A Producers Christmas Carol Chapter 2: Act 1 Boris' Ghost, a producers fanfic

Boris Tomashevski was dead. To begin with. As dead as a doornail. Max Bialystock knew he was dead? Of course he did. But it must be stated that Max knew Boris was dead or the events I'm about to relate will not be as miraculous. Max was Boris' soul benefactor and mourner. He inherited Boris' theatrical production company. And now he was the King of Broadway. He had a string of flops that for a while left him dependent on every sex crazed little old lady in New York as 'investors'. But fate stepped in and paired him up with his new partner, Leo Bloom.

Of course since Max was this close to being a con artist, him and the former accountant tried to put on the worst show in history to pocket the two million dollars they raised for the show. Only the show Springtime for Hitler was a big hit. After a brief time in jail, they were given a full pardon and were now on top again producing hit after hit. Okay is everybody caught up on the exposition? Good. Moving on!

It was Christmastime in 1959...say that's catchy. good name for an big production number. So picture New York City. It's snowing, big fat flakes. And while in Central Park it looks like a picture print by Currier and Ives...on Broadway in Schubert's Alley, it looks like black slush. Except for the yellow snow by that guy standing with his face to the wall...hey! Get out of there! Zip it up!

As the perv runs away, hopefully to a restroom to wash his hands...we find song and dance pouring out of the Schubert's theater and onto the street. For the latest Bialystock and Bloom production, 'A Christmas Carol' was in full dress rehearsal.

"Every Christmas since 1843 it's been the same year after year...
Christmas stories abound Stories about Santa and elves...and reindeer are found.

But one stands out as the best...
But we're so sick of it...we say...
GIVE IT A REST! sang the chorus as scantily clad chorus girls in hot red and white costumes tap-danced across the stage.

"Its another version of a Christmas Carol...
Those classic characters are back in...disguise...
But they ain't foolin' us...
We're catchin' wise...
This sentimental tale's in a rut!
It's another version of a Christmas Carol!
Carol!
Carol!

So what? sang Roger De Bris, famed Broadway director and Tony award winning star.

Tony! Tony! Tony!

Oh...kay...anyway...Roger was dressed in a top hat and tails with a red vest and bow tie. The set was decorated with Christmas lights and evergreens, the sparkle making it truly feel like Christmas.

Ebenezer's greedy...
Bob Crachit's needy...
Jacob Marley shakin' his chains!
Those three spooky ghosts...
Fezziwig plays host...
Nephew Fred toasts...
And Tiny Tim will walk again! HEY

The chorus girls broke out into a joyous dance, their choreography spotless and in rhythm.

"Its another version of a Christmas Carol...
Those classic characters are back in...disguise...
But they ain't foolin' us...
We're catchin' wise...
This sentimental tale's in a rut!
It's another version of a Christmas Carol!
Carol!
Carol!

So what?

"But Charles Dickens's famous story still has all it's former glory...
I don't think it's ever lost it's charm...
so why is it every winter season...
Moviemakers and entertainers find a reason...
To retell...
remake...
Now there's 151 adaptations give or take! sang Roger and the company lining up to do a chorus line. They began to do high kicks singing,

So what?

"So what's one more version of a Christmas Carol?
We've given those classic characters a disguise!
So listen to us...
And you'll be wise!
This sentimental tale's got a brand new spin!
So what's one more version of a Christmas Carol?
Carol?
Carol?

So let's begin!" sang the company finishing the number.

"Do it again!" said Max Bialystock. The cast groaned.

"Again? But Max we've done the number three times already!" protested Roger putting a hand on his hip. Stocky with greased black hair, Max gave a sigh and stood up from his seat in the empty auditorium.

"People, people! Listen, this is the first Christmas production of Bialystock and Bloom productions. And we're all family right?" Max asked.

"Well yeah,"

"Sure."

Right." the cast nodded.

"Then shut your traps and do it again!" Max barked as everyone groaned.

"Right after you all take a break!" came the voice of Max's partner, Leo.

"Thank you!" Roger said swinging his arms before walking off the set to meet his common-in-law assistant Carmen Ghia.

"Leo! What are you giving them a break for?" Max asked the younger man with brown hair as he came up the center aisle.

"Max we've been rehearsing 'A Christmas Carol' for over a month. We don't need to drive them so hard." Leo said.

"Leo, dear simple Leo. Which one of us has more experience in the theater?" Max asked putting an arm around his friend s shoulder.

"Well you do Max."

"And which one of us was the protege of Boris Tomashevski?" Max asked.

"Ooh!"

"(sigh) You were Max." Leo sighed.

"That's right. So which of us knows what's he's doing?" Max asked.

"Leo!"

"That's right...Leo...hey!" Max cried at the interruption. They turned seeing their leading lady and Leo's gorgeous blond Swedish wife Ulla sashay up the aisle.

"Leo, you forgot to kiss Ulla goodbye!" Ulla pouted.

"How can he kiss you goodbye? You work together." Max pointed out.

"But Ulla don't get to kiss and cuddle Leo all day. Ulla gets so lonely vithout her Leo." Ulla said fingering Leo's lapel.

"Oy..."Max said rolling his eyes.

"Sorry Ulla. It won't happen again." Leo reassured her. Then Ulla pulled him close for a hot and heavy kiss. Even going to far as to squeeze his butt. Max was beginning to feel awkward when Ulla pulled away from Leo's lip with a pop and told him tapping him on the nose,

"Now Ulla go get ready to rehearsials."

"Okay." Leo smiled as they Eskimo kissed and Ulla bounced away.

"Double oy...how can such a shmuck be so lucky?" Max asked his partner.

"I don't know Max. I honestly don't know." Leo said with a happy sigh.

"Why did you ever get married?" Max asked.

"Why? Because I fell in love Max." Leo told him.

"Love? Yeesh. Only thing sillier than wishing someone a merry Christmas." Max scoffed picking up his script.

"Don't be like that Max." Leo said.

"If I could work my will...every idiot who goes about with "Merry Christmas" on his lips...would be cooked with his own turkey and buried. With a stake of holly through his heart." Max said.

"Max that's terrible!" Leo cried.

"Huh? Oh! Sorry pal, just reading aloud from the script." Max said tapping on the script. But he softly said under his breath,

"Although sometimes I think ol' Ebenezer had the right idea."

"Max. That's no way to be. Why Ulla is so excited about her first Christmas in America, she's teaching me all the Swedish traditions. And she's been cooking nonstop since Thanksgiving."Leo protested.

"Yeesh...how are you still fitting into your pants?" Max asked.

"We...exercise...a lot." Leo said slightly blushing.

"Oy...listen Leo. You keep Christmas in your own way and let me keep it in mine. Capeese?"

"But Max Christmas is a loving, honest and charitable time." Leo began.

"Charitable? Who gives a flying fig about charity?" Max asked.

"It's a tax write off." the former accountant pointed out.

"Although..." Max said reconsidering it.

"In fact Max...I was thinking...maybe this year, we can donate the profits of our Christmas show to charity." Leo suggested. Max stumbled, clutching his heart and falling to the ground.

"Charity!"

"Max are you alright?" Leo asked his partner.

"CHARITY?" Max demanded grabbing Leo and shaking him by the lapels of his suit.

"It was just a thought Max."

"Keep those thoughts to yourself! Tax write off or no there is no one here who cares about charity!" Leo yelled.

"..."Carmen Ghia interrupted stretching out his greeting.

"Are we interrupting something boys?" Roger asked joining them.

"Oh no...not at all...we were just discussing if we wanted to donate any money to charity this year." Leo said prying Max's hands from around his neck. Exchanging a look, Roger and Carmen smiled.

"Funny you should mention it." Carmen said.

"This year, We're joining the Order of Victor, Victoria Charity Foundation. " Roger said as Max and Leo exchanged a look.

"We'd like to speak to you about a donation." Carmen added.

"At this festive season of the year. Gents... many of us feel that we must take care of our poor and homeless." Roger said dramatically draping his arms around both of their shoulders.

"And the drunkards and the hookers." Carmen added.

"The slime of society... never get the niceties... that we're use to day by day..." Roger began to sing.

"Oy vey..."Max groaned.

"The widows and orphans never get a break, but we can help them! And change their fate." Carman sang.

"Give a man a fish and he eats for a day! Teach a man to fish and it s anchors away!" Roger sang.

"Charity's about giving, so come on and give it to us! Charity's about caring! so come on and give it to us! this is the time of year where we show people that it's important they live! So come on and give give give give give!" they both sang skipping around in a circle around Max and Leo.

"What about the prisons?" Max asked.

"And the YMCA?" Leo asked.

"Y-M-C-A!" sang Roger's production team.

"Oh. Plenty of those. Sir. " Roger laughed.

"Oh! Excellent! For a moment. I was worried." Max said as Leo gave him a disappointed look.

"Give a man a fish and he eats for a day! Teach a man to fish and anchors away!" Carmen sang.

"Give give give give give!" sang their production team prancing around.

"Gee...uh...that's great fellas." Max said mouthing 'wow' to Leo.

"Some of us are endeavoring to raise a fund for the poor and the homeless." Roger explained.

"What might we put you down for?" Carmen Ghia asked pulling out his rhinestone-covered notepad and pen.

"Oh, put me down for..."Leo began.

"Nothing." Max interrupted.

"An anonymous donation! Oh that's so humble of you ol' boy." Roger declared.

"No...no donation. Every year I get hit up for donations to charities and causes that don't concern me and only ending up costing me money." Max said.

"But Max..."Roger pouted stomping his foot.

"Don't but Max me Roger! I get taxed like any other stiff and taxes go to prisons and welfare programs. So the poor can go there for a handout." Max said gathering his hat and coat. The production team each put a hand to their chest with a gasp,

"But some would rather die!" Carmen cried.

"Good. Decrease the surplus population! Less poor means problem solved! Now breaks over. Get the cast ready for the Christmas Eve show in three days." Max said walking out.

"Sorry guys. Talk to me later about a donation, okay? Max! Max wait up!" Leo said chasing after his partner.

"Well! I never!" Roger said insulted.

"What a Scrooge." Shirley Markowitz, the very butch set designer added in her very deep bass voice. The rest of the production team nodded in agreement.

"Max wait up!" Leo said catching up to Max outside on the street.

"Leo we're still trying to pay back the government for Springtime for Hitler. And A Christmas Carol is going over budget. We can't afford to give anything away. So I'm done talking about it!" Max said.

"That's not true Max. I did the books this morning. We've already paid back the government and we're beginning to see a small profit." Leo said.

"Exactly. Small! Think big Leo! You need to think big! Look, come with me to the office, I have something to show you." Max said.

"Okay Max. But I really do think we should discuss the charity idea a little more." Leo said.

"There's nothing to discuss." Max said.

"Maxie!" called a little voice. Looking over to a black limo, Max cringed,

"Great...it's Hold Me-Touch Me...Hello gorgeous!"

The little old blue haired lady giggled as Max reached through the open window to kiss her gloved hand.

"Bialy, you'll come visit me on Christmas Day won't you?" she asked bundled up in furs.

"If I can my darling. This is a busy year for Bialy." Max told her.

"Oh please try. I have a present for you." she said slyly.

"I'll bet. Buh bye! Bye bye!" he said waving at her through the window before her driver pealed out.

"Dirty old buzzard..."Max muttered under his breath.

"Heir Bialystock! Heir Bloom!" called a voice.

"Oy...now what?" Max asked turning to see Franz Leibkind, the big tall goofy German Nazi. Normally, he was the regular author of their shows, but since they were doing A Christmas Carol, he didn't have much to do right now. Max and Leo noticed that even though he was dressed in his customary leather coat, German helmet and gloves and scarf, he still wore lederhosen despite the cold.

"Franz aren't you cold?" Leo asked.

"Cold? BAH! Dis is picnic veather vere I come from!" Franz scoffed.

"So what is it big guy? What can we do ya for?" Max asked.

"I would like to invite you und heir Bloom to a Christmas party on my rooftop on Christmas Day. We're going to have schnapps und beer und pretzels und de best wurst in all New York!" Franz said handing them each an invitation.

"Oh, that's very nice of you Franz." Leo said with a smile.

"Oh yeah...too bad we'll be rehearsing our new show." Max said tucking the invite back in Franz's pocket.

"Vhat?" Franz and Leo asked at once.

"New show? Max that's Christmas Day!" Leo said.

"They'll get the morning off. After all they would have done the Christmas show the night before. They can sleep in a little." Max said.

"Max, Half an day off hardly seems customary for Christmas Day." Leo said.

"Ja. And it'll really cut into my party!" Franz nodded.

"Sorry pal. But the whole cast is going to be busy with the new show, including you since I want you to write it!" Max said jabbing him in the chest.

"Ow..."Franz said rubbing the spot on his chest.

"Max what is this new show of yours?" Leo asked. He ushered them into their office building and up the stairs. Max lived and worked in an office two buildings down from the Schubert's Theater. It was an inheritance from his old mentor Boris Tomashevski. It was an old brick building, once the land of showbiz hopes and Broadway dreams, most of the building was empty now, those illustrious imaginings lost to decay. Entering the Swedish modern white office, courtesy of Ulla and her paint brush, Max went to a covered easel and pulled back the drop cloth exclaiming,

"Behold!"

Leo and Franz just stared blankly for a moment exchanging a look with each other.

"Gentleman, may I present to you, our newest Bialystock and Bloom production! 'Le Red Windmill!" Max exclaimed.

"Le Red Windmill?" they both asked.

"Yeah yeah! It came to me in a dream! It's the story of a beautiful can can dancer in turn of the century France!" Max began to explain.

"France? Bleck!" Franz retched.

"Just hear me out. She falls in love with a penniless writer, but she's been promised to the investor of her show, the jealous duke! What do ya think?" Max asked.

"Well..."Leo began.

"Can't you see it?

Can't you smell it?

Can't you touch it?

Can't you kiss it?

It's something marvelous and wild

so don't be timid and mild.

Think Big! Think Big! Think Big! "Max sang.

"But Heir Bialystock..."Franz tried to interrupt. Max pushed them both on the couch,

"Think big! Not small!

You might as well not think at all!

Life's about taking risks and chances!

Not second guessing and backward glances!

It's something marvelous and wild

so don't be timid and mild.

Think Big! Think Big! Think Big! "Max sang. He hopped up on the coffee table and sang,

"I see it now! A line of girls in corsets doing the can can can!"

"But we can't can't can't!" sang Franz and Leo.

"Yes we can can can! And it'll happen just like this." Max told them.

"A case of mistaken identity brings the lovers together,

But when the truth comes out oy vey!

But they keep their love secret anyway.

He writes her a secret song,

not too short, not too long.

It declares their love is still going strong.

But then the duke comes along!

tells her he'll kill the writer if she don't play along.

So she tells the writer so long.

But he comes back and see's what wrong.

But before they can run, the Duke sees red

and then in the end everyone's dead!" Max sang.

"Dead?" Leo asked.

"The ending still needs work." Max told them. Then he went for his big finish.

It's something marvelous and wild

so don't be timid and mild.

Think Big! Think Big! Think Big! "Max sang.

"It's promising Max. But why can't we wait until the spring to give us some time to get it right?" Leo asked.

"Leo Leo! Darling Leo! We have to strike while the iron is hot! I figure if we open on New Year's Eve..." Max said.

"But Max no one on Broadway is going to put on show on New's Years Eve." Leo interrupted.

"Ja dey too busy getting schnockered." Franz added.

"Will you two listen to me? If we're the only ones putting on a show on New's Year Eve, everyone in New York will want to come see it. Heck we may even have to do two shows in one night!" Max said seeing dollar signs.

"But Max..."Leo began.

"Don't argue with me Leo. I know what I'm doing. Remember you're the one still learning the ropes. Now I want you guys to tell everyone that we start rehearsals for the new show at noon sharp on Christmas Day." Max said taking off his hat and coat.

"But Heir Bialystock!" Franz began.

"Max we don't have enough petty cash to start a new show this soon. Not until after the new year." Leo said.

"We do if we cut the Christmas bonus." Max said going around his desk.

"Cut de Christmas bonus?" Franz exclaimed.

"We all have to make sacrifices for our art Big Guy." Max said.

"Max, we can't cut the bonus. We have people depending on that money for Christmas." Leo said.

"Oh come on Leo. So they won't waste their money on stupid gifts for people who won't even remember what they got last year! I'm doing them a favor." Max said sitting down.

"Max what happened to you? Why do you hate Christmas?" Leo asked.

"I'm getting my gun!" Franz yelled stomping out.

"I don't hate Christmas. I love Christmas. It's a time to make money. Poor saps getting all sentimental. Wanting to make memories for the kiddies. And a Max Bialystock show is the perfect kind of memory don't you think?" Max asked.

"Christmas is about spending time with family and friends max, not seeing some dumb show on Broadway. And though it's never put any money in my pocket... I believe that Christmas has done me good and will do me good...and I think it really stinks that you don't feel the same." Leo said.

"You're entitled to your opinion. But why don't you scram while I catch a quick nap? Make sure Franz don't get arrested again huh?"Max asked him waving him out.

"Merry Christmas Max." Leo sighed dryly.

"Bah humbug!" Max called out. Leo shook his head as he closed the door behind him.

"Great. Been spending too much time with this show. Before you know it, I'm going to be seeing my own ghosts!" Max said picking up his ledgers.

"Maxella..." groaned a voice. He furrowed his brow looking around. Then he shrugged and went back to the books.

"Maxella!" the voice insisted. Max looked around again. Shaking his head when he saw nothing.

"What do you got cotton in your ears? Turn around you putz!" ordered the voice. Slowly Max turned and stood from his chair. He saw one of the posters on the wall, the one for Funny Boy. But something was off. Max squinted his eyes seeing instead of Hamlet holding a skull, Hamlet was holding a very familiar head.

"Boris? Boris Tomashevski?" Max asked with a whimper.

"MAXELLA!" the head groaned as Max screamed and dived behind the white leather couch. He poked his head out, his comb over sticking straight up. Seeing the poster had returned back to normal, Max released a breath he was holding and said to himself as he climbed over the back of the couch,

"It was just a figment of my imagination! Stress...that's all it was. Stress."

Of course he was just trying to convince himself of this fact. To say that Max was not startled would be untrue. Still. The moment had passed. And the world was as it should be. Now. Once again. I must ask you to remember that Boris Tomashevski was dead and decaying in his grave. That one thing you must remember or nothing that follows will seem wondrous.

"Sleep. That's what I need sleep." Max said laying down. He closed his eyes beginning to drift off. He was briefly awoken when he heard his small grandfather clock on top of his piano chime the hour. But he furrowed his brow when he heard the clock chime twelve times.

"Twelve? I only laid down when it was past six? How long have I been out?" Max asked sitting up and checking his pocket watch. Sure enough he looked out the window, seeing it was dark out, New York traffic muffled through the frosted window.

"Maxella...Maxella..."groaned a voice like a whispering wind.

"Hello?" Max asked.

"Maxella...Maxella..."groaned the voice followed by a persistent knocking.

"Who's there? Show yourself!" Max demanded standing to his feet. Then he gasped in fright when someone actually stepped through the door of the office that read Bialystock and Bloom Theater Producers. Like a mist of vapor the form came together to the appearance of a little old man in a tux and black fedora, his body wrapped in heavy chains, and he carried a large safe in his grasp.

"Oy...what a shelp! Ya think they would have installed an elevator by now." the old man huffed.

"Who are you?" Max asked.

"In life. I was your beloved mentor, Boris Tomashevski!" the ghost said.

"Ooh!"

"It looks like you. But I don't believe it! You're dead!" Max said.

"Look at me. I'm standing here. You haven't asked me to sit down. You haven't put on a pot of coffee. I don't see any nosh around. Least you could do is treat me like a guest. Why do you doubt your senses?" Boris asked.

"Because a little thing can affect them. Indigestion! That's it I had a bad lunch. That hamburger did taste a little funny. The beef, the cheese the mustard all of it! Oh yeah, there's more gravy than of grave about you Pal!" Max said wagging a finger in Boris' face. Without missing a beat, Boris dropped the safe on Max's foot.

"OW!" Max cried grabbing his foot and hopping up and down.

"That caused by indigestion wise guy?" Boris asked.

"Sorry...um...can you sit down?" Max asked.

"I can." Boris nodded. He made to sit next to the couch, but after hovering there a moment, he fell flat on his can.

"How embarrassing! It worked for Albert Finney!" Boris said as Max helped him up. Sitting down for real this time, Boris thanked Max who sat on the couch opposite him and asked, "Why do you come to me?"

"To warn you. You're being a pain in the tukhus. And that's not how you're suppose to be around Christmas." Boris said.

"Not you too! Why does everybody think I'm being such a Scrooge about the whole Christmas thing?" Max said.

"Hello...You got a ghost of an old business associate warning you to mend your ways in your office." Boris pointed out.

"Oh yeah...but who are you to talk anyway? I don't remember you getting all sappy around the holidays. Not even Hanukah!" Max said.

"True. But the holidays are where it starts. You forget to show kindness to others then, you can forget about it for the rest of the year! And the year after that. Then one day you wake up dead as a doornail, find out all your friends and family hates you, and you're doomed to roam the earth longing for the joy the holidays can bring." Boris explained.

"Is that what happened to you?" Max asked.

"No it happened to Michael Caine. Of course it happened to me!" Boris said. Then the music began and Max groaned,

"Oy. Not another song."

"In life I was greedy.

Penny-pinching and a meanie.

Now I'm dead and complaining

and it's not entertaining!

I was 'scrooged...over...

yeah scrooged...over...

Because of the life I misused...

I'm officially scrooged!

Then a chorus line of ghostly girls materialized out of nowhere and sang,

"Yeah he's scrooged...totally scrooged!"

"The path you have taken, is the path I've already tread!

But you've still got a chance to change before you re cold and dead!"

I was 'scrooged...over...

yeah scrooged...over...

Because of the life I misused...

I'm officially scrooged!

The chorus girls danced and moaned around the office,

"Yeah he's scrooged...totally scrooged!"

"I cheated my friends, abused my lovers,

took advantage of my workers and mistreated all the others! Sing it girls!" Boris sang joining the girls in a chorus line.

I was 'scrooged...over...

yeah scrooged...over...

Because of the life I misused... I'm officially scrooged!

"Yeah he's scrooged...totally scrooged!"

I was 'scrooged...over...

yeah scrooged...over...

Because of the life I misused...

I'm officially scrooged!"

"Officially, efficiently, undeniably and totally..."sang the girls.

"SCROOGED!" finished Boris as the girls vanished.

"But Boris, you were always such a good man when it came to business." Max said.

"Mankind should have been my business! Goodness, charity and compassion should have been my business!" Boris exclaimed standing up, shaking the chains that wrapped his body. Then he furrowed his brow looking around the office.

"What the F#*& happened to my office?" he asked.

"Oh uh my new partner's wife Ulla redecorated." Max explained.

"Who does she think she is? I paid good money for this s*#&." Boris said. Max picked up a picture of Ulla from the coffee table.

"This is her picture."

"Wow woah woah wee wow wow!" Boris went bugged eyed and drooling.

"Yeah..."

"Glad I ain't that dead. Woof!" Boris said his chains shaking as he waved his hand around.

"What are these terrible chains?" Max asked.

"Oh. Yeah...The chains! I forged these chains in life by my acts of greed. Link by link and yard by yard! Captive bound and double ironed. Do you know the weight and length of the chain you wear yourself?" Boris asked him.

"Speak comfort to me Boris!" Max cried getting on his knees and clutching his hands.

"Comfort? Max remember what I always told you. 'Alle menschen muss zu machen, jeden tug a gentzen kachen." Boris said.

"Who do you have to f*#& to get a break in this town?" Max asked.

"Actually it means 'Every man has to pee or poop'. " Boris said.

"What the hell does that mean?" Max asked.

"How should I know? I don't speak Yiddish. Come out and look out the window here..." Boris said beckoning him over to the terrace. Max got up on shaky feet as Boris pointed out the window and commanded,

"Look!"

Max looked and gasped. There were dozens if not hundreds of moaning ghosts, groaning and longing to help the bag lady on the corner or the bum stumbling down the street, but they could not. They were dressed in fine clothes and chains, weighted down by guilt and despair.

"This is your fate Maxie boy. Which is why I came to warn you. I don't want you to make the mistakes I did. Three spirits will haunt you over the next three nights."

"Haunted? I've already had enough of that." Max said backing up from the terrace.

"Without these visits, you cannot hope to avoid the path I tread." Boris told him solemnly.

"I'd really really rather not!" Max said.

"Expect the first ghost tomorrow night when the bell tolls one." Boris said.

"Can't I meet them all at once and get it over with?" Max asked.

"When the bell tolls one! And not a second later!" Boris said.

"But Boris! I'm a heavy sleeper!" Max protested.

"Bulls*#&! And when the ghost comes, you better be a better host to them than you were to me! Not ever a bagel! Oy..."Boris said heading for the door.

"Boris!" Max cried.

"Farewell Max. You shall never see me again..." Boris said walking through the door. A moment later, he walked back in saying,

"Forgot my safe. Don't forget Maxella! " Boris said. Then he went into his big finish,

"Officially, efficiently, undeniably and totally...SCROOGED!"

And with that, the spirit of Max's mentor vanished into the darkness leaving him once again...Alone in his room.