The next ghost materialized behind Scrooge. Scrooge examined the horrifyingly village before he turned around, screamed, and hit the floor. He quickly stood up, dusted off his bed robes, and grumbled. "Would you please stop doing that!"
This ghost is different than the others. He's about two heads taller than Scrooge, wearing a dark, large cloak, hiding his blue face, and holding a worm with a top hat and a bow tie. "Are you the Ghost of Christmas Future?" Scrooge asked. There came no response except for a small "mew" from the worm.
"I'm...I'm assuming that you are...?" Scrooge checked. Again, no answer. "So...uh...where are we going? Is there something you need to teach me too?"
The ghost still didn't answer, but instead, pointed towards a house. "T-this way?" Scrooge asked, pointing in the same direction as the ghost. The ghost slid along the ground ahead of him, then waited for Scrooge to follow.
Scrooge complied. The ghost waited until Scrooge was in front of him, then followed behind. Scrooge walked slowly, scared of the ghost, who remained silent behind him, even the worm has become silent.
Scrooge stopped in front of a house. "This one?" The ghost just replied by pointing at the door. Scrooge walked through the door, used to his intangible state. "It is a pity that he left such good stuff behind," a short, red Troll said.
"What did you get?" a tall, yellow haired Troll asked.
"I got his pj's!" the Troll exclaimed, holding them up to the merchant.
"Hmm..." the merchant said, examining them.
"Well, I got his lantern," a green haired Troll said pridefully.
"What's his lantern going to get you?" the red Troll asked.
"Couldn't get anything else?" the yellow haired Troll asked.
"Well, no, but I figured, 'his lantern would do,' so I picked it up and brought it over."
"It is a wonderful lantern."
"Well, I got his bedsheets!" the yellow haired Troll said proudly. "And, get this, they're still warm!" He handed them to the merchant. "Ooh, you're right! They are still warm!"
"I got his curtains," a blue Troll said, walking in. She handed the merchant the curtains. He fingered them before concluding his decision. "These are all wonderful, really," the merchant said, getting sighs from the other Trolls, "but the winner is the bed sheets." He handed them all cupcakes, but the Troll who got the bedsheets got three more than everyone else. "Have a Merry Christmas!"
Scrooge turned his attention to the ghost after the Trolls left. "Who are they celebrating?" No answer again. Instead, he pointed down a branch, through an isle of pods.
Scrooge followed his finger, the ghost once again following behind. In the center of a large crowd stands Creek. "Ugh, Creek," Scrooge replied.
Creek climbed on top of a wagon bug and waved his arms in the air. "Can you hear me?" he checked. The Trolls replied with cheers and applause. "Good!"
Creek cleared his throat. "Ladies and Gentlemen," he started singing, "on behalf of all the Trolls who have assembled here, I would merely like to mention, if I may, that our unanimous attitude is one of lasting gratitude, for what our friend has done for us today, and therefore, I would simply like to say..." He threw his arms in the air to rile up the crowd before he sang the chorus.
"Thank you very much! Thank you very much! That's the nicest thing that anyone has ever done for me. I may sound Double-Dutch, but my delight is such. I feel as if a losing war's been won for me. And if I had a flag, I'd hang my flag out, to add a final sort of victory touch. But since I left my flag at home, I'll simply have to say thank you very, very, very much!"
"Thank you very, very, very much!" the crowd of Trolls sang.
"Thank you very much! Thank you very much! That's the nicest thing that anyone's ever done for me. It sounds a bit bizarre, but things the way they are, I feel as if another life's begun for me."
The crowd joined in with the next verse, Creek thrusting his hands in the air and clapping along with the beat. Scrooge began to enjoy the musical number and bob along with the beat. "And if I had a cannon, I would fire it, to add a sort of celebration touch. But since I left my cannon at home, I'll simply have to say..."
"Thank you very, very, very much!" Scrooge sang with the crowd.
Creek joined back in with the Trolls singing. "Thank you very, very, very much! Thank you very much! Thank you very much! That's the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me. It isn't every day good fortune comes my way. I never thought the future would be fun for me. And if I had a bugle I would blow it, to add a sort of 'ow's-your-father touch. But since I left my bugle at home, I'll simply have to say, thank you very, very, very much!"
"For he's a jolly good fellow!" half the crowd sang.
"For he's a jolly good fellow!" the other half repeated.
"And so say all of us..." Creek sang by himself, hyping the crowd to continue.
"Thank you very much!" the crowd sang.
"Thank you very much!" Creek echoed.
"Thank you very much!" the crowd sang again.
"That's the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me." Creek sang again. He began singing every other line, after the other Trolls. "Thank you very much!"
"The future looks bright."
Thank you very much!"
"In fact, it looks so bright."
"Thank you very much!"
"I feel as if they're polishing the sun for me."
"Thank you very much!"
"Thank you very much!"
"Thank you very, very, very, very much!" Creek added his own voice in with the Trolls again. "And if I had a drum, I'd have to bang it, to add a sort of rumty-tumpty touch. But since I left my drum at home, I'll simply have to say thank you very, very, very much! Thank you very, very, very much!"
"Who are they celebrating?" Scrooge asked again, this time, in a much happier mood. The ghost pointed outside the village, through the dark woods. "Through the...woods?" Scrooge asked, uncertain.
The worm 'mewed' again. Scrooge gulped and followed the ghost's finger.
After a short time, they came to a foggy hill, small flowers sticking out of the ground in different places, but placed orderly. "The-the graveyard?" Scrooge asked.
The kids gasped. "The graveyard?" a Rock Troll kid asked.
"That's right!" Poppy replied. "The graveyard!" she said, twiddling her fingers mysteriously.
"Why the graveyard?" the Funk kid asked.
"You'll have to keep listening to find out!" Poppy paused. "Unless you're scared." The kids didn't answer. "We can quit now!" Poppy said, slamming the book shut.
"W-wait! I want to hear!" the purple Pop Troll kid answered quickly.
"M-me too!" the Classic kid agreed.
"Me three!" the Rock Troll kid exclaimed.
Soon, all the kids were agreeing with the statement. "Okay! We'll finish!" Poppy said. "If you get scared, you can hug each other!"
The ghost didn't answer, but instead, pointed at a dark blue flower sticking out of the ground. Scrooge hesitated, looked back at the ghost, who didn't put his hand down, back at the flower, and slowly walked towards it. Scrooge walked a few steps and pointed to the flower next to him. The ghost put his hand down and approached Scrooge. He put the worm on his shoulder, and extended his arms. Scrooge tried to run, but wasn't fast enough before the ghost wrapped his arms around him, picked him up off the ground, and hugged him.
"I-it's not Hug Time yet," Scrooge said. The ghost just hugged him tighter. "You're hugging really tight," Scrooge hinted. The ghost didn't let go. "I...can't...breathe...!" Scrooge managed through gasps of air.
The ghost quickly put him back down on the ground, pat his head, and grabbed his worm again. He then pointed at the flower in front of Scrooge. Scrooge looked at the blue flower again, looked back at the ghost, then walked towards the flower, again, slowly.
He stopped in front of the flower again. "Can't you just tell me?" Scrooge begged. The ghost's finger never moved. Scrooge gulped and knelt down in the snow. He put his hand on the leaf at the foot of the flower and wiped some snow off. 'Scrooge.'
He looked at the ghost. "Please, tell me whose this is!" he pleaded. No response. He just cinitnued to point at the flower. Scrooge turned back to the half uncovered leaf and wiped off the rest of the snow. 'Ebenezer Scrooge.' Scrooge held back his tears and ran to the ghost.
"Please! Tell me it's not true! Tell me they weren't singing over me!" The ghost didn't answer, but instead, put his hand down. "Please!" he pleaded. He got to his knees and grabbed the ghost's robe. "Please! Tell me it's not true!" The ghost reached his hand down and pat Scrooge on the back.
Scroge began sobbing into the ghost's robe. "It's not true! It can't be!" he cried. The ghost pat him once more. "Please!"
With that, Scrooge fell down, onto something surprisingly soft.