In a flash, Krabs found himself in a dark, dirty room with an uncurtained bed sitting in the with a ragged sheet covering an unmoving figure on the bed. The Dutchman made a flame in his fist to light the room and Mr. Krabs was able to see it was an uncared for body under the blankets.

Mr. Krabs turned to the Dutchman and asked, "Who's the stiff that should be nappin' in the dirt?"

"Who do you think, smart guy?" the Dutchman asked, suavely.

Mr. Krabs made to reach up to the hem of the sheet and reveal the face of the untended corpse. His claw shook as sweat drenched his body…well, more so than usual. But in the end, he couldn't bring himself to do it.

"Scaredy-cat."

"What?" Krabs asked.

"Nothin'." The Dutchman said with a shrug.

"Please, spirit!" he begged as he fell to the floor. "Let's get outta this place already! I can't bear the sight of this horrible torture no longer! SHOW ME SOME COMPASSION FOR THIS MAN'S DEATH!!!"

The Dutchman just stared until he sighed and said, "Very well."

The Dutchman snapped his fingers and, in a flash of lightning, both arrived in the house that belonged to poor ol' SpongeBob CratchitPants. Mr. Krabs peered through a window to see his clerk sitting in front of a lit fireplace with his back turned. The sponge sniffed, then rubbed his eye, though Mr. Krabs couldn't see the reason why.

"Wow, Mr. CratchitPants seemed very depressed." Mr. Krabs noticed until he smiled. "Of course he is. It only makes since that the boy would feel sorry for the guy who got robbed."

"He ain't upset about you!" the Dutchman growled, annoyed.

"Well, who else is there to be upset about?" Krabs asked.

The Dutchman pointed, and Mr. Krabs soon saw why. His clerk had spoken.

"Don't you worry, my little buddy." They heard SpongeBob say as he sat in the same position. "I'll walk over there every Sunday to visit you. I'm sure you'll get a good view of the pond there. I know I'm sad, but I should be…glad, I suppose." It was obvious he was close to bursting out crying again. "At least it's green where you are now."

Then he turned away from the fireplace and broke into violent sobs. Now, Krabs could see that he was clutching a food bowl in his arms.

SpongeBob couldn't bear anymore; he broke into tears and put the bowl over the fireplace hearth and Mr. Krabs could read one word on its front. It chilled him to the core.

"Gary".

"Oh no…" Mr. Krabs said, worriedly, "Spirit...are these the events that COULD happen? Or are they the shadows of what WILL happen?"

"I'm afraid that's none of yer beeswax." The Dutchman said, folding his arms, "It's in my contract."

"But I've learned so much, gained so much, can't you just take me home?" Krabs pleaded, getting on his knees (if he had any).

The Dutchman snapped his fingers, the two reappearing in a graveyard just outside the gloomy church where it had all begun. Krabs looked around, then saw he was at the foot of a tombstone covered in snow.

"This is where our tale comes to a close." The Dutchman said, almost sadistically, "This here's as cheerful as you can get."

"Do I dare...?" Mr. Krabs asked, reaching out a claw for the tombstone, "Is the name of this feller the thing that has caused so much pleasure in seeing him pass?"

"You best bet it is." The Dutchman called, and he was right.

Mr. Krabs gently brushed the snow away from the tombstone. The two words he saw on it were exactly as he had feared.

"Ebenezer Krabs".

Krabs couldn't take anymore. "No...no..." he whirled to the Dutchman and grabbed the hem of his robe. "I'll live for Christmas: past, present, future, EVERYTHING. Just spare me..." he sobbed, "SPARE ME!!! SPARE ME SPARE ME SPARE MEEEE!!!"

--

In the real world, Eugene Krabs woke with a start, shouting "SPARE ME" at the top of his lungs.

Yeah, short chapter, I know. But it's good and that's all that matters.