It was the night before Christmas and all across the bridge, not a creature was stirring, not even at the bottom of the bottomless ridge. A lone man stood on the ledge, with his outdrawn wings shaped like a wedge, where he lifted his fist in anger as he said.

"Merry Christmas to all but I'd rather be dead!"

He dangled his foot over the nearly bottomless chasm but then his back began to spasm.

"Damn my scoliosis! Damn this town! Damn this rhyming! And damn you…uh…clown?"

A clown stood there at the end of the road and the moth-like man saw this sight behold.

"Seriously? What sort of mind frack is this?"

The clown walked steadily closer, slow carnival music trailing as he led, he walked closer still, and the moth-man was filled with dread.

"I am the ghost of Christmas future." He said "Pardon that I'm tardy but I just came from a crazy costume party."

"Dude, why couldn't you change? Don't you know clowns are…creepy as hell?"

"I prefer the term strange. Yes. I know. Don't get so leapy. I'm the ghost of Christmas future. I'm supposed to be creepy."

"Leapy? Is that even a word? Who writes your rhymes? Britney Spears when she's bored?"

"Do you want to see your future or not? I don't really care. I have like about a dozen other people I have to go scare."

"Fine. It's not like I have anything better to do."

"Good. Then…uh…what rhymes well with do?"
"How should I know? I'm not Dr. freakin' Seuss."

"Blue! That kinda rhymes. It's not…perfect or anything but it will do. Then, yes, now I'm going to make you blue."

The world began to ripple as he played his devious magic trick.

"I hope you have some magic Advil. I think I'm going to be sick."

But before it could turn to another time, another man cried from across the bridge.

"No you don't, Christmas future. This man is MINE!"

He stepped into the light. He was covered in snow and his skin was pasty white.

"Clarence! You won't get your damn wings tonight!"

The ghost of Christmas future pulled out a gun as Clarence grinned.

"I can't wait to kill you Christmas future and cleanse this world of all that you sinned."

He took out a sword, bright and shiny, and the moth-man slunk away, as he was saying something whiny.

"Guys, guys. Why are you fighting over me? I honestly have no good redemptive values. Umm…Weeee."

Clarence sheathed his sword as he saw this pathetic sight.

"Because you are the only one I can redeem tonight. I spent the rest of the night getting loaded. You were here and, well, things kind of exploded."

The Ghost of Christmas future put away his gun.

"Oh, screw it, I was going to do it for fun. This guy isn't even worth it. He's so pathetic he makes me feel better about spit."

The Ghost of Christmas Future walked over for a hug and Clarence embraced him like some sort of happy anthropomorphic bug. The bridge was filled with happiness when the church bells rang but it was quickly replaced by the dark sound of a bang. The Ghost of Christmas Future stepped back and saw that he bled.

"Et tu Clarence?" He said as he dropped dead.

Clarence waved his gun to the moth man, still tiny and slim.

"Now get in my alternate reality, before I make you like him!"

"Okay, buddy. I don't want any trouble. I'll get there…like on the double."

"Ugh! I hate it when people rhyme trouble with double! It's lazy and stupid. It's like rhyming killing with spilling or stupid with cupid. It makes me irate. Also rhyming irate with hate. It's the same thing!"

BANG! Clarence's ears began to ring. When he was monologing, he forgot what the Ghost of Christmas Past did bring. The moth-man stood with the pistol still smoking.

"Will you shut up?"

He shot the gun again and Clarence fell.

"I hope you get your wings in hell!"

He tossed the gun in the snow, standing over Clarence's corpse. He gained a new sense of pride at his lack of remorse.

"Holy shit! I did something badass! Damnit. I feel alive! Finally, I know my purpose. I don't need to be this loser anymore. I don't even have to stand on this bridge. I can finally be what I always wanted to be…a SUPERVILLAIN!"

Suddenly a shot of ice froze his legs to the ground.

"What the hell is that sound? Damnit that hurt! I'll kill you fast. I like to be curt."

Mr. Freeze stood over him.

"You are going to do what? Now you can beg."

"Damnit…the gun's frozen to my leg."

And to all a goodnight.