This story is inspired by Charles Dickens's classic A Christmas Carol. Some characters belong to the makers of The Lorax (2012 and 1972) and some plot devices and characters belong to Charles Dickens. I dedicate this story to my sister, Natasha, who was born on Christmas day. I also dedicate this story to the rest of The Once-ler fandom as my Christmas/holiday gift to you all. Have yourself a Merry little Christmas and a Happy New Year!
It was the day of Christmas Eve. The Once-ler sat in his office, going through paperwork, making a few calls, arranging a few appointments, the usual. He was always locked up in his office, too busy to do anything but work. He had barely ate anything, and hardly even slept. If he were to have anytime (and he rarely did) he would sit in his immense arm chair, facing the window, smoking his pipe, thinking how he can bigger his business just "a little more".
He was suddenly interrupted by one of his secretaries, Ms. Shmunce-ler, whose Christmas spirits consumed her with overwhelming joy.
"Merry Christmas Mr. Once-ler! God save you!" she exclaimed as she walked into his office.
"Bah!" he said, not bothering to look up at his assistant. "Humbug!"
"Christmas? A humbug? You don't mean that for sure Mr. Once-ler?" She questioned. She had only worked for him long enough to not know that The Once-ler had time for nothing but for success, therefore, he celebrated nothing but his success. Christmas was nothing to him, ever since he was a child.
"I do, as a matter of fact" he looked up alas, but annoyance reflected in his face. "'Merry Christmas! What reason do you have to be merry, you're poor enough!" Everyone was poor in The Once-ler's eyes, but she didn't take his answer as an insult, for it was Christmas Eve for heaven's sake.
"Come then," she retorted. "What reason do you have to be bitter? You're rich enough."
"What do you have for me Ms. Schmunce-ler?" he asked impatiently, taping his fingers on his desk, having nothing else to say.
"A guest came to see you" she said as if it already became a routine.
"Is it that Lorax again? Send him out!" he said, aggressively shuffling papers.
"He told me he knew you were going to say that, so he left me this note" she pulled a flat piece of bark from a tree with the sloppiest of handwriting. Once-ler considered it to be of a creature dumber than a first grader, the Lorax.
"I read it over and it talks about smog in the air, shlop in the water, diseases spreading, food shortages..." the words drifted away into the air. The Once-ler knew it was the same note he received last week, and the week before, and so on. The ending was "STOP CUTTING DOWN THE TREES!" but the bad handwriting made him understand it only after the first seven times he received the note.
"He also says that some of the animals are in the verge of death" continued Mrs. Schmunce-ler.
"Tell him to leave. No air, no water, no health, no food, no 'stop cutting the trees' for all I care. If any animal is in the verge of death, let him be and decrease the excessive population. And dear Ms. Shmunce-ler, stop wasting my time!"
"Yes sir" she said and left his office, leaving The Once-ler alone with his work.
After days of being tirelessly working in his office, The Once-ler decided he should have at least a bit of sleep. He went to his bedroom (which was conveniently connected to his office by a secret door) and went to bed.
Not long after, he heard a strange noise from the balcony of his room which woke him up. He didn't got up from his bed, but pretended to sleep, while his hand reached for a button that called his bodyguards just in case someone broke in. He heard foot steps walking slowly on the wooden floor and just as he was about to press the button, the source spoke up.
"Wake up Once-ler" it said, with a cold, ghostly voice.
"Wh-who are y-you?" The Once-ler slowly got up, hiding behind his blankets.
"Look at me" The Once-ler hesitated, but eventually took a peek.
"What are you doing here?! What do you want with me?!" It was the fastidious Lorax.
"Much" the Lorax answered. The Once-ler couldn't help but notice the Lorax looked quite translucent and had a weird gloomy glow of the color orange. Also, that he seemed to float in the air.
"Can you sit down?" asked Once-ler, doubtingly.
"I can."
"Do it then."
The Once-ler asked the question to see weather or not the Lorax had died and turned into a ghost to haunt him. The Lorax sat down by the fireplace on a chair, making direct eye contact with The Once-ler.
"You don't believe in me?" asked the Lorax.
"I'm not sure" replied The Once-ler, who tried to come up with reasonable explanations.
"Here me out, my time is nearly up" said the Lorax in a serious tone.
"What do you mean?" asked The Once-ler.
"You will be hunted," resumed the Lorax, "by Three Spirits."
"I-I don't think so" said Once-ler.
"Without their visits," continued the Lorax, "you will walk the rest of your life chained to loneliness and regret. All your days will be dark, but this will be your only hope to escape the fate that you have designed yourself with your actions."
"Why should I trust you?" The Once-ler asked. It had come to his mind that maybe this was a little stunt Lorax was playing to convince him out of cutting down the trees. The little mustached peanut had a talent of appearing seemingly out of nowhere.
"Expect the first at midnight," resumed Lorax, "and the rest successively. And when the visits are done, remember what you saw and what you heard. Good luck, Once-ler"
With that, the Lorax faded into the darkness. Not a trace of his visit was left. The Once-ler sat by the fire, in the seat that the Lorax occupied earlier, not sure if he didn't believe the Lorax or if he was waiting for what was to come.