Despite the thick blanket of snow that threatened to bury the city, everyone still managed to make it to the Beach City Community Theater.
"Can you believe it, honey?" Doug Maheswaran whispered excitedly to his wife, "Our little girl is going to be in a play!"
"I always knew she was talented," Priyanka agreed.
"Thank Steven," Greg shrugged. "Ever since she showed him that book, it's all he's been talking about for the past week."
"I can't believe that boy had never read A Christmas Carol before, Greg," Priyanka said. "It's a classic."
Greg shrugged, "Well, the Gems don't really celebrate Christmas and I guess I was just too busy to read it to him."
Behind them, they could hear the excited chatter of the Millers, the Yellowtails, the Pizzas, and all the other adults of Beach City.
"Man, is everyone's kid in this?" Doug asked.
"I think so," Priyanka said. "And the Gems too, right Greg?"
"That's what Steven said," Greg answered.
The lights began to dim.
"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming. Now sit back, relax, and enjoy… Steven's Universe's A Christmas Carol."
We open on a snowy winter London, 1840 on Christmas Eve. Various townsfolk were walking around, carrying gifts and parcels and wishing each other a Merry Christmas. Standing in the center of the stage was a girl in a top hat and coat.
"Hello, I'm Charlene Dickins and I'll be your narrator for the evening," she said. "As you can see, Christmas was a very special time for the people of London. A time of giving and sharing and holiday joy."
Suddenly, all the townsfolk freeze as a figure walks into frame. The figure is a tall, slender woman dressed in a dark suit and cloak, trugging through the deep snow with a cold and forbodding air. The townsfolk clear a wide path, staying as far away from her as possible.
"Except for one person," Dickins went on . "Ebeneza Scrooge. She was ruthless, greedy, and cunning, as cold as the snow and twice as bitter."
The scenery changes to the inside of a bank. The building is cold, both in temperature and atmosphere. Scrooge walks in and removes her cloak and hat, revealing pale, white skin, a pointed nose, and short yellow hair. She takes a seat at her desk
"Scrooge worked as a money lender in London," Dickins' voice narrated . "Her business partner, Jacobi Marley, had recently passed away and in mourning, she was doubling down on the morgage rates of every Londoner unlucky enough to borrow money from her."
Nearby at another desk sits a thin and lanky man with large ears and a crop of orange hair. He shivers as he works, due to the lack of warmth in the building. Scrooge, however, is unfazed.
"You better be coming along with those statements, Crachet," Scrooge says to the man. "This is the time of foreclosures and debt collecting. More and more people seem to forget where to put their money this time of year."
"O-only b-because they're b-buying gifts," Bob Crachet, Scrooge's clerk, replies, his breath appearing with every word. "I-i-it is C-Christmas, after all."
"Well, then be sure to gift wrap them," Scrooge responds, "And stop stammering, you sound like a scoundrel." Crachet sighs and looks at the huge load of paperwork next to his desk.
Suddenly, the door chimes as two indentical dark-skinned girls walk in, both carrying charity boxes. "Good afternoon, Ma'am," one of them says, "my sister and I are collecting donations for the poor." "Lots of folks in need this season," her twin adds.
"Well, you can put me down for zero shillings and zero farthings," Scrooge says.
The twins look at each other in shock.
"But Ma'am," one of them says, "There people are needy."
"Yes, they put a terrible strain on us working folk, don't they?" Scrooge says. "I don't see why you bother giving them money when they clearly aren't going to contribute to society. Better to let them die out, I say."
"Are you serious?" one of the twins gasps. "How can you say such things?"
"Because they are true," Scrooge says professionally. "The poor live short, boring, insignificant lives wallowing in their own pity and woe, so they rely on charities to feel some sense of importance. It's quite pathetic, if you ask me."
For a moment, the twins are silent in shock.
"Whoa," one of them finally says, "Not cool, Scrooge. Not cool at all."
She and her sibling turn and exit the bank, with Scrooge hardly paying them a glance.
A few moments later, the door chimes again and a young man peeks in. Snow trickles off his thick locks of blonde hair.
"Aunt Scrooge?" He asks.
"Hello Fred," Scrooge replies plainly.
Fred steps inside. He looks tired and weary, much like Crachet, but exhibits a more positive demenor. "So… I'm throwing a big fancy dinner tonight and I was hoping you could join us."
"I take it you'll be serving roasted duck with collard greens?"
"Yes," Fred replies.
"And candied potatoes with little marshmallows?"
"Yes," Fred once again says.
"and cinnamon spiced cakes that explode in your mouth?"
"YES!" Fred now has on a big smile, revealing a missing tooth.
"Belch!" Scrooge retches, "You know how I feel about eating stuff like that! I wouldn't be caught dead in such a place."
Fred's face falls and he lets out a big sigh.
"Okay," he says quietly, his tone flat and depairing. "Well, if you change your mind…"
"I don't see why you waste your time with such silly delusions," Scrooge says.
Fred now looks very sullen, as if every inch of joy has been sucked out of him. Turning, he exits the bank.
"Yep, her heart was as cold and empty as the bank's fireplace," Dickens narrated.
"Feasts, charities, what wastes of good money," Scrooge mutters to herself. "No wonder we've got so many defaulters. I swear, that's about the only thing Christmas is good for. Weeding out all the bad spenders. All the rest is just a bunch of humbug."
Crachet looks up from his work.
"M-Ms Scrooge," he struggles not to stammer, "You know tomorrow, most businesses will be closed down and well… I was hoping that we could maybe do the same."
Scrooge looks up, glaring at her clerk. "First off, don't say 'we,' Crachet. Marley was my partner, not you. Second, why ON EARTH would I do such a thing?!"
With courage, Crachet said, "I mean no disrespect, Ms Scrooge. It's just that I've got a wife and son at home and I would like to spend Christmas with them."
Scrooge's glare sharpens.
"I swear to be back by sunrise the next day and I'll work double shifts," he adds. "You can even take it out of my pay."
For a moment, there was silence. Finally, Scrooge settles back in her seat. "Hmmm," she ponders, "Well, I guess you have been a decent employee all year, which isn't saying much considering. It's not like your role couldn't be filled by literally anyone else." She sighs. "Fine, but I will be excepting you back by sunrise."
A look of pure relief forms across Crachet's face. "Thank you, Ms. Scrooge." His boss rolls her eyes as he collects his bag and heads for the door.
Scoffing, Scrooge goes back to her work, muttering unpleasantries under her breath.
"Little did she know that her life was about to change forever."
We transition to evening and Scrooge is walking home. The street is dead aside from her and the snow and wind have picked up. Shivering and scowling, Scrooge pushes through the cold, glaring around at all the bright and warm houses around her.
"H-humbug."
She finally arrives at her home, a drab and desolute building. Muttering to herself, she pulls out her key and places it in the lock of her door. It clicks, but something stops her from moving to open it. Something that freezes her in place and makes her gasp in horror.
The door knocker is now glowing bright blue and has changed into a new form. Instead of a gargoyle, it is now a transparent, red-eyed rendition of a very familar face.
It's the face of Jacobi Marley!
The monstrosity looks up at her and lets out a scream. Matching it with one of her own, Scrooge falls onto her back. She looks up in terror, but the knocker is now back to its normal shape and the blue glow has vanished.
Shaking her head, Scrooge gets up and, after a moment of hesitation, places her hand on the door knob. Nothing happens.
"Humbug." She opens the door.
We are now in Scrooge's living room. She sits by the fire in her nightgown and cap, a small bowl in her lap. The meager contents within explain her thin figure. It's clear Scrooge is not into eating that much.
As she is about to bring another spoonful to her lips, there is a creaking sound from down below. Scrooge turns to look, but sees nothing on the stairway. "Hello?"
The sound comes again, this time accomplained by a horrible scrapping sounds and the rattling of chains. It's growing closer.
Scrooge curles up in her chair as the sound persist, now joining in is a strained low moaning. It gets louder and louder, closer and closer, until it's practically on top of her. With a defeaning clang, something big and heavy hits the floor and Scrooge's chair is swung around. She covers her eyes.
"Scrooooooooge."
In spite of her terror, she recognizes the voice. She hesitately looks.
Hovering in front of her is the spirit of Jacobi Marley. Her skin is a sickly green and her massive pile of blonde hair dirty and frizzled. Through her huge green eyeglasses, Scrooge can see two sullen and dead-looking eyes. She's wrapped from head to toe in long, heavy chains with metal safes at the end.
"M-Marley," Scrooge whispers. "My old business partner."
"In the flesh," Marley says in a weak attempt at a laugh. She sounds as tired and worn out as she looks. "Well? Aren't you going to scream or something?"
Despite the ghasty spector in front of her, Scrooge composes herself. "No. Why would I waste such energy on something that isn't real?"
Marley looks perplexed. "Seriously? I'm floating here, chains and all, and you're calling me fake?!"
"Yes, clearly something in this food isn't sitting right down there," Scrooge puts the bowl on the table and points a finger at Marley. "You're just a hallucination, a figment brought on some stingy bit of beef, some piece of potato, or some gruel gravy. There's more gravy than there is grave-oh dear Lord, what I am even saying?" She flinches in disgust. "Ugh, this is why I hate food."
Marley's eye twichs. She throws back her head and lets out a terrifying, defeaning scream. Scrooge's demeanor instantly turns into terror as Marley's already raspy, scratchy voice drills into her soul.
"Okay, okay, you're real! You're real!" she cries desperately. "Please, stop!"
"OH WOE IS ME! WOE IS MEEEEEEE!" Marley wails. "LOOK AT ME! LOOK AT WHAT I HAVE BECOME!" She raises her arms and through some supernatural force, the bundles of chains rise and dance in the air. "FOR SEVEN YEARS, I'VE HAD TO BEAR THE COLD, HEAVY, CLODDY GRIP OF THESE CHAINS! AND THE WEIGHT! THE WEIGHT! OHHH, THE HORRIBLE WEIGHT!"
As she cries, some of the chains fly over to Scrooge and wrap themselves around her body. She's yanked out of her chair and pulled into the air alongside Marley.
"Marley, let me go!" Scrooge cries, hopelessly struggling. "What are these horrible chains?! Who was cruel enough to bind you in them?!"
"HA!" Marley suddenly stops and graps her chain in her hands. "As if there was someone else I could blame my whole damnation on! These are chains of sin, of greed, of selfishness! Every bad deed I ever committed was forged into another link, another lock, another safe!" She twirls one of the safes in the air and brings it down on Scrooge's chair, smashing it to bits.
"Don't get comfy, Scrooge!" Marley pulls Scrooge right up to her face and grabs her by the shoulders. "Soon you're going to be joining me in this hell. You have a chain even longer and heavier than mine! We're going to be CHAIN BUDDIES!" She starts to shake her, laughing hysterically.
"H-h-h-h-h-humb-u-u-u-g!" Scrooge cries.
Marley and the chains release Scrooge and she drops to the floor.
"Oh, wake up and smell the brimestone, you lumpy, clumpy loan collector!" Marley exclaims. "Ugh, my time is nearing it's end. Maybe they'll have a better chance of hammering it into your thick skull than me!"
Scrooge gulps. "What do you mean by 'they?'"
"You're going to be visited by three more spirits tonight," Marley says. "The first will come at one, the second at two, and the third-oh you get the picture."
"Can they all just come at once so I can get them over with?" Scrooge asks hopefully.
"NO, YOU CLOD!" Marley begins to hover back. "Listen to them, Scrooge! Listen and change!" Her chains suddenly drop and she vanishes into the floor. "Listen and chaaaaaaaaange!"
Scrooge is now alone.
For a moment, she just sits there, starring frozen at the spot where Marley vanished. The room is now pitch black aside from the moonlight from the windows.
Suddenly, the chime of the clock makes her jump. She looks up and to her horror, sees that it's officially one in the morning. Cold and terrified, she turns and buries herself under the sheets of her bed, hoping in vain that this all turns out to be a nightmare.
There's a falint sound of stirring wind, followed by the creak of a window and a strange flapping noise. A pause and then…
A grunt-like cough, as if one was trying to clear their throat.
Another pause and…
"Hello?"
This voice is soft and feminine, but flat and with an aura of annoyance.
(Sigh) "Alrighty then."
The sheets are yanked up and off Scrooge. She yelps, but finds herself calm at the sight in front of her.
Hovering in the air, sheets clutched in one hand, is a spirit. Her skin is light blue, like the color of water. She wears a tiara of pearls on a head of short, whispy blue hair and a long, white gown with no slippers. Sprouting from her back are two huge, translucent wings that appear somehow to be made of water.
"Peek-a-boo," she says dryly.
Scrooge unfurls, scared, but also amazed.
"A-are you one of the spirits?" she asked.
"No, I'm Tinkerbell. You seen a boy in green tights?" She chuckles, her voice perking up a little. "Just kidding. I am the Ghost of Christmas Past and I'm here, Scrooge, to show you how it all began."
Scrooge rises from the bed. "A-all what?"
"All you," the Ghost says, taking on a more serious tone, "Haven't you always wondered why you feel so bitter and miserable? Or why all you care about is money? Do you even remember a time when your heart wasn't a cold, dark void full of soul-crushing dispair and hatred for all those who dared utter the phrase ' Merry Christmas ?'
She finished in a tone so ominous and bleak that it caused Scrooge to start shivering again. "I… n-no." "Well, then we've got no time to lose," the Ghost says, perking up again. She reached out. "Take my hand."
"O-okay, but I don't see how-whoa!" Scrooge is suddenly hoisted up in the air upon touching the spirit. They both turn towards the open window.
The Ghost grins. "Hold on."
Scrooge screams as the two of them sour out through the window.
The scenery changes to the two flying above the buildings of London before arriving at snowy school building. It's now sunny and the weather is calm. Scrooge squints as her eyes adjust to the new environment.
"Look familar, Scrooge?"
Now seeing clearly, Scrooge looks upon the building and her mouth falls up in shock. "Why… this is my old schoolhouse! I practically grew up here!"
There's a ringing of a bell and off-stage, we hear the laughter of children.
"Oh my stars, it's all my old classmates!" Scrooge waves to the unseen figures. "Hi everyone!"
"Save your breath, Scrooge. They can't hear you," the Ghost of Christmas Past says. "In fact, they can't hear or see either of us. For lack of a better term, we're ghosts."
"They all look so happy," Scrooge sighs.
"Yeah, cause it's Christmas break," the Ghost said in an obvious tone. "Look at all these children; laughing, playing, all eager to spend time with their families at home. But not you." A small figure walks onstage. It's a little girl with a curl of yellow hair and a blank expression. "Every year, you stayed here with your teachers."
Young Scrooge is joined by a man in a teacher's outfit. He looks very similar to the young girl. "Hey Edeneza, so you're attending our winter program again?" He speaks in a dry, snarky voice. Young Scrooge babbles a bunch of gibberish in a high-pitched voice.
"You always had a way with words," the Ghost remarkes.
"Meh," the teacher shrugs, apparently having understood his pupil. "I see your point. I'd stay if I didn't have any family too. So, let's get started on Banking 101."
He leads young Scrooge offstage and the older Scrooge turns to glare at the Ghost.
"You're judging me for the choices I made as a child?" she yells. "You heard… me; I had no family and was lonely. I thought if I pushed myself deep enough into my work, I could…"
"-blot out the pain?" the Ghost finishes. "Take it from me; burying yourself doesn't kill the pain. It just makes it stronger for the future."
"But I never hurt anyone as a child," Scrooge argues.
"No, but let's see go forward a bit," the Ghost takes Scrooge's hand and they fly away.
We're now in a bright, warm ballroom filled with people. There's much music and laughter in the air. "I recognize this place!" Scrooge clapped her hands together. "This is one of Mr. Fezziweg's Christmas parties!"
"Alright, all you party people!" a man in dark shades appears above the guests. "I want to see lanturns in the air for this next one!"
"That's Fezziweg himself," Scrooge said as everyone began waving around lanturns with pink and blue flames. "He gave me my first job. He was a bit eccentric."
"-but still loved Christmas and people," the Ghost finished. "He even got you to come out of your shell and attend every once in a while. In fact," she pointed. "look over there."
There was a bright beam of light and a young Scrooge appears on the dance floor. Unlike the others, she is bright blue, still as a statue, and slighly transparent.
"Quite the party animal, you were," the Ghost says, "but you still caught the favor of one man."
"Excuse me, Ebeneza!" A young man with flowing brown hair runs on stage. "Please pardon my intrusion, but thyn heart can not longer bare the strain of my intermost feelings towards thou. Thy beauty is more vibrant as a springtime daisy, thy eyes brighter than the rising sun, and thy posture more poise and proper than even be Queen Victoria."
"Oh brother," the Ghost rolls her eyes. Scrooge on the other hand, is awestruck.
"Jaime, my first love! Oh, he was such an honest and fair young man. And so articulate."
"I come to thy, ever so humble, and ask, no beg upon your greatness," Jaime holds out a hand, "wilst thou partake in a dance with thy?"
Young Scrooge's eyes flashes and her head jerked robotically to face Jaime. "You wish to engage in fusion practice?" She speaks in a commanding and loud voice.
"It be thy honor," Jaime responds.
"Very well. Begin!" Grabbing the boy's hand, young Scrooge leads Jaime in a fast and rigid tango across the dance floor.
Proper Scrooge wipes away a tear. "This was one of the happiest moments of my life." "Yeah," the Ghost says. "Until…"
"Oh Ebeneza, that was truly wonderful!" Jaime beams as they finish their dance. "Please, wouldst thou accompany me on a future night of merriment?"
"Error. Does not compute," Young Scrooge moves away from Jaime. "Rebooting. Standby." In a flash, she vanishes. Tears fill Jaime's eyes and he runs crying from the ballroom.
"Ouch," The Ghost glances over at a horrified Scrooge, her face having fallen in dispair. "I…" she stammers, her lips quivering. "Oh, poor boy."
Yeah, you really blew it," the Ghost agreed. "But hey, what's done is done, huh? Can't change the past." Sniffling, Scrooge turns to her. "So why are we here?"
"Didn't you hear me?" The Ghost asks. "To remind you how it all began. How you pushed away every chance at being happy for the sake of work and money."
Scrooge blows her nose, still sobbing.
"There's no point in crying over your past, Scrooge," the Ghost says. "You can't help Jaime anymore, but you still can prevent more hearts from being broken.
"How?"
"That's up to you," the Ghost says. "But from the looks of it, you've taken your first step." A chime rings out from somewhere.
"My time is at it's end," the Ghost turns to Scrooge. "Time for you to go home, Scrooge." In a quick change of scenery, they are both now back in Scrooge's bedroom.
"Learn from the past," the Ghost says as she leaves Scrooge on her bed. "You might be able to fix your future." "My… my future?" Scrooge asks, but the Ghost has vanished.
The clocks rings again. It's two in the morning. Another spirit is coming.
Scrooge huddles in her bed, prepared for the worst.
At first, nothing.
Then comes a rumbling sound from her wardrobe. It shakes and burst open, spilling out a torrent of garbage. Scrooge ducks under her blankets as the garbage piles up into a huge mountain that nearly touches the ceiling. Eventually, the wardrobe stops spewing and Scrooge looks out. Before she can even say a word, a laugh rings out.
"Who's there?!" she asks.
"Just me, Scroogie!" Appearing on top of the garbage mountain, sitting in a moldly armchair like a throne, is the second spirit. This one looks much different than the first. She's short, stout, and dressed in a ragged, torn, moth infested green robe that has clearly never been washed. Her lavender hair is long, messy, and looks just as unkempt as her clothing. Her face is partially obcured by her mane, but Scrooge can see that she was light purple skin.
"I-I take it you are the next spirit?" Scrooge says, barely able to comprehend the state of her visitor, much less the transformation she has done to her room.
"Yep, I'm the Ghost of Christmas Present," the ghost says, pointing at herself. "Sorry about all the clutter. I'm a bit of a heavy packer."
Now coming back to her senses, Scrooge looks around in disgust at the mess around her. "What… IS all this-this garbage?!" she blurts out.
The ghost shrugs. "Oh, just stuff people throw out on Christmas. I'm a bit of a collector." Indeed, a closer look reveals the garbage to be an assortment of worn and old goods; torn bags, busted boxes, ragged clothing, spintered furniture, dusty knick-knacks, rusty appliances, bent and broken instruments of all sorts, various animal bones, and rotten food.
"Why on Earth would anyone see value in such rubbish?" Scrooge asks, perplexed.
"Hey, it's like the humans say: one man's trash is another man's treasure," the Ghost says. "Well, now I know I must be dreaming," Scrooge huffs.
The ghost sighs. "You really don't get out a lot, do you?"
"What are you talking about?"
Jumping from her throne, the ghost lands right in front of Scrooge and pulls her forward, rapping on her forehead with her knuckles. "Hello, hello, anybody home? Wake up Scroogie!" She releases her. "You ever wonder what life is like for everyone else aside from you? Trust me, you'd be surprised how some people can get such joy out of so little."
"I take it that is what you've come to show me?" Scrooge asks.
"Yep, come on up." Grabbing Scrooge by the arm, the ghost jumps back to the top of her mountain of trash. It shakes and the top layer detaches and rises like a magic carpet, carrying the two riders out the window. "Please keep your hands and feet inside the garbage at all times blah blah blah. You know the rest."
Another transition and the two found themselves floating inside a warmly-lit dining room. Below them, a large number of well-dressed people sat merrily around a large dining table covered in delicious, hot food. At the head of the table was a familiar face.
"Nephew Fred," Scrooge exclaims. "This is his Christmas feast."
Indeed, it was Fred. Despite the warm and jolly atmosphere around him, the young man still seemed down.
"Aw, cheer up Freddy," one of his party guests (who looks very much like one of the chariety girls) says. "So your old hag of an aunt isn't coming? Big deal."
"She's my only family left," the boy sighs. "I just wanted us to be together for once. And all she said was-"
There was a blue glow and a ghostly apparation of Scrooge appears. In a monotone, robotic voice, she cries, "I wouldn't be caught dead in such a place!"
The apparation vanishes and the real Scrooge's face sinks under the weight of her past words.
"Fred, all that old bat cares about money," another guest (who like her twin bares a striking resemblance to an eariler character) adds. "Did she come to your birthday? Your graduation? Or even your mom's funeral?"
"Don't waste your tears on her, man," a Fezziweg lookalike adds. "Focus on the here and now, with us folk who do care about you."
"Mamamamamamamamama," a young blonde boy with a familiar face pipes up.
"What my little bro says is, 'we're your family,'" the boy's older brother explains.
Fred looked up and, after a moment of consideration, nods. "You guys are right. I guess I really shouldn't be suprised. I mean, she doesn't even like eating."
"Neither does my little bro, but he still came."
Everyone laughs as Scrooge turns to the ghost, her face striken with guilt.
"Stings, doesn't it?" the ghost says.
"I never knew he thought of me that way," Scrooge whimpers.
"You never give him any attention and yet, he still comes to you with offers like this," she raises a hand to the feast below. "You know how rare it is to find people that generous? And all you did was throw it in his face."
Scrooge sniffles. "Spirit, I've already been haunted by my own misdeeds. Please, take me somewhere else." "Oh, we're going, Scroogie. Time for you to see the other half."
The scenery changes to them landing outside a tiny, shaddy house in downtown London. "I don't recognize this place," Scrooge says.
"Ah, but I bet he looks familiar," the ghost points to a nearby figure slowly trudging through the snow to the front door. Through the dim light of the window, Scrooge can make a tuff of red hair.
"Bob Crachet?" she asks. "My clerk?"
"The one and only," the ghost replies. The two watch as the cold and shivering Crachet knocks his hand upon the front door with a frost-covered glove. The door opens and in it stands a short, portly woman with a mess of blonde hair. She immediately grabs Crachet and pulls him into a tight, bone-crushing hug. "Bobby, you're home!"
"Hi… honey," he strains, "Ah… can't… breathe."
"Oh sorry," she releases him. "Golly, you feel like an ice cube! Come on in and warm up by the fire." She pulls him inside and shuts the door.
"Lucked out, didn't he?" the ghost chuckles. She and Scrooge peer through the window at the drab and dusty interior of the Crachet household. Crachet huddles by the fireplace while his wife prepares their table.
"I take it the old crone still won't light your fireplace?" Mrs. Crachet asks, starring in pity at her husband. Scoffing, she adds, "The last thing we need is for you to get sick and bedridden. Then we'd really be in trouble."
"At least she was generous enough to give me Christmas off," Crachet says.
"Generous? Ha!" his wife chortles. "That wrinkly old walnut wouldn't know generosity if it bit her on the-" "Mother?" a voice came from another room. "Is that Father you're talking to?"
"Yep. Come and get him, Timmy!" Mrs Crachet says with a smile.
There is a sound of creaking wood and a small boy with a crutch hoddles into the room. He's short and stout like his mother, but with dark, curly hair instead of blonde. Despite his disability, the boy clears the room in moments and wraps his father in another tight hug.
"Oh father!" he cries. "I missed you so much!"
His father lightly returns the gesture. "Hi, Tiny Tim."
"Come on, dinner's on the table."
As the family gathers together, Scrooge takes notice of the pitifully small goose Mrs. Crachet has brought out. "Is that all they have to eat?" she asks the ghost.
"That's all they can afford," she replies. "Bigger than last year's."
"Now be careful when you sit down," Mrs Crachet says. "The table a bit shaky."
"One of the legs is gone, Mother!" Tiny Tim notices as he sits down.
"Yeah, well…" she looks towards the fireplace. "I was low on firewood."
"It's okay, we can use my crutch." The boy happily props it up under the table, making it steady. "There, good as new!"
His generous act brings warm smiles to his parents' faces, as well as Scrooge's.
"Father, did I hear you say you got the whole day off tomorrow?" Tiny Tim asks, a huge smile spreading across his face. His father nods and the boy claps in delight. "Yay! Now we can spend the whole day caroling."
"Not with that bad leg of yours, Timmy dear," Mrs Crachet says.
"It's okay, Mother, Father can carry me on his shoulder," Tiny Tim looks to his father, who looks extremely anxious at the thought of having to carry his large son. Nevertheless, he smiles back and ruffles his son's hair.
"Yeah," he says, "We can do something like that."
"Now let us all say grace," Mrs. Crachet takes her husband and son's hands as she prepares to pray. "Don't forget to thank Ms. Scrooge, Mother," Tiny Tim adds. "For giving Father the day off."
His mother snorts, but the boy is persistent. "I know you and Father say she isn't very nice, but maybe she just needs somebody to love her."
Mrs Crachet chuckles. "Just like I always say Bob: ' The boy's heart is so big, his leg's too scared to move .'" She kisses her son on the cheek. "Okay, we'll throw Scrooge in here too."
Scrooge watches as the family bows their heads to pray, her hand to her heart. "Such a sweet boy." "Yeah, lucky guys," the Ghost agrees. "I just hope they enjoy him while they can."
Scrooge turns to the Ghost. "What could you possibly mean?"
"Tiny Tim's a growing boy," the Ghost motions to the child inside. "He needs lots of food to stay strong. If his daddy doesn't get a hold of some more dough soon, well…" she sighed. "Let's just say he won't have to worry about carrying him next Christmas."
Scrooge's eyes go wide. "What? You mean-?!"
"I don't see why you would care," the Ghost shrugs. "Not many job out there for people like him and there's no point in helping those who can't contribute to society. Better to let them die out."
Scrooge freezes as her own words are once again thrown back at her. Overwhelmed by guilt and shame (a coldness the winter night can't even come close to matching), she stares blankly at the frosted window.
The Ghost snaps her fingers in front of her face. "Hello? You still there, Scroogie?"
Scrooge slowly turns to look at her. "Spirit, please. Speak words of comfort to me."
The Ghost shakes her head. "Sorry, but I only speak for the present and presently, things aren't looking good for that little boy."
"B-but," Scrooge stammers, desperate for some sort of relief. "there's still time, isn't there? Time to change things?"
Suddenly, a clock chimes out. The Ghost's eyes go wide.
"Oooh, my shift's over."
In a flash, they are back in Scrooge's room. Aside from the floating pile they are sitting on, the room is now magically clean and free of garbage. The Ghost throws Scrooge back onto her bed.
"Hate to leave ya, Scroogie, but Christmas only comes once a year and so do I." The doors to the wardrobe open and the pile floats inside. "Remember, you can't change the present of the past, but you can change the present of the future!"
Scrooge looks confused. "What does that even mean?"
"Don't look at me, I didn't write the script!" The doors of the wardrobe slam shut and Scrooge is once again alone.
The clock once again rings, this time letting out three bell tolls.
Gulping, Scrooge sits up and looks around for any sign of the approaching third spirit. If the last two visits were anything to go by, this one will be less than pleasent.
Seconds tick on, but she neither sees nor hears nothing. For a brief moment, Scrooge ponders if this whole thing may in fact be over.
Suddenly, there is a creak from under her bed. Quivering, Scrooge pulls her blanket up to her face. Suddenly, the front of the bed jumps up, launching Scrooge over the head and onto the floor. The bed lowers and Scrooge freezes in horror.
Floating in the air, just beyond the foot of the bed, is a dark, ghostly figure. It's hard to make out due to the long, billowing cloak covering it from head to toe. Before Scrooge can even think, two small arms sprout from the sides of the cloak and pull back a hood.
A head emerges, followed by an avalanche of white hair that spills down the spirit's back. Thick bangs cover the spirit's eyes, leaving only a small nose and chin visible. Her skin is an icy pale blue, like the flesh of a corpse. She appears to be quite short, even more so than the previous spirit, but nevertheless envokes a sense of terror and dread in Scrooge.
The spirit's head slowly leans forward to look down at Scrooge. With a gloved hand, she motions for Scrooge to stand up, a request immedately accomplished by the frightened woman.
In a tiny squeak of a voice, she says, "A-are you the third spirit?"
The spirit nods, for she is the Ghost of Christmas Future. Hesitantly, Scrooge approaches her. "A-are you going to take me somewhere like the others?"
Again, the Ghost does not respond in words. Instead, she merely raises her hand and holds it out for Scrooge to take. Trembling, she does so and is immediately pulled off her feet as the spirit takes off out the window.
The two are flying through the air, moving so fast that the scenery is nothing more than a tunnel of bright, blurry colors. Scrooge would scream if she had any breath left in her.
Eventually, everything slows down and the two touch back on solid ground. Looking around, Scrooge sees that they are once again at the home of the Crachets.
"Spirit?"
The Ghost gestures towards the window and Scrooge peers inside. Sitting alone at the dinner table are Bob and his wife, both looking downright miserable. There is no sign of Tiny Tim.
Sniffling, Mrs Crachet looks up to her husband, her eyes red and tear-stained. "Honey," she chokes on her words, "We need to eat before the fire's goes out."
Bob Crachet gazes up at her. Scrooge notices that his body and clothes are covered in snow and frost, as if he'd been standing in the snow all day. He lets out a sneeze and shivers.
"See, we've got to get you into bed before you catch a cold," his wife cries. "God knows you've got a whole 'nother day of snow shoveling tomorrow."
Scrooge gasps. "I-I fired him?"
As Bob reaches for his plate, he accidently puts weight on the bad side of the table. Unbalanced, it tilts, sending all their silverware and food crashing to the floor. As his wife tries in vain to salvage their dinner, Bob looks around for something.
"W-where's-?"
"I had to use it for firewood," Mrs Crachet whimpers, tearing up again.
Scrooge gasps and Bob's eyes go wide in shock.
"I'm sorry," his wife chokes back tears, "I-I just couldn't bare to look at it anymore. Couldn't think of him-" She's cut off by sobs.
Bob's eyes drift away and he sighs in resignation. "I guess it's what he would have wanted." "Always looking out for others instead of himself," Mrs. Crachet cries, "B-bless his little heart." Unable to contain herself, she drops everything and embraces her husband.
He strokes her hair in a small attempt to comfort her. "Remember last Christmas?" he asks, a tiny hint of a smile on his face, "He sang carols for the orphanage, the poorhouse, the hospital, and the church."
"Yeah, you carried him for well over twenty blocks," his wife manages a smile, "Your back was so sore, you had to be brought home in a wagon."
"He loved every minute of it though," Bob says. "And honestly, I did too." He wraps an arm around his wife and begins to lead her away. "Come on, the fire will put itself out. Let's get to bed."
As they pass by the window, Scrooge sees Bob's face drop once again and she finally breaks. Slumping against the windowsill, Scrooge cries and cries, her wails echoing through the night.
"Spirit," she cries. "Please! Show me some sign of happiness. Of joy!"
The Ghost reaches out and Scrooge grabs her hand.
In a flash, they are now in the dining room of an unfamiliar house, watching a group of people laugh at around the dinner table.
"Knock knock," a voice calls. The front door opened, revealing a pair of brothers, both were carrying heavy bags over their shoulders.
"Oooh, you're back," a girl says.
"Any trouble getting in?" her twin asks.
The older brother shrugs. "Meh, house was dead."
The younger, shorter brother lets out a series of gibberish, causing everyone to laugh. "Good one, lil' bro."
"Come on, show us the money!" a boy with shades yells. The brothers dump open their bags, spilling a mountain of gold shillings and farthings onto the table.
"Thanks for the hairpin," the oldest brother hands it back to one of the girls. "Took less than a minute to get the ol' geezer's safe open."
"Lord knows she sure won't be needing it anymore!" One of the twins laughs.
Scrooge gasps. "They stole this from someone?"
"I walked by the place eariler," the boy in glasses says. "No signs, no cops, nothing. You never would have known somebody died this morning."
"Well, can you be suprised?" a twin says. "It's not like anybody liked her to begin with." "Yeah, all she did was take everyone's money and say ' humbug ' a lot," the other adds. "What does that even mean?" the older brother asks.
The younger brother responds with gibberish.
"Who cares?" a twin says. "We're rich and she's buried six feet under."
"I guess Christmas miracles really are a thing," the boy in glasses raises a cup. "To Christmas miracles." "To Christmas miracles!' the whole room cries.
As they greedily begin digging through the gold, Scrooge turns to the Ghost.
"Why would you show me something so horrible? These people stole for a dead person!" The Ghost takes her hand and they race out of the room.
They are now at a graveyard on the outskirts of London.
Scrooge gulps. "S-spirit…"
The Ghost points up forward.
"Is this where that person is buried?"
The Ghost only points. Scrooge follows her hand and slowly makes her way up through the yard, passing grave after grave. Finally, she arrives a small empty patch of land.
"Is this it?" Scrooge kneels down, but finds only dirt and rocks. No tombstone or crosses or any sign that a body is buried here. She looks up to see the Ghost now standing next to her.
"I don't understand," Scrooge says.
The Ghost points to the ground. At that very moment, it begins to shake.
Scrooge jumps to her feet. "Spirit, what is happening?!" She gets no response and the shaking only increases.
Scrooge takes a few steps backwards, but looses her balance and falls. She watches as a large, grey shape rises up out of the ground, bathing her in an omnious shadow. The shaking stops and Scrooge finally realizes what it is that has emerged.
It's a coffin.
Screaming, Scrooge turns to crawl away, finding the Ghost in her path. "Spirit," she begs, tears now streaming down her face. "Who's coffin is this? Whose?!"
The Ghost says nothing.
"PLEASE!" Scrooge cries. "TELL ME!"
With a loud creeeeeeak, the coffin opens. A bright blue glow illuminates the inside and Scrooge screams. It's her body. Thin, gauntly, pale blue, and as transparent as a ghost
"NOOOOOOO!" Scrooge shrieks. "NOT ME! NOT ME! I DON'T WANT TO DIE LIKE THIS!" She turns to the Ghost.
"SPIRIT!" she begs, tears gushing from her eyes. "PLEASE! TELL ME THERE IS STILL TIME! TELL ME I CAN AVOID THIS FATE!"
The Ghost points to the coffin.
"JUST GIVE ME A CHANCE!" Scrooge wails. "I'LL CHANGE! I SWEAR!"
The blue light fades off the coffin. Chains emerge from the inside and snake their way across the ground to Scrooge, wrapping around her legs and body.
"NOOOOOOOOOO!" She tries to grab the Ghost's cloak, but the spector hovers into the air. "DON'T LEAVE ME, SPIRIT! DON'T LET ME DIE!"
The coffin begins to slowly decend back into the ground, pulling Scrooge with it.
"I'LL BE JUST AND KIND AND GENEROUS!" Scrooge thrashes and struggles as she's dragged towards the hole. "I'LL LOVE CHRISTMAS AND PEOPLE AND FOOD! I'LL NEVER TAKE ANOTHER PENNY FROM ANYONE EVER AGAIN!"
The coffin has vanished and Scrooge has reached the edge of the hole. Yanking her hands free, she digs them into the dirt as her body is pulled in. "I'LL DO ANYTHING! ANYTHING! JUST PLEEEEEASE GIVE ME ANOTHER CHANCE!"
The ground gives way and Scrooge falls down into the hole, completely disappearing from sight. "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
The scenery changes as something rises up out of the ground. It's Scrooge's bed, the owner struggling amongst the sheets.
"LET ME OUT! PLEASE! I WANT TO LIVE! I WANT TO LIVEEEE!"
A clock chimes and Scrooge freezes. She opens her eyes as her surrounding come into view. She's back in her room. Light pours in from the window. The sound is coming from her clock. After nine chimes, it falls silent.
"Nine o'clock?" A shocked Scrooge frees herself from the sheets and sits up, taking deep breath after deep breath. She looks around, hardly daring to believe it. "I-I'm alive?"
From outside comes the ringing of a church bell and a huge smile breaks across Scrooge's face.
"OH MY STARS, I'M ALIVE!" she screams in shear joy, jumping up and down like a child. "YES! YES! YES! THEY DID IT! THEY'VE LISTENED! THEY'VE GIVEN ME ANOTHER CHANCE!"
Rushing to her window, Scrooge slams it open. "DID YOU HEAR THAT, LONDON? I GET ANOTHER CHANCE!" Something suddenly dawns on her. "Wait, is today…?"
She looks down and spots a girl jogging past her house.
"You there! You-hoo!"
The girl looks up. Her face is bright red and she wears a handband under a pair of earmuffs. "Are you talking to me, lady?"
"Why yes, of course I'm talking to you!" Scrooge laughs. "Tell me, my dear, what day is it?" The girl raises an eyebrow in confusion. "Christmas day, duh."
Scrooge claps. "Yes! That means there's still time. Oh, thank you, spirits!" She looks back down at the girl. "You know that butcher shop down the street?"
"The one with the gross, headless ducks in the window?" the girl responds.
Scrooge laughs. "The very same, my funny little friend. I want you to go down there, buy the largest turkey they have, and bring it back to me."
"You're kidding!"
"No, I'm serious, dear girl. Please, go and buy it. Be back in ten minutes and I'll give you five shillings."
The girl's eyes light up. "Really?"
"Be back in five and I'll give you ten."
The girl squeals in delight and runs off for the shop.
"Such a sweet girl," Scrooge sighs. She gasps, seeing two familar faces coming up the block.
We are now outside in the street. The chariety twin girls are passing by Scrooge's house when she bursts out the front door, dressed in her Sunday finest.
"Hello, my dears!" Skipping like a fairy, she desends the stairs and curtsies the girls.
"Ms Scrooge?" one of them says, perplexed.
"Who were you expecting, Mary Poppins?" Scrooge laughs. "Oh, I'm joking, I'm joking." Before the girls can say anything, Scrooge hugs them. "Merry Christmas girls! Please, accept my apology for yesterday. I think it's wonderful that you're raising money for the poor and I'd like to give my share."
Needless to say, the girls are speechless. "Is this some kind of trick?"
"Well, I'm not a magician, but I may have something in my hat," she reaches up and in a bright flash, produces a huge bulging sack of coins. "Here, catch."
"Oh!" The girls nearly fall over as the sack lands in their arms.
"And since it's a bit of a walk back to the church…" Scrooge pulls out a small bag of coins. "Here, a twenty shilling tip, for the two of you." She places it in one of their pockets, pats it close, and tips her hat. "I'd love to stay and chat, girls, but I've got lots to do. Happy Holidays!" She skips off down the street.
The girls stare at each other.
"What's gotten into her?"
"I don't know, but I want some!"
"Hehehehehehehe!" Scrooge prances through the street. "O' frabjous day! Callooh! Calley! OH!" She pivots, spotting another familiar face. "Fred!"
The young boy walks into view and is trackled by his aunt.
"Oh, my sweet, sweet nephew!" she sighs, hugging him tightly. "You're my only family and I was so horrible to you yesterday."
"Uh…," much like the twins, Fred is stunned by her change. "Aunt Scrooge?"
"The one and only," Scrooge chuckles and lets him go. "In all honesty Fred, I'm terribly sorry for the things I said. Please, if I beg your forgiveness, will you let me come to your feast tonight?"
"But…" Fred says. "you hate food."
"Hate, shmate," Scrooge replies. "How can I hate something if I've never tried it before. No, no, expect me to sample everything you serve," she cupped her hands together. "If, of course, you'll let me come?" She puts on her best "please" face.
For a moment, Fred looks uncertain… then a smile forms across his face. "I'd be honored."
"YIPPEE!" Scrooge spins him around and gives him one more hug. "I'll be over by five. Don't start without me!" She skips off, leaving her nephew behind to collect himself.
"Finally," he sighs happily.
Giggling like a schoolgirl, Scrooge knocks on the door of the Crachet house.
The door opens and her clerk goes pale at the sight of his boss.
"Ms. Scrooge!" he yelps.
"In the flesh," she laughs. "May I come in?"
Gulping, Crachet steps aside and she strolles in. "My my, what a quaint, lovely home." "So… what brings you here, b-boss?" Crachet asks.
"Well, I-" Scrooge is interrupted by the thud of a kitchen knife striking the wall behind her. "Oops," his wife mutters, smirking. "Thought I saw a spider."
"Honey," Bob makes a throat-slashing gesture to his wife.
"As I was saying," Scrooge says, "I had a bit of an epiphany last night. You see, I'm not exactly young anymore," "Oh, really?" Mrs. Crachet mutters.
"and I've got no heirs to take up the business. If my business is going to survive, I'm going to need a partner. Someone I can hand the reins too when I've pushing up dasies."
"Couldn't come fast enough."
"Honey!"
"Oh feddle dee-dee, let the lady have her fun, Bob." Scrooge says. "I can't say I don't deserve it, what with the way I've treated you and all."
She places her hands on his shoulders. "The truth is, you are a one-of-a-kind employee, Bob Crachet. There's no other man I'd feel more comfortable asking to be my business partner."
Crachet's jaw drops.
"Of course, that will entitle you to a pay raise," she adds. "And weekends off. if you choose to accept the offer, that is."
Crachet staggers and falls into his wife's arms.
"Of course, you must be starving," Scrooge slaps her hands to her head. Another bright flash and she's suddenly holding the world's largest turkey in her hands. A rather blonde-haired, scowling turkey at that. "Consider this your Christmas bonus."
"Father, who's down there with you?" There came a hobbling sound.
"Oh my stars!" Throwing the turkey into the air (and letting it be caught by Crachet's wife), Scrooge skips over and embraces the crippled boy. "You must be Tiny Tim. Oh, I've heard so many things about you."
"And you must be Ebeneza Scrooge," Tim replies. "My mother talks about you a lot." "Oh, I bet she does, my sweet boy," Scrooge giggles. "Here, take my hands."
"Whoa!" With a single florish, Tim is now on Scrooge's shoulders. Amazingly, the skinny woman has no trouble supporting the large boy. "Father look, I'm huge!"
"What's say we all go caroling after dinner?" Scrooge asks. "Your father tells me you have quite a lovely voice. I bet everyone in London would love to hear it."
"Father?" Tim asked.
"Well… as long as I get a chance to carry you, then yes," Crachet says.
"And as long as someone gets a photo of that, yes," his wife adds, the turkey now roasting over the fire.
As the group laughs amongst themselves, we pan outside the house and see Charlene Dickins looking in through the window. She turns back to face the stage.
"Sorry, I didn't want to distract from the story," she laughs. Walking away from the house, she goes on. "And so, with Bob Crachet by her side and Tiny Tim on her shoulders, Scrooge spent the rest of her years living a very happy and feastive life. She made lots of new friends and became one of the best bankers in all of London. Most importantly, she finally saw Christmas for what it truly was: A time of charity, love, and good will towards all."
The entire cast appears on stage, lead by Scrooge and Tiny Tim.
"So Merry Christmas, happy holidays, and remember."
"God bless us, everyone!"
The theater erupted in applause as the entire cast took a bow and the curtains closed.
THE END
Steven Universe's A Christmas Carol
Featuring
Pearl as Ebeneza Scrooge
Lars Barriga as Bob Crachet
Sadie Miller as Mrs. Crachet
Steven Quartz Universe as Tiny Tim
Connie Maheswaran as Charlene Dickins
Peridot as Jacobi Marley
Lapis Lazuli as The Ghost of Christmas Past
Amethyst as The Ghost of Christmas Present
Sapphire as The Ghost of Christmas Future
Peedee Fryman as Fred
Kiki and Jenny Pizza as the Charity Twin 1 and 2/Fred Guest 1 and 2/Looters 1 and 2
Bill Dewey as Mr. Fezziweg/Fred Guest 3/Looter 3
Sour Cream as Scrooge's Teacher/Fred Guest 4/Looter 4
Onion as Child Scrooge/Fred Guest 5/Looter 5
Jaime as Jaime
Hologram Pearl as Young Scrooge/Fred Party Scrooge/Dead Scrooge
Ruby as Young Girl
Ronaldo Fryman as the turkey
What is your favorite adaptation of A Christmas Carol? Let me know in the comments. Mine's a tie between The Muppet Christmas Carol and 2009's A Christmas Carol.