Disclaimer:A Christmas Carol is a Charles Dicken's story. And speaking of Christmas, do you think they would give me TMNT for a little while as a gift? No? Aw...(:(
A/N: For the record, I'd just like to say that I'm touch (mostly in the head) but the Christmas spirit and am totally addicted to 'A Christmas Carol' with Patrick Stewart. (Is there some kind of A.A. for that?) Anyway, this interpretation had been nipping me for a while, wanting to get out. Hope you like it.
The Warning
Raphael, dressed in his human street clothes, sat shivering on a park bench that was covered in snow. "Christmas is nothin' more den a humbug." He commented stiffly.
Michelangelo, dressed in his own human street clothes, came waddling over to where his brother sat. His arms were weighted down with bags full of gifts he had bought. "A humbug?" He questioned. "How could you say such a thing?"
"Because it is." Raphael snapped. "All this rustlin' and bustlin' about, just ta buy gifts fer people."
"That's the beauty of Christmas." Michelangelo stated while he dropped what he carried. He sat down next to his brother with a tried groan.
"Will ya just listen ta yerself?" Raphael asked. "Ya spent all day on yer feet, tirin' yerself out, and fer what?"
"To see the happy faces of all the people who will open my gifts." Michelangelo answered happily. "What more could a person ask for?"
"Bah." Raphael waved a hand at his youngest brother.
"That's no way to keep a Christmas spirit." Michelangelo told his older brother sternly.
"Well, ya keep Christmas yer way and I'll keep it mine." Raphael replied coldly.
"But that's the point Raphie, you don't keep Christmas anymore." Michelangelo said with concern. "For as long as I've know, you've developed some kind of attitude about it."
"Den just leave me alone." Raphael snapped. "As far as I'm concern, a law should be passed dat anyone who walks around with a 'Merry Christmas' upon der lips should be drowned in their own chocolate puddin' and buried with stake of holy in der hearts."
"Whoa." Michelangelo gasped. "That's, like, Ebenezer Scrooge harsh man."
"Look, I don't see how it's worth wadin' through all dese humans." Raphael retorted. "All dese rude humans dat push and shove. Dey pay no mind as ta where dey're goin'. Dey just do whatever dey want in order ta get some piece of junk dat's on sale fer someone on der list, no matter whether dat would person would like or not."
"Alright, so Christmas shopping doesn't bring out the best in people." Michelangelo admitted. "So Christmas brings no money or profit, but that's not what it's all about." The young turtle's eyes grew ridiculously wide. "It is a kind and giving time. A time for men and women alike to think of others before themselves. It is also a time to think of 'He' who's birth is the reason for such a holy day." Mike turned to look at his brother with a giant grin on his face. "To summarize, Christmas had done me good in the past and will do me good in the future. And so I say to you my brother, a very Merry Christmas!"
"Hear, hear Mikey." Leonardo said as he came over to the park bench. He too was dressed up in his street clothes. "That was very well rehearsed." There were many thin handles in his hands connecting to the many bags he had stuff full of gifts.
"Why thank you Leo." Michelangelo said as he got off the bench. He put a hand in front of him and a hand in back of him, to give a low bow.
"Yuck." Raphael put a finger in his mouth and made a gagging sound. "He sounds like a Christmas special."
Donatello commented from behind them all. "I think that was the point Raphie." Dressed in his human clothes, the young turtle was hunch forward due to the weight from his bag being full of gifts he had just bought.
"Ya all make me sick." Raphael snorted as he got up from the bench. He shoved his hands into his pockets and started to walk away.
"Where are you going Raph?" Donatello asked.
"Home." Raphael replied coldly.
"But you promised April that you would help decorate her place for the party tomorrow." Leonardo reminded.
Raphael whipped around to give Leo a glare. "I didn't volunteer for nothin'." The young turtle snapped. "Ya volunteered fer me."
"Ah come on Raphie." Michelangelo semi whined. "Tomorrow is Christmas. Dontchya wanna party?"
"No." Raphael answered in a mocked, high-pitched voice. "And stop callin' me Raphie. I hate dat name."
"Since when?" Michelangelo asked.
"Ever." Raphael growled. "Now I'm outta here." The young turtle turned his back to his brothers and walked away.
"Man, is Raph ever going to lighten up?" Michelangelo asked.
"He'll get over what is bother him." Donatello said in his usual 'know-it-all' voice. "We all know he gets this way at this time of year. We just have to wait it out."
"Yeah, but this attitude of his is really started to get bothersome." Leonardo commented. "I wish that he could get in the Christmas spirit before the day is almost done."
"Then Raph wouldn't be Raph, would he?" Donatello asked.
"I suppose not." Leonardo replied. "Come on turtles, we have an apartment to decorate."
Meanwhile…
As Raphael walked down the streets, he snorted out small puffs of steam. After a bit, he hears the pitter-patter of little feet behind him. For a while he tries to ignore the young footstep that were following until he could take it no more. He stopped walking and turns around to find himself looking down at a handful of children.
The children look up at him with bright eyes, all of different hues. In their little hands were paper booklets filled with Christmas carols. One boy blows a note on his harmonic and the children hum in tune with the sound. When that was over, the children started to sing 'Come All Ye Faithful'.
Unamused with what was going on before him, Raphael turns his back on the children to walk away. Before he had a chance to get very far, he feels the back of his pant leg being tug. Heaving a deep sigh, the young turtle turns around to see a very girl with golden blonde pigtails looking up at him with deep blue eyes.
"We sang you a song." The little girl said while holding out a hand. "Aren't chya gonna give us something for it? We're collecting money and toys and food for people less fortunate then us."
"Is dat so." Raphael said in mockingly sweet voice. "Den will dis do?" He reached deep into his pocket, then let out a angry roar at all the children. Frightened, they children fell head over heels in their attempts to run away. Raph laughed as he watched the children, until he felt angry eyes fall upon him. "What are ya all lookin' at?" The young turtle growled. Not wishing to tangle with him, all looking turned to continue about their business.
Feeling quite stratified with himself, Raphael continued down the street. A couple blocks later he was stopped by a couple of men dressed in old fashion clothes. One man wore a tall black hat, a black overcoat, black pants, and black dress shoes. The other man was wearing a brown bolder, dark gray dress jacket with tails, light gray pants, and dark brown boots. The man in the tall hat held a moneybox in his hands. The man in the bolder hat held a book and pencil.
"What do ya want?" Raphael asked the two men coldly.
"Hello." The man in the tall hat said, with an English accent. "We're the Charity booth for the Dickens Fair and we're collecting donations for the poor." He held up the moneybox he carried; there was a slot cut for money to go into.
"So tell me, m'lord, how much can we put you don't for?" The man in the bolder hat asked in a cockney accent. Then he dabbed the end of his pencil on the tip of his tongue before putting on to the pad of paper.
"Nuthin'." Raphael replied rudely.
"Ah, I see." The man in the bolder hat said with a nod. "M'lord wishes to remain anonymous. Such a modest gentleman he is."
"That he is." The man in the tall hat agreed. "So tell me, m'lord, how much can we put you down for?"
"I told ya, nuthin'." Raphael answered with a snarl in his voice. "And stop callin' me, 'm'lord'. Ya sound ridiculous."
"We're just trying to keep in character." The man in the tall hat said in a cool tone. "But seriously, you do not wish to give to the poor?" He asked in a bewildered tone.
"Dat's right." Raphael replied. "I'm barely gonna spend money on people I do like, why should I waste any on people I don't?"
"But sir, how can you turn up your nose at the poor in this time of year?" The man in the bolder hat asked. "Christmas is the time of giving."
"Are der no prisons?" Raphael asked.
"I suppose that there are plenty of prisons." The man in the tall hat answered.
"Are der not shelters?" Raphael questioned.
Shock at the question, the man in the bolder hat straightened up. "There are, but…"
"Good." Raphael said with a snort. "Den da poor is taken care of."
"What a way to live!" The man in the tall hat exclaimed. "The poor would rather die than to resort to thievery and shelters."
"Den let dem die." Raphael snapped. "Da quicker, da better to decrease da surplus of da population."
Both men were shocked with what Raph had just said. "Sir, you can't be serious." The man in the bolder hat replied angrily.
"Well at da moment, I am." Raphael stated angrily, while pushing passed the two men. As he walked away, he could hear the two men talk about him.
"What a jerk." One said.
"Well, you have to expect an Ebenezer Scrooge every once and while." The other man replied. "It comes with the territory."
Ignoring what the two men said, Raphael continued to make his way home. Eventually the young turtle makes it to the corner of Eastman and Laird, the place where the garage that was over their home was. He entered the garage, rides the elevator down to the sewers, and walks into the lair.
Master Splinter was just coming out of his room as Raph was just entering. "I'm surprise to see you home at this time, my son." The elder rat said with surprise. "I thought you'd be up at Ms. O'Neil's place, decorating for the party."
"I didn't feel like decoratin' tanite." Raphael replied while he took off his stuff.
"I see." Master Splinter said with a nod of his head. "Tell me, my son, what bothers you at this time of year?"
"It's nuthin' sensei." Raphael answered. "I guess ya can say dat I'm in dat minority area dat finds dis time of year depressin'."
"Perhaps." Master Splinter walked over to a red wagon that had a cardboard box labeled 'Decorations'. "Well, I promised you brother and Ms. O'Neil that I would bring these by. Maybe you would like to walk with me?"
"Nah." Raphael waved a hand. "I just wanna sit around here and ferget about what's goin' on out der."
"As you wish my son." Master Splinter said with a deep sigh. "But I do wish you would get into the spirit of things."
"I'll think about it." Raphael replied while heading for the kitchen.
"Alright then." Master Splinter gave another sigh while putting on a tan trench coat and fedora. "But if you change your mind, you'll know where we all are." Just before he headed out with the red wagon, he stopped. "I do hope you'll at least consider coming to the party tomorrow." With that, the elder rat went into the elevator with the wagon.
Moments after his master had left, Raphael came out of the kitchen with his arms full of snack food and soda. The young turtle walked over to the T.V. area and plopped down onto the couch. While flipping through stations on the main screen, Raph smelt the dips he was going to use for his chips. He was trying to figure out if it was still good enough to eat, because he didn't know how long it had been in the fridge. Eventually he determined that it was ok to eat, but was quite miffed at the fact that he couldn't find anything to watch. All 200 stations show some sort of Christmas special, to which Raph was on in no mood to see. So while eating his snacks with the expired dip, the young turtle went onto play 'Splinter Cell' on X-box live.
Sadly, that only kept him occupied for a couple hours. Many of the people he was playing with wanted to quit early so they could go to bed and get up for parties they were invited to. Feeling that it was not fun to play by himself, Raphael decided he would go back to trying to watch T.V again. When the young turtle bent over to turn off the X-box, a face tried to push its way through the green x-cross top.
Freaked, Raphael fell onto his rear. "What da shell!" Slowly, carefully, he crawled back towards the X-box and looked at the top of it again. "Dat's strange." The young turtle muttered to himself, because now the top of the X-box looked how is was suppose to.
Thinking that he was tired, Raphael decided that he was going to call it a night and go to bed. Maybe, if he were lucky, he could sleep through Christmas.
Not bothering to clean up his mess, the young turtle made his way to the stairs so he could climb up them and go into his room. When he got to the stairs, horse hooves hitting cements were heard coming at him. Raphael looked up to see a black carriage being pulled by a team of black horses. In the driver's seat was a man in a black trench coat, with black tall hat, black gloves on his hands, and a dark gray scarf wrapped around the lower part of his face.
The sight of the carriage coming at him frightened Raphael. He couldn't think of what else to do, but plaster himself up against the wall in an attempt to avoid being hit. Just as the noses of the black horses passed the last step, the whole thing became transparent and goes right through the young turtle.
"What…what is goin' on?" Raphael questioned when he saw the carriage, driver, and horses disappear into thin air. The young turtle gave his head a shake. "Must be indigestion." He put the side of his fist to his chest and let out a disgusting belch before going up the stairs.
When Raphael got to his room, he removed all his stuff and hung up his Sais. Then he sat down on his hammock bed and let out a loud yawn. He was about to lie down, when he heard the sound of chains rattling and dragging echo throughout the lair.
At first, the young turtle didn't want to know what was making that noise. After a few seconds he couldn't help letting his curiosity get the best of him. So cautiously, Raphael stuck his head out of his room. But the noise stopped as soon as he left the room. Still the young turtle looked around just in case. Shaking his head, the young turtle turned around to go back into his room.
That's when he came face to face with some guy. "Who are you?" Raphael ordered.
"Ask me who I was." The guy replied.
"Ok…who were ya?" Raphael asked.
"In life I was yer friend." The guy replied with a groan. "My name was Casey Jones."
"Casey?" Raphael question.
"Uh…yeah." Casey replied.
"What gives man?" Raphael asked angrily. "What da shell ya doin' walkin' around draggin' and rattlin' chains?"
"Dude, I'm dead." Casey told his turtle friend. "Dead as a doornail."
"What?" Raphael answered flatly. "Ya lost me."
Casey gave Raph smack upside the head. "Look at me." The young man was transparent, wrapped in chains, and a white handkerchief was tied around his head. Locking the chains together were hockey sticks, golf clubs, and baseball bats. Weighting on the ends were golf bags.
"Impossible." Raphael said in disbelief. "I refuse to believe dat yer dead."
"Den explain how I stand before ya, genius." Casey retorted.
"A few stale chips, some bad dip." Raphael answered.
"A few stale chips!" Casey bellowed. "Some bad dip?" He untied the handkerchief that was round his head. "Does this look like bad dip ta ya?" The young man asked rhetorically as his mouth dropped with the moan he let out.
The force of the moan made Raphael fall back and almost off the second story of the lair. Luckily the young turtle was able to stop himself from falling. "So what happen?" He asked the ghost. "How did ya die?"
"Dats not important." Casey replied. "What's important is what I came ta do fer ya."
"What do you mean?"
"It is required of every man dat da spirit within him walks abroad his fellow man, ta travel far and wide. If dat spirit does not go forth in life, he is condemned ta do it in death. I am here to save ya from a fate dat is worse den death itself." Casey held his chain out for Raph to see. "I am doomed ta wander through the world and witness what I cannot share…might have shared on Earth and turned it into happiness."
"O…k." Raphael said with a raised an eyebrow. "But why come to me?"
"Dude, didn't ya just hear what I said?" Casey held up his chains. "Ya see these things I wear? Dis isda chain I forged in life." He explained. "I made it link by link and yard by yard. It is a bulky chain." He rattled them for his friend to hear. "But do ya know of da chain ya labored on and now bear? It is twice as long, weightin' twice as much."
Raphael looked around himself to see no chain. "Personally, I always thought you were off ya rocker when ya were alive. Now I think yer even further in death." Raphael told his former living friend. "Tell me, Case, why don't ya speak comfort ta me?"
"I can't stay. I can't rest. Dude, I can't even loiter anywhere." Casey told his friend. "Oh, never to be able to make amends for missed opportunities. The torture of remorse."
"But dude, ya did so much fer da city." Raphael pointed out. "Don't dat count fer something. After all, ya made it yer business ta help people out."
"Mankind was my business.' Casey groaned. "The common good was my business." The way the young man was going, Raph was think he was being overly dramatic. "Instead of tryin' to destroy the lives of my enemies, I should have embraced them. Instead of turnin' my back on the welfare of others, I should have helped them. Now…" Casey looked at his friend with a halfhearted smile. "Now I have been given a chance ta save you from the same fate I suffer from. In order ta save you from dis fate, I must get ya ta understand da meanin' of Christmas. I must get ya ta embrace it in your soul and in your heart."
"Dude, no offense, but you're startin' ta sound as sappy as Mikey." Raphael commented.
"Overda course of three days, three spirits will visit you." Casey said with a stern look on his face.
"Can't ya just have dem come all at once and get things over with?" Raphael asked.
"Expect da first spirit at da stroke of one tamorrow." Casey explained. "Da next one will come da next night, Christmas Day, at the same time. And da third one will be the day after, also at da same time. Listen ta what dey say and learn what dey teach ya, or ya'll share da same fate as me."
"Dis sound nice and all, but I think I'll pass." Raphael said as he went to walk around his friend.
"Dude, ya don't seem ta understand." Casey growled. "We spirits are stuck in a world where we wanna do sumpthin' fer people, but can't. Dis is, like, one chance in a lifetime. I suggest ya take it before ya end up becomin' sumpthin' ya regret."
"It all sounds stupid." Raphael retorted. "And if ya think dat I'm gonna waste my time…"
"Just do it!" Casey bellowed.
The force of the scream once again almost pushed the young turtles off second floor. "Alright, alright. I'll do it."
"Good." Casey said with a nod. "Looked ta see no more, because I can't come around and remember what has passed between us." The dead man walked off the edge of the second story and floated to the main entrance of the lair. "Learn ta keep Christmas in yer heart." Then he disappeared through the door.
"Ok…dat was definitely weird." Raphael commented. "I can't believe dat Casey is dead." He went back into his room and snatched up his Shell-Cell. First he tried dialing up Casey's cell, but he got no answer. "Hmmmm…" Next he dialed up his elder brother.
"Hello." Leonardo answered quietly.
"Dude, Leo, yer are not gonna believe dis." Raphael spoke anxiously. "But I was just visited by Casey and he was all decked out like a ghost and stuff. Den he tells me dat I should be on da look out fer three spirits ta come visit me and teach me about keepin' Christmas and stuff."
"Raph! That is not funny." Leonardo snapped.
"What are ya saying?" Raphael asked.
"You know as well as I do that Casey is dead." Leonardo told his brother.
"What?" Raphael was confused.
"He died this day a year ago." Leonardo answered.
"No." Raphael breathed. "No, ya just pullin' my leg. Payin' me back fer bein' all grouch about Christmas. Der is no way dat Case is dead."
"Well he is." Leonardo stated sternly. "And you know very well that I wouldn't joke about something like that."
"Ok…but dat still don't explain why he suddenly came up in da lair, pullin' a Christmas Carol on me."
"Well…if he really did appear before like you say, then maybe you should listen." Leonardo told him. "But I think you're just tired."
"Yeah. Maybe…maybe yer right." Raphael replied. "I mean, how else would I ferget dat my best human friend is dead." He hung up the cell and climbed into his hammock bed.
A/N: Oh my, Casey's dead. I bet you're asking how or why he died. Well, you're just going to have to wait and see. :b