Okay after watching a Muppet Christmas Carol this idea popped into my head. So if there is something in this story that you recognize I don't own it and I KNOW there has been CATS versions of Dickens' A Christmas Carol, but please just bare with me? Thank you.

It was a normal December day in London and the Jellicles were mingling around the town they call home. Some of the cats of London were trying to sell different things for the upcoming Holliday. Munkustrap and Quaxo were trying to sell apples in a booth but Quaxo kept eating them.

"Buy them while they last", he called out as Munk advertised the kinds they had. Munk looked at him incredulously.

"They want last long the way you're eating them", Munk said.

"Hey I'm creating scarcity to make the prize go up", Quaxo answered.

Munk sighed.

"Quaxo-" he began but Quaxo had noticed me watching them and cleared his throat. Munk followed his gaze and saw me too.

"Oh hello Eraman", he said. "Welcome to the Jellicle Christmas Carol. I am here to tell the story."

"And I'm here for the food", Quaxo cut in.

"My name is Charles Dickens."

"And I'm Quaxo the-" He realized what Munk had said. "Hey wait a second you're not Charles Dickens."

"I am too!"

"No a furry silver tabby Charles Dickens that hangs out with a kitten?"

"Absolutely!"

Quaxo snorted. "Charles Dickens was a 19-th century novelist a genius."

"Aw thank you you're too kind."

"Why should I", he nods at me. "Or she believe you?"

"Because I know this story as the back of my paw." By now I can barely contain my laughter.

"Oh yeah? Proof it."

Munk huffs annoyed.

"Alright", he says and turns his back to Quaxo and holds out his paw. "Hm there is a scar almost in the middle from where I scratched my paw on a piece of glass."

Quaxo is looking at the paw but then realizes what Munk is doing.

"No no no no", he says annoyed and shakes his head. "Don't tell us your paw tell us the story geez!"

I laugh and notice other spectators do the same and we all look at the two cats.

"Oh oh thank you yes", Munk said and then looks at us with his eyes wide and kinda creepy. "The Marleys were dead to begin with."

I grin but notice Quaxo look shocked.

"Pardon me", he squeaks.

"That's how the story begins Quaxo 'The Marleys were dead to begin with'!"

"Ooooh."

"As dead as a doornail."

"It's a good beginning kinda creepy and all and spooky."

"Why thank you Quaxo."

"You're welcome Mr. Dickens."

Munk rolls his eyes and looks at us again while Quaxo just eats.

"In life the Marleys had been partners with a shroud moneylender named Bustopher Scrooge", Munk went on. "You'll meet him as he comes around that corner." Munk points and Quaxo and we follow his paw.

"Where", Quaxo asks and turns to Munk.

"There", Munk says and points.

"When?"

"Now!" Munk says and Quaxo and we all turn around again and a big cat with a dark look on his face comes around the corner. He is all dressed in black and has a silver spoon he uses as a cane. When he came around the corner it got much colder and darker.

"There he is", Munk said. "Mister Bustopher Scrooge."

He walks past us and I shiver as do Quaxo.

"Say is it getting colder around here", he asked. "Burr…" He shivers. We all start to follow Scrooge… on a safe distance and as Bustopher Scrooge walks by the other cats start to sing.

Ad: When a cold wind blows it chills you
Chills you to the bone
Jelly: But there's nothing in nature that
freezes your heart
Like years of being alone

Skimble: It paints you with indifference
Like a lady paints with rouge
Asp: And the worst of the worst
Jenny: The most hated and cursed
Asp: Is the one that we call Scrooge (yeah)

Pounce: Unkind as any
Tumble: And the wrath of many
Pounce: This is Bustopher Scrooge

All: Oh, there goes Mr. Humbug
There goes Mr. Grim
If they gave a prize for bein' mean
the winner would be him

Asp, Ad, Zo: Oh, Scroogey loves his money
'Cause he thinks it gives him power
Vegetables on a stand:
If he became a flavor you can bet he would be sour

The cat that took care of them shook his head.

"Even the vegetables don't like him", he said.

Etcy, El, Jem: There goes Mr. Skinflint
There goes Mr. Greed
Plato & Zo: The undisputed master of
The underhanded deed
All: He charges folks a fortune
For his dark and drafty houses

Jenny, Jelly, Skimble: As poor folk live in misery
Mouse: It's even worse for mouses

Mouse mother (spoken): Please sir I want some cheese

Queens: He must be so lonely
He must be so sad
He goes to extremes
To convince us he's bad
He's really a victim of fear and of pride
Look close and there must be
a sweet man inside-Naaaah!

All: There goes Mr. Outrage
There goes Mr. Sneer
Plato: He has no time for friends or fun
Tugger: His anger makes that clear
Tumble & Pounce: Don't ask him for a favor
'Cause his nastiness increases
Zo: No crust of bread for those in need
Mice: No cheeses for us meeses

Somehow and I don't know exactly how Munk and Quaxo ended up in front of me and the others and Munk turned to us saying:

"Bustopher Scrooge liked the cold he was hard and sharp as a flint… secretive and selfcontained... as solitary as an oyster…"

All: There goes Mr. Heartless
There goes Mr. Cruel
Toms: He never gives
He only takes
He lets his hunger rule
Queens: If bein' mean's a way of life you
practice and rehearse
Zo: Then all that work is paying off
Zo & Ad:'Cause Scrooge is getting worse
All: Every day
In every way
Scrooge is getting worse

Quite a crowd had crowd had gathered and followed Bustopher to his office and when he suddenly turned around they all fled and I noticed some sneak into the building behind him without him knowing. He narrowed his eyes at us and I pretended to be very interested in my jacket. He glared for a bit more and then said:

"Humbug."

He entered his office and closed the door and I heaved a sigh of relief. I felt someone pull on my leg and looked down and saw Quaxo and Munk. The story was about to continue.