Chapter 3 – "Bah! Humbug!"
JD peeped into his dark mailbox, and hollered, "Helloooooo in there…" Its emptiness echoed his call back to him. "Rats," he frowned. "Nobody sent me a Christmas card today." Slamming the mailbox shut, JD pocketed his hands and slumped through backstage. "It almost makes me wish there wasn't a holiday season. I know nobody likes me, so why do we need a holiday season to emphasize it?" Spotting the pretty blonde Kara Kent, he asked suavely, "How's about some pity sex, Kara?" She slapped him so hard that his head spun around – one-eighty. "I'll take that as a 'no'," JD moaned before collapsing to the ground in a dead heap, dying oh-so painfully.
Luckily for him, it all only went down in his mind.
---
Meanwhile, on stage, House came to the front door of a little shop that was his business. A little sign hung over the door that read COX AND HOUSE – PROFFESIONAL MONEY LENDERS. "House owns a commerce that he used to share with his old friend named Jacob Cox," Daffy narrated. "Cox was just as greedy and selfish as House, if not more. He had passed away seven years ago on Christmas Eve and given House all his shares of the company."
House took off his hat; almost as if pay tribute to his old business partner, but all he did was use it to brush away the snow blocking his own name. Smiling contently, he entered his shop. It was unbearably cold outside, what with the snow; but the shop's insides weren't much better. Sitting and frozen to the bones on a tiny wooden stool behind a desk with many papers was a large muscular man with a huge jaw, long hair and wearing a purple tunic. Shivering and rubbing his arms, he greeted, "G-good morning, m-mister House."
"It's only a good morning when it's a busy morning, Kronk," House stated. Then, he frowned. He held up his hand and detected something different. "It's warm in here. Have you been going through my coal?!"
"Er, sorry, sir," Kronk apologized, holding up a little bottle of ink with a quill in it – by the quill. "I was just trying to thaw the ink."
"Bah!" he sneered, pointing his cane right into his employee's nose. "Then thaw it with your own breath! If you as so much as LOOK at my coal stack again, I'll have your job! Now get back to work!"
Squeaking, Kronk picked up another quill and quickly started scribbling. Looking up anxiously, he said, "Er, speaking of work, I was thinking that you could allow me to have…a half-day off from work tomorrow?"
House placed his jacket and hat on a coat rack, and growled, "Because of Christmas, am I right?" He nodded feebly. "Hmm…." He eyed Kronk, whom was holding his hands together hopefully and batting massive eyelashes he suddenly developed. "Very well," Kronk looked like he could skip, "but I'll be docking a half-day's worth of your pay!"
Kronk's hopeful expression was quickly wiped from his face. "I guess that's better than nothing."
"What a jer-jer-jer, what a grouch," Porky said.
Suddenly, bursting through the door with open arms, Rika shouted, "Merry Christmas!"
"And a Merry Christmas to you, Miss Rika," Kronk smiled warmly, shaking her hand.
"'Merry Christmas'?" House repeated doubtingly. "Bah! Humbug!"
"Please, allow me to take your coat," Kronk said, helping Rika take her outer layer off.
She immediately shuddered, taking her coat back. "I think I'll keep it on, actually." Spotting House, she cheerfully declared, "Merry Christmas, Uncle House!"
"What's so 'merry' about it?" he scowled. "As far as I'm concerned, Christmas is just another day in the year! Be it New Year's, the Fourth of July, or Arbor Day!"
"'Arbor Day'?" Rika and Kronk repeated dubiously.
"But, Uncle," she protested, "Christmas is about a time of loving, cheer, giving, and a time to be with one's family! I say, 'Yay, Christmas!'"
Kronk applauded her, but ceased right away when he saw House cast a cold glower at him. "What are you even doing here, Rika?" House asked.
"Well, I was hoping that you could share Christmas Dinner with Kuro and me at our home," Rika explained and smiled. "So, think you can make it?"
"Christmas Dinner?" he sneered. "What a load of crock." Rika sighed dejectedly. The door once again opened, and standing at the door were two men. One was Wilson-in-character and a black man dressed stylishly with a satchel and a towel over his arm. "And who might you be?"
"Good day, everyone," Wilson greeted. "My name is Wilson and my associate here is Ford Prefect. We are collecting some slight provision for the poor and destitute."
"Perhaps you could make a donation?" Ford asked.
"Oh, sure!" Rika nodded gladly, throwing an arm around House's shoulders. "This guy's got so much money that he puts Montgomery Burns to shame!"
"Rika!" House hissed.
"Here's my donation!" she declared, handing a five dollar bill to Ford. "I'm afraid that's all I'm carrying at the moment."
"Oh, thank you so much!" he said appreciatively.
"Bah humbug," House murmured.
"And you, sir?" Wilson asked, his tone actually sounding a bit bitter from his actual conversation with his friend earlier.
"I offer them absolutely nothing," he said, almost proudly.
"But, sir!" Ford argued. "The harshness of winter's upon us! They'll die!"
"They had better do it, and decrease the surplus population," he grumbled.
The two couldn't believe what they were hearing. "I don't believe this!" Ford exclaimed.
"Come, Ford," Wilson said, opening the front door. "I believe we've taken enough of Mr. House's time."
"Don't let the door hit ya on the way out!" House snapped, slamming the door after they've left. "Oh, what's this world coming to?" he bemoaned, Rika and Kronk staring at him in disbelief. "You work hard for your entire life for the money you earn…and they just expect you to give it away!"
"It's thinking about others, Uncle House," Rika said, opening the door again for her exit. She looked back. "It's about kindness."
"Bah! Humbug!" was his response.
She sighed. "Well, that Christmas Dinner offer still stands. Merry Christmas, fellas!"
When she was gone, House groaned, "Jeez, why'd I have to have a niece like that?" He turned to Kronk. "Well, what are you looking at? Get back to work, you meat-head!" Yelping, Kronk picked up his quill and began his work once more.
---
Kronk's idly tapped his quill, resting his large chin in his hand. He glanced up at the clock and a wide smile etched across his face. It was almost closing time. Making a few last strokes with his quill, Kronk set it down and picked up his scarf from the coat rack, preparing to leave. "Hmm…that ol' clock's running fast," House stated, holding a golden pocket watch. Kronk sighed despondently as he picked up the quill again. "Meh, forget it. You can go."
Brimming with joy, Kronk said, "Oh, thank you, sir!"
"And, I've been thinking, considering almost all the businesses will be closed tomorrow, I suppose…" Kronk's eyes grew to the size of saucers, "…you can take the whole day off tomorrow."
"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, Mr. House!" he cried blissfully. "You're too kind!"
"That statement's too true," House said. "But I expect you to be here earlier the day after!"
"I will, sir! I will!" Kronk assured him, gathering the last of his possessions. Just before leaving for his home, Kronk added, "And a Merry Christmas to you, sir!"
House rolled his eyes as his employee left. "Bah humbug…" he muttered. Thinking it was time for him to make his departure as well, he sealed away the money he was counting into a colossal safe that was easily the size of a small building and spun the golden combination lock. "Scrooge McDuck, eat your heart out," he smirked. Locking the front door to his shop, House slowly made his away through the thick snow that was now pouring – thanks to the untied Earthworm Jim – to his home.
The flowing red curtains drew to a close and the audience clapped their hands enthusiastically as they did. "And that's a wrap of Act 1, folks!" Arthur declared, relieved they were able to make it by with only one minor problem. "Twenty minute break, everyone!"
"Good, I've got some work to do," House said, stripping off his costume and making for the backstage exit.
"What?! Where are you going?!" Arthur demanded.
"None of your stinkin' beeswax," he said with a smile and he departed.
"Ugh…" Arthur groaned, but then spotted Trillian – and he was completely dumbfounded by how beautiful she looked in her dress of Belle from the play. "Um, wow! You look…unbelievable."
"Are you sure?" she asked uncertainly. "I feel – poofy."
"Oh, no, I think you look great," he assured her, smiling warmly.
"Excuse me, Arthur," Trillian said, walking to JD. "JD's been having a pretty crappy Christmas. I'm going to cheer him up."
"Oh, yes, sure," he said disappointedly. "You go do that…."
"Hey, JD," she said. "Are you okay?"
"I'm in sad shape, Trill'," JD moaned.
"You're damn right, you are!" Trillian said. "You've completely lost sight of what's important here! It's Christmas, and, if you don't something about it, a holiday is gonna pass and all you have to show for it is your name urinated in snow."
"But I like urinating my name in snow! Almost as much as I like touching myself."
Trillian placed her hands on both sides of JD's face. "Focus, JD. The holidays are great! Remember the time we all got drunk and danced all night? That was the greatest…."
"I wasn't invited," JD sighed.
"Well, what about the year we sat around the Christmas tree and beat-boxed?"
"I wasn't invited that time either."
"What about the –"
"Nope! Wasn't invited!"
"You need involvement," Trillian stated. "You need to get involved in some real Christmas project. Hmm, let me think…." She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Oh, I know! You can be responsible for picking out the Heart of Gold Detectives' Christmas Tree!"
"ME?!" he exclaimed, startled. "You want ME to get the team's Christmas Tree?!"
"Sure, JD, you can bring it to the after-play party," she said. "Just don't screw it up!"
Trillian smiled innocently as JD went cross-eyed.