as he went to the black door, he turned to utter one last word of defiance. "If you are wishing to remain dismal, you have every right. Yet, I will still wish you a Merry Christmas, so, Merry Christmas, Uncle Scrooge!"
"Get Out!" Scrooge roared, and the red and yellow youth closed the door behind him, and the miser watched as his only living relative walk off, bowing to all who came to him, wishing them a Merry Christmas. "Humbug. Never become a husband, Cratchit. Nothing more than another excuse to being a jester."
"But, I am married, sir."
Megatron Scrooge only growled like a disturbed bionic-bear that was stirred from its hibernation as he went on with the rest of the documents he had. At least he could hope that no other fools would bother him at his establishment any longer.
A series of knocks on the door made the miser lift his head, and he ordered Optimus to open the door and see who was upon the door step. "Yes? May I help you, gentlebots?" Optimus asked, and the after replying that the proprietor was still around, Megatron Scrooge looked to see two mechs, one being yellow and the other being red, come into the office. The yellow mech was the first to announce himself to Megatron.
"Good Evening, sir. I am Sunstreaker, and this is my brother, Sideswipe. May we have the pleasure of addressing either Mr. Scrooge or Mr. Marley?"
Megatron looked over the mechs and sneered, his denta briefly seen as a snarl. "Starscream Marley has been offline for 7,000 stellar cycles; been offline for 7,000 stellar cycles this very night."
"Oh, well then, Mr. Scrooge, we are members of the Cybertronian Institute of Welfare and Goodwill. You see, at this very season, it is when our Institute as well as many others, to provide shelter and necessities for those who are in destitute, and are suffering at this very moment due to the weather and dwindling amount of fuel and warmth." said Sideswipe as he handed over a sheet of paper, listing the Institute's goal in terms of business as well as a written form for potential members of donators.
Megatron Scrooge read through the paper in his chromed, iron cladded head, each word and syllable filing him with disgust and annoyance. After he placed the form down on the table, he looked back at the two mechs and asked, "Are there no Prisons? Are there no Workhouses?"
Both brothers looked towards each other and returned their gaze to their supposed donator. "Yes, there are plenty of them, even though we wish they were not." answered Sideswipe, to which Megatron chuckled as he stood up and handed the paper back to them. "Uhh, how much would you like to put down, Mr. Scrooge?"
"Nothing."
"You wish to remain anonymous?"
"I wish to be left alone." the tyrant miser snarled as the twins backed away from his growing, invisible dome of tolerance. "I do not make merry at this time of holiday, and I do not plan on this holiday to waste all of my profits to make idle cybertronians merry. All my taxes pay for the Workhouses and Prisons, and those who are badly off should go to either one!" Sunstreaker tried to convince the white fortress with ruby optics, that those who are poor would rather go offline than to go to either the Prison or Workhouse. Megatron Scrooge's fortress caved in like the walls of Earth's Jericho, and he roared in volume to rival that of a lion. "IF THEY ARE TO GO OFFLINE, THEN THEY BETTER DO SO, AND DECREASE THE SURPLUS POPULATION!"
All sounds of either breath of creaks of the ancient building seemed to halt in the passing of time. Only the echoes of the miser rang in both Sideswipe's, Sunstreaker's, and Optimus's audio receptors. If nothing could convince the charitable mechs that this robot of a devil was not in any interest of their goal, that spark-stopping statement of allowing the poor to die was all it took.
Sideswipe coughed and he aloneg with his brother, left to the door. "I guess there is little we can do here. Good Evening, Mr. Scrooge."
"What a beast." muttered Sunstreaker, and his yellow brother nodded in agreement. Optimus Cratchit felt even more cold, but this cold feeling was not of hatred as most others related the feeling to, but rather of hurt and sadness. Optimus Cratchit, as well as his family, were very poor. And as he watched his master return to his desk to growl and grumble, Optimus Cratchit sighed and looked back at his set of documents and heard his own thoughts form inside.
If only something can change him. I know that there is goodness in all life, and I am sure there is some inside of Mr. Scrooge. He must have a kindling flame of that generosity he must have had before I knew him. If only he could find it.
The strong and throbbing voice of the clock tower rang at the signal of the arrival of 10:00 p.m. All work employee's were all leaving their companies and establishments to begin the quick and speedy voyage to their homes, and be on time for the Christmas festivities which they have been waiting since the very morning they had risen from their berths.
Optimus Cratchet was eager to leave his desk and take his coat from the rack in the hall and to open the door, and leap into the outside world. Yet, his eagerness also came with a nervous apprehension. Mr. Scrooge was never keen on those who were eager to take a day off to spend the day in holiday cheer, so he waited until he heard the miser push his chair back against the desk he occupied and stepped out to retrieve his cane and coat. "I suppose you would want the rest of tomorrow off, Mr. Cratchit?" Megatron asked.
"If it is convenient, Mr. Scrooge." Optimus began, but his masters voice interrupted.
"Convenient? More like Inconvenience. 'Tis nothing more than an excuse pick at my pocket every December 25th. But, I suppose you will need to take the whole day anyway. You may take the day off tomorrow..." Optimus was almost close to make his exit through the door when his masters cane took up the rest of the space between the wall and the miser. "...But, I expect you to arrive early for work the day after, and if you are late, you will be fired."
"Y-yes sir." Optimus nodded as he waited for Megatron Scrooge to place his coat on him and followed him through the black door.
As he watched Megatron Scrooge, the white plague of cruel bitterness make his way to his home, Optimus Cratchit made his way as well, but his plague was none of the sort. He felt more like a ship sailing upon calm seas as he walked throughout the lit, snow covered streets, smiling with joy and cheer. He would say his greetings to any who passed by him and would chuckle at the sight of younglings having their last minute snowball fight, even joined in a few under their consent, and would bow his head upon each statue of the god, Primus. Indeed, Optimus felt more free to show his acts of love and joy to all strangers, for he saw them as members of his own lineage.
As he came to a street lamp, he looked once more up into the sky, seeing a small open patch with a bright, shinning star, Optimus Cratchit once more heard his thoughts. Primus, I pray that you can show Megatron Scrooge the true meaning of this holiday. Please, help him see what I see. Help him feel the way I feel.
*Authors Note*
(How was the first stave, or chapter as Charles Dickens would put it? I am at work on the second part and will post it soon for everyone's pleasure. Feel free to comment. Sparkling Lover out.)
