Author's note: Wow! I don't think any of my stories has ever gotten such an overwhelming positive response in the first 24 hours after it launches! SB Xmas Carol will definitely continue as planned.

This chapter is one of my favorites…and it was also one of the hardest because I love this scene in the original Christmas Carol (and the Muppets' rendition) so much that I didn't think this could live up to those standards. But it turned out alright…albeit a little shorter than all the other chapters.

Stephen Hillenburg and Nickelodeon own SpongeBob…Charles Dickens owns Christmas Carol. I just slapped the two together. (Apparently from my reviews, a lot of people have thought of doing it…and I'm surprised that it hasn't happened on the show by now.) That said, on with Chapter 2.

Chapter 2—Cruel Irony

The remaining afternoon passed rather uneventfully. Mr. Krabs sat alone at the register, keeping himself entertained by his meager profits. Then, when closing time finally rolled around, he locked up the Krusty Krab and posted a sign in the front, reading "Closed for the Holidays." He walked away, muttering something about 'getting robbed every 25th of December.'

All the lights were off when he reached his anchor abode. Inside, he turned on the lights to find the place empty. "Pearl? Pearl?" he called, receiving no answer. A few more steps into the house, and he found a note from Pearl.

It read: Gone out with friends who actually understand me! Goodbye! Pearl.

P.S.—Have a very merry Christmas. XP

"Argh. Christmas." Mr. Krabs shook his head. "Oh, well. Time for a good, hot bath." With that he proceeded to his bathroom, dismissing all the fuss and bother that was the Christmas season. …Little did he know he was in for a lesson about the Christmas spirit that he wouldn't soon forget.

In the bathroom, he retrieved his bathrobe and changed into it behind a frilly pink curtain. Then he walked over to his round, Jacuzzi-style bathtub, complete with candelabras all aglow. Mr. Krabs filled the tub with dollar bills and stepped in contentedly. "Ahh…" he sighed. "Wait, where's me back scrubber?" He looked around and located his back scrubber—a stick with a melon ball on the end—and proceeded to scrub his back, relaxing in the midst of his riches and candlelight. "Ahh, that's more like it."

Suddenly, a faint creaking and groaning sound came from downstairs. "Huh!" Mr. Krabs gasped, but was answered only by silence. He shrugged it off and continued to scrub himself.

The eerie groaning resumed, accompanied by the rattling of chains.

"What's that!" Mr. Krabs started to get alarmed. The noises gradually got louder…closer… "Who's there!" he called. At last the bathroom door flew open, extinguishing the candles, and a strange murky mist began to seep into the room. In a frenzy, Mr. Krabs sat straight up and struggled into the bathrobe left at the foot of the tub. He got it on, but didn't tie it up. "Don't come any closer! Whoever you are! I'm…I'm armed!" he whimpered, wielding his back scrubber.

In the doorway, an undistinguishable shadowy figure surrounded by an ambient grey haze appeared. "Ughh…" the shadowy figure moaned.

Mr. Krabs's eyes expanded like balloons about to burst. "AAHHHH! POLTERGEIST!" He folded his claws to plead for his petty life. "Please don't hurt me, Spirit from Beyond the Grave! I'll give you anything you want!" He looked around with uncertainty amidst all the money in his tub. "Uh…You like me back scrubber?" He held it up, flinching.

The shadowy figure stepped forward. "I'm not going to hurt you, Mr. Krabs," he said in a recognizably dull and nasal voice. "But I have to admit, even in death I never thought I'd live to see a more pathetic sight of you." He picked up a $100 bill in the tub. "Are these all hundreds?" He shook his head in disgust.

Mr. Krabs opened his tightly-shut eyes. "Eh?" He inspected the ghost. "You sound familiar. Do I know you?"

"You should. I spent the more miserable half of my life working for you." The ghost became recognizable, and Mr. Krabs finally saw the transparent apparition of Squidward, carrying lots of chains and looking very haggard and exhausted. "I'm your former employee, Squidward."

"Squidward? Really?" Mr. Krabs reached over to touch Squidward's shoulder, as if to verify that the ghost was real.

Squidward moved away from Mr. Krabs's hand "Yes. What's left of me, anyway."

Mr. Krabs blinked, then immediately started laughing. "Ha, ha! Oh, I get it! I'm hallucinating, right? Heheh, I guess my lunch didn't agree with my stomach. Yesiree, it looks like that fruit salad has come back to haunt me! Ha, ha!"

Squidward narrowed his gray, opaque eyes in annoyance. "If you were having a fruit-induced hallucination, believe me…it would be infinitely much easier on the both of us." He indicated Mr. Krabs's untied bathrobe. "Now puh-lease, cover your shame; I didn't drag 50 lbs. of solid chains up a flight of stairs to see that."

"Oh, er…" Mr. Krabs fumbled with the robe ties self-consciously. "So, uh…if it's really you, Squidward, then why are you dragging around 50 lbs. of chains?"

"Funny you should ask," Squidward began. "In life, I had just three great things to live for: me, myself and I. I pushed everyone away who ever cared about me…and the only thing I ever cared about was myself." He held one of the chains tightly between his hands. "Little did I know that there were endless consequences for my vanity. These chains represent every single self-interested move I ever made…and now I have to carry them until the end of time." As he spoke, one of the links he held tightly between his hands randomly broke. He looked surprised for a moment, and then hesitantly stuffed the broken chain behind him and out of sight.

Mr. Krabs, faking sympathy, picked up another of the chains with a clarinet on the end of it. "Awww, gee. I'm really sorry to hear that. …I guess this is what they call a…cruel irony!" He laughed at his own joke. "Hahaha! Get it? Iron-y! Haha!"

Squidward was getting visibly more annoyed. "Oh, sure. Go ahead and laugh, Mr. Krabs. But that's just what I came to warn you about. If you think this is a cruel irony, you should see the chains that are being made for you."

That made the old crab stop laughing instantly. "What? Me! But why!"

"You've gotten worse, Mr. Krabs. Since my spirit can never rest in peace, I continue to wander in this world totally alone. Now, this is the first and only time you'll be able to see me, but I've been watching you these past few months…and you've gotten worse," Squidward explained. "You cheat on your taxes; you set up that ridiculous "tip jar" at my expense; and even though I hate to admit it, the way you've treated SpongeBob—your only faithful worker—has been grossly unfair."

"But…you of all people would understand, it's just business. When business gets tough, a good businessman gets tougher, right?" Krabs protested.

"Are you really that blind? You are a miserly shell of a man, a skinflinted old cheapskate, and there is nothing more selfish than that."

"Why is everyone always saying that? There's nothing wrong with knowing the value of a dollar!"

"Look at yourself. You're in a tub of dollars," Squidward replied flatly. "But this is how I'm fated to spend forever. My back has been agonizing me since Week One. I wouldn't wish this on anybody…not even you."

Krabs took the situation far more seriously at this point. "No, no! This can't be happening! You gotta help me, Squidward! Please, I've never asked you for anything before!" he begged, pathetically clutching two fistfuls of money to himself and eyes tearing up.

"There's nothing I can do, Mr. Krabs, but fortunately for you there are three other ghosts who can."

"Three other ghosts?"

"They'll be coming to see you before the night is through. I suggest you take their advice, unless of course you want to share my cruel and ironic fate."

Mr. Krabs just made weepy noises.

"I thought not." Squidward held up a watch on the end of another chain. "Well, it's been a joy talking to you again, but I must going now. I have to be back to my eternity in limbo by midnight. Good-bye." He started to painfully drag all his chains around and out the door. "Oh, yeah; one more thing," he added, looking back. "The first ghost will be arriving at 1 AM, sharp." He pointed at Mr. Krabs's bathrobe. "You might consider making yourself decent."

The crab looked down at himself. "But I—" His voice trailed off as he looked up and saw that the ghost of Squidward had vanished from sight…and all the lights had mysteriously returned. "Argh. I must be working too hard. Guess I just need a good night's sleep."

Author's note: Sonic Hero, you predicted that Squidward would be the Past Ghost…and I guess you were close. He is my favorite character on the show, but I could think of no one more deserving of the infamous role of Jacob Marley. It just had to be Squid. Sorry. I hope the character who does play the Past Ghost won't disappoint you.

Everyone else, hope you enjoyed this chapter. The next one will be up as soon as I get a chance to transfer it to prose from script form…which has dubbed a no-no. Ta.