Mr. Krabs spat out the mouthwash he had been swishing, then looked at his teeth. Pearly as ever.

"Ah, this Christmas is gonna make this ol' crab's wallet nice and fat." Mr. Krabs said, giddily, "Time to call it a night, then…"

Mr. Krabs hopped into bed, pulled up the covers, then hummed himself to sleep at the tune of "Jingle Bells".

That is…until he suddenly wound up in dreamland…and a dream that would be out of this world.

(Insert Dream Wave here...)

Bikini Bottom: 1843

French Narrator: Jacob Squidley was dead: dead as a doornail. I have to tell you this so that nothing will seem out of place…well, it probably will anyway. Welcome to Spongebob's Christmas Coral.

It was a snowy Christmas Eve in nineteenth-century Bikini Bottom, but the town was unlike it was every other day. At the Krusty Krab, which seemed like something in a classic Dickens novel.

SpongeBob, who was dressed in an old green jacket and long brown pants, was throwing a lit match under a frying pan to try and make a small fire, but much to his disappointment, he only got a tiny flicker.

SpongeBob ran over and grabbed another piece of coal, but before he could do anything, he heard a familiar voice say, "Mr. CratchitPants!"

SpongeBob yelped and slowly turned his head to see Mr. Krabs dressed in a blue coat, scarf, and top hat. "Yes…Mr. Ebenezer Krabs?" He asked nervously.

"Just what do you think you're doin', lad?"

SpongeBob answered with a smile, "Just making a bigger fire so the patties will cook faster."

Mr. Krabs knocked the coal out of SpongeBob's hand with his cane. "Ye already used two coals yesterday. That stuff doesn't come cheap you know."

"But Mr. Krabs, I just want to keep warm..." Mr. CratchitPants reasoned.

"It hasn't been warm since Jacob Squidley was keelhauled, and it ain't gonna be warm come summertime." Krabs stated, scribbling away at a piece of parchment, his expression unwavering from flat.

Whilst Mr. Krabs scribbled away, the door opened and, for a while, SpongeBob didn't know who entered…until he looked down. It was small, shaped like a green jellybean, and had a single eye. He, too, was clad in an attire suitable for a nineteenth-century man. It was Fred Plankton, Ebenezer Krabs' nephew...though it was kinda hard to believe they were related.

"Hey, ol' Uncle Krabs. Merry Christmas!" Plankton greeted.

Krabs gave Plankton a shifty look, then said the all-too-traditional Scrooge line...

"Christmas? Bah! Humbug!" The crustacean then proceeded to continue to his scrawling.

"Whaddya mean 'humbug'?" Plankton asked, his tone hinting a demand.

"Uh, Mr. Plankton? Humbug is what one says when they have no Christmas Spirit." CratchitPants filled in.

"Oh." Plankton said, then got to business, "Tell me you didn't mean to say that, Uncle Krabs."

"Every syllable of it." Krabs grunted.

"But Uncle Krabs, Christmas is a time for everyone." Plankton explained.

"You got that right, Fred." Krabs replied, "A time for everyone to be payin' bills! What's the point of livin' when you can't be rich? If everyone weren't busy celebratin' Christmas, they'd be more like me."

"You can't be serious about that." Plankton said with a weak smile. "Christmas isn't all about the money. It's a time to spend with people who care about you."

"Well said, Fred." CratchitPants added with a smile which earned him a glare from Krabs that caused the sponge to run his finger across his lips, gesturing he would zip it.

"Anyway, anyone who believes in the term 'Merry Christmas' should be boiled in his own pudding." At Krabs' statement, SpongeBob looked a little frightened, "And buried with a stake of holly through his heart!" This caused the sponge to pale a little.

"Well, there's no pleasing you, is there?" Plankton asked, "But at least lemme give somethin' to ya. I've been keeping it in my secret compartment..." Plankton reached into his pocket, then pulled out a Christmas Wreath that was FAR larger than his own body. "Ta-da!"

Mr. CratchitPants looked ready to accept the gift, but Ebenezer Krabs beat him there. He picked Plankton up by the antennae and brought him to eye level.

"I said 'BAH! HUMBUG'!" Krabs growled, then made for the door.

"HEY! YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME! I'M YOUR NEPHEW!!!" Plankton argued, then Mr. Krabs opened the door and flicked him out. "I ALSO WENT TO COLLEGE!" Plankton went flying out the door to land in another building with a resounding CRASH. "Ouch."

SpongeBob watched for a while, then asked, "Mr. Krabs, can I have a raise?"

"No." Krabs said, quickly, before returning to his work.

"Okay!" SpongeBob said with a smile and a wave. "I'll just…get back to work, sir."

Before Mr. Krabs could continue working for a minute, there was another knock at the door and he proceeded to answer it. It was Mermaid Man and Barnacle boy dressed in winter clothing and, like their real-world selves, holding a tin cup.

"What do you old geezers want?" Mr. Krabs bitterly asked.

"You're one to talk." Barnacle Boy quipped.

"We're collecting poor for the money." Mermaid Man answered, holding out a tin cup.

"That's money for the POOR, you old coot!" Barnacle Boy grumbled. The "young" ward sighed, then asked in the kindest voice he could, "So care to spare some coins and make our job easier?"

"Why in the halibut should I be given' money to the poor?" Mr. Krabs asked angrily. "I earned that money to make me rich, not to give away to any poor."

Mermaid Man and Barnacle Boy just stared in oddly, though Mermaid Man's was probably just staring off into space. "But…" Barnacle Boy tried to say.

But Mr. Krabs just grabbed the wreath Plankton gave him and tossed it at them. "Give this to the poor and get out of me sight, you moochers!"

SpongeBob winced when the door was slammed and he muttered, "I think he overdid it…"

"You say something, boy?"

"Nothing!" SpongeBob quickly responded.

But Mr. Krabs just answered, "One more crack outta you and I'll deduct your pay."

Outside, Mermaid Man had the wreath stuck on his head like a hat. He looked up into and smiled in a senile kind of way. "Ooh, is this the new fashion trend?"

Barnacle Boy could only sigh as he and the old man walked off for the next house. Things weren't going as easily as he had hoped.

Now, ON WITH THE GOOD STUFF!