Episode 30:
Ranma's Christmas Carol
Part 3

A Christmas Carol
provided courtesy of Charles Dickens

OUR PLAYERS:
DAVID KAYE as Soun Tendo/Ebenezer Scrooge
GARY CHALK as Genma Saotome/Jacob Marley
KEN SANSOM as Sasuke Sarugakure/Bob Cratchit
RICHARD IAN COX as Ranma Saotome/Nephew Fred
CATHY WESELUCK as Atsuko Shirogane/Belle
JILLIAN MICHAELS as Shippo/Tiny Tim (from InuYasha)
DAVE "SQUATCH" WARD as Alan Invader/Fezziwig
LILIANA MUMY as Lum Invader/Mrs. Cratchit
TERRY KLASSEN as as Mr. Fuyuki [The Director] and Mr. Masao [his Assistant]
MARK HILDRETH as Akimitsu
MYRIAM SIROIS as Akane
ANGELA COSTAIN as Nabiki
TERRY MACGOVERN as Jinn
WILLOW JOHNSON as Kasumi Tendo/Ghost of Christmas Past
MICHAEL DOBSON as Kenma Saotome/Ghost of Christmas Present
SAFFRON HENDERSON as Tsubasa Kurenai/Ghost of Christmas Future

And now...the Conclusion!

As the curtain rose back up, Scrooge had finally come face to face [or lack thereof] with the third ghost.

"A-Are you the ghost of Christmas future?" he asked the phantom.

The Spirit didn't answer but pointed forward with its hand.

"You're going to show me glimpses of things that haven't happened yet, but will in the future," Scrooge continued. "Is that right, Spirit?"

The top part of the cloak briefly moved, as if the Spirit had nodded. That was the only response he got.

Although used to ghosts by now, Scrooge was so afraid of this silent figure that his legs trembled, and he could barely stand as he got ready to follow. The Spirit paused, seemingly noticing his condition and giving him time to compose himself.

But this made Scrooge even more anxious. Knowing that behind the dark cloak were ghostly eyes fixed on him, while he could only see a spectral hand and a black mass, sent shivers down his spine.

"Ghost of the Future!" he exclaimed, "I fear you more than any ghost I've encountered. But since I know your intention is to help me, and I hope to change for the better, I'm ready to accompany you with a grateful heart. Won't you speak to me?"

The Spirit remained silent, pointing straight ahead.

"Lead the way!" said Scrooge. "Lead the way! The night is passing quickly, and time is precious to me. Lead on, Spirit!"

The Ghost moved away as silently as it had approached. Scrooge followed in its shadowy presence, feeling as if the cloak was carrying him along.

They barely seemed to enter the city; instead, it felt like the city arose around them. However, they found themselves in the heart of it, at the Exchange among the merchants.

The Spirit stopped near a small group of businessmen. Seeing the Spirit's hand pointing towards them, Scrooge moved closer to listen to their conversation.

"No," said a large man with a big chin, "I don't know much about it either way. I just know he's dead."

"When did he pass away?" asked another.

"Last night, I believe."

"Why? What happened to him? I thought he'd live forever."

"God knows," said the first with a yawn.

"What did he do with his money?" asked a red-faced gentleman.

"I haven't heard," replied the man with the large chin. "Maybe left it to his company. He hasn't left any for me. That's all I know. Goodbye!"

At first, Scrooge was surprised that the Spirit paid attention to such seemingly insignificant conversations. However, he felt that there must be a hidden purpose behind it and pondered what it might be. It couldn't be related to Jacob's death, his old partner, as that was in the past, and this Ghost focused on the future.

He looked around in that very spot for his own reflection but saw another man in his usual spot. Although the clock showed his usual time to be there, he saw no likeness of himself among the crowds entering through the doorway. This didn't surprise him much because he had been contemplating a change in his life and hoped to see his new resolutions reflected here.

They left the bustling scene and went to a quiet part of town, to a low shop where iron, old rags, bottles, bones, and greasy waste were traded. A gray-haired rascal of great age sat smoking his pipe.

As Scrooge and the Phantom entered, a woman with a heavy bundle sneaked in. But before she could fully enter, another woman with a similar load followed, closely trailed by a man in faded black. After a moment of surprise, during which the old man with the pipe joined them, they all burst into laughter.

"Let the cleaning lady go first!" exclaimed the first woman. "Let the washerwoman go second, and let the undertaker's assistant go last. Look here, old Joe, what a coincidence! We all met here without planning it!"

Another round of laughter.

"Has someone passed away, Spirit?" asked Scrooge with a solemn voice.

The spirit held up a hand, as if telling Scrooge to clam up and listen.

"You couldn't have met in a better place. You've been coming here for ages, and the other two aren't strangers. What are you selling? What do you have to offer?"

"Just wait a moment, Joe, and you'll see."

"It doesn't matter! What does it matter, Mrs. Dilber?" said the woman. "Everyone has to take care of themselves. That's what he always did! Who's worse off because of losing a few things like these? Not a dead man, I suppose."

Mrs. Dilber, who was always trying to please, agreed, "No, indeed, ma'am."

"If he wanted to keep them after he died, that miserly old man, why didn't he act that way when he was alive? If he had, he'd have had someone to look after him when Death came, instead of lying there gasping his last breath alone."

"That's the truth, a judgment on him."

"I wish it was a heavier judgment, and it should have been, if I could have found anything else. Open that bundle, old Joe, and tell me what it's worth. Be honest. I'm not ashamed to be first or for them to see it."

Joe kneeled down to open the bundle more easily and pulled out a large and heavy roll of dark material.

"What's this? Bed curtains!"

"Yes! Bed curtains! Don't spill oil on the blankets now."

"His blankets?"

"Whose else's do you think? He's not going to catch a cold without them, I suppose. Ah! You can search that shirt until your eyes hurt, but you won't find a hole or a worn-out spot. It's the best he had, and a good one too. They would have wasted it by dressing him in it if it weren't for me."

The woman laughed as old Joe counted out their profits from the money bag on the ground. "This is how it ends, you see! He scared everyone away when he was alive, only for us to profit when he's dead! Ha, ha, ha!"

"Ghost!" exclaimed Scrooge, trembling all over. "I understand now. This poor man's situation could be mine. My life is heading that way now. Merciful Heavens, what is this!"

He recoiled in terror as the scene changed, and now he was almost touching a bed: a plain, uncovered bed. Beneath a tattered sheet lay something covered up, which, though silent, spoke volumes.

The room was very dark, too dark to see clearly, but Scrooge glanced around, compelled by a hidden urge to know more about the room. A faint light from outside fell directly on the bed; on it, abandoned and uncared for, lay the body of this man.

Scrooge looked at the Phantom. Its steady hand pointed towards the head of the bed. The sheet was so carelessly placed that the slightest movement from Scrooge would reveal the face. He thought about it, felt how easy it would be to do, and wished to do it; but he couldn't lift the veil any more than he could dismiss the specter by his side.

"Oh cold, cold, unyielding Death, make your presence known here, and adorn your altar with all the horrors at your disposal, for this is your realm!" boomed Mr. Masao. "But you cannot distort the beloved, respected, and honored head, nor can you make any feature repulsive. It's not that the hand is heavy and will fall when released, or that the heart and pulse are still; it's that the hand was open, generous, and honest; the heart courageous, warm, and compassionate; and the pulse that of a man. Strike, Shadow, strike! And witness the good deeds springing forth from the wound, spreading life immortal in the world!"

"No voice spoke these words in Scrooge's ears, yet he heard them when he looked at the bed. He wondered, if this man could be brought back now, what would be his foremost thoughts? Greed, harsh dealings, burdensome worries? They led him to a wealthy end indeed!"

"If anyone in the town feels sorrow over this man's death," Scrooge said, deeply distressed, "show that person to me, Spirit, please!"

The Phantom briefly spread its dark robe before him like a wing, and then withdrew it, revealing a room in daylight where a mother and her children were.

She was expecting someone with anxious eagerness, pacing the room, starting at every sound, peeking out from the window, checking the clock, trying but failing to focus on her needlework, and finding it hard to bear the sounds of the children playing.

Finally, the long-awaited knock came. She hurried to the door and greeted her husband, a man whose face showed weariness and sadness despite his youth. There was a strange expression on his face now, a mix of serious joy that he felt ashamed of and tried to hide.

He sat down to the dinner she had prepared for him by the fire. When she weakly asked him for news (after a long silence), he seemed unsure how to respond.

"Is it good news?" she asked, trying to help.

"Bad," he replied.

"Are we completely ruined?"

"No. There's still hope, Caroline."

"If he changes his mind," she said, surprised, "then there is hope! Nothing is beyond hope if such a miracle occurs."

"He won't change his mind," her husband said. "He's passed away."

She was a gentle and patient person, if her face revealed the truth, but she was inwardly relieved to hear it and expressed gratitude with clasped hands. She quickly prayed for forgiveness for her reaction, but her initial emotion was true to her heart.

"What the half-drunk woman I told you about last night said to me, when I tried to see him and ask for a week's extension, which I thought was just an excuse to avoid me, turns out to be true. He wasn't just ill; he was dying then."

"Who will our debt be transferred to?"

"I don't know. But by that time, we'll have the money ready. Even if we didn't, it would be terrible luck to have such a merciless creditor in his successor. We can sleep tonight with light hearts, Caroline!"

Indeed, despite their efforts to soften it, their hearts felt lighter. The children, gathered around quietly to hear what they didn't quite understand, seemed happier, and the house felt more cheerful with this man's passing. The only emotion the Ghost could show Scrooge related to this event was one of satisfaction.

"Show me some tenderness associated with death," said Scrooge. "Otherwise, that dark scene we just witnessed will haunt me forever, Spirit."

The Ghost led him through familiar streets, but Scrooge couldn't find himself anywhere. They entered Bob Cratchit's modest home, the one Scrooge had visited before, and found the mother and children sitting around the fire.

"'And he took a child, and set him in the midst of them.'"

Where had Scrooge heard those words? He hadn't dreamt them; the boy must have read them aloud as he and the Spirit entered. Why didn't he continue?

The mother set down her work and covered her face with her hand.

"The color hurts my eyes," she said.

The color? Ah, poor Tiny Tim!

"They're better now. It strains them in candlelight; I wouldn't show weak eyes to your father when he gets home, not for anything. He must be almost here."

"Actually, he's late," Peter said, closing his book. "But I've noticed he's been walking a bit slower these past few evenings, mother."

"I remember when he used to carry Tiny Tim on his shoulder, walking very fast indeed."

"So do I," Peter agreed. "Many times."

"And me too," added another. They all remembered.

"But Tiny Tim was so light, and his father loved him so much that it was no trouble at all," the mother said. "No trouble. And here's your father at the door!"

She hurried to greet him, and little Bob, bundled up in his scarf – he needed it, poor fellow – came in. His tea was waiting for him on the stove, and everyone tried to help him to it. Then the two younger Cratchits sat on his knees, each resting a cheek against his face as if to say, "Don't worry, father. Don't be sad!"

Bob was cheerful with them, speaking kindly to the whole family. He looked at the work on the table, praising Mrs. Cratchit and the girls for their industry and speed. He said they'd finish long before Sunday.

"Sunday! You went today, Robert?"

"Yes, my dear," Bob replied. "I wish you could have come. It would have been good for you to see how green and peaceful it is. But you'll see it often. I promised I would take him there on Sundays. My little, little child! My little child!"

He couldn't hold back his tears. If he could have, perhaps he and his child wouldn't have been so close.

To say everyone was astonished by Sasuke's acting talent would be an understatement. But this was no mere acting—he was pulling from his experience as a servant to the Kuno household. He'd wanted to cry for years, and this was his chance to let it out.

"Spirit," said Scrooge, "I sense that our time together is ending soon. I feel it, but I don't understand how. Can you tell me who that man was, the one with the covered face, whom we saw lying dead?"

The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come led him to a dismal, desolate, dilapidated churchyard. As they walked among the gravestones, they saw two grave-robbers digging around a nearby hole.

"I've never seen a funeral like this one," said the first.

"Indeed," his friend agreed. "No mourners, no friends to bid him farewell…truly, this man has led a sad, empty life."

They were silent for a time before the first grave-robber shrugged. "Oh, well," he replied. "Let's rest 'im in the hole and fill it in. He ain't goin' nowhere!"

And they both laughed as they left the graveyard.

Now, Scrooge was beginning to grow apprehensive. He went over and peered down into the hole. "Spirit…whose lonely grave IS this?" he asked.

Striking a match, the spirit lowered it down to show the etching on the gravestone. In big, block letters, it read: EBENEZER SCROOGE.

"Why, YOURS, Ebenezer…" the spirit finally spoke, its voice deep and black. "The richest man in the CEMETERY!"

And it let out a booming laugh as the hood fell back, revealing Tsubasa's cackling face.

Scrooge cried out, kneeling before the grave, "Was that man lying in the bed…me?!"

"Yup," sneered Tsubasa as he plucked Soun off the ground, holding him over the hole.

"No, Spirit! Oh, no, no!" wailed Soun, his voice trembling in fear.

Tsubasa couldn't help but enjoy himself here, as he laughed long and hard.

"Spirit!" he pleaded, clutching tightly at the robe sleeve, "listen to me! I am not the person I used to be. I will not become that person I would have been without this experience. Why show me this if I am beyond all hope?"

For the first time, the hand seemed to tremble.

"Kind Spirit," he continued, falling to the ground before it, "Your nature shows compassion for me. Assure me that I still have the chance to change these dark visions you've shown me, by living a different life!"

The gentle hand shook slightly.

"I will honor Christmas in my heart and keep its spirit alive all year. I will embrace the Past, the Present, and the Future. The lessons of all Three Spirits will guide me. Please, tell me I can erase the words on this gravestone!"

Beneath Scrooge's feet, the casket at the bottom of the hole started to open up, glowing yellow-red as it belched smoke and flames!

"Alas, it may not be too late. For if you wish to change your fate," Tsubasa began as he dropped Scrooge into the hole. "Mend your ways, and mend them fast…or this Christmas day will be your last!"

Down, down, down, tumbled Scrooge as he drew closer and closer to the hole, screaming in horror…

BAM!

And then...silence.

As Scrooge opened his eyes, he saw that the robe he had clutched was now…a curtain.

Scrooge realized that he was in his own bedroom, in his own house. What was even better and happier, the time ahead of him was his own to make amends!

His joy was interrupted by the vibrant ringing of church bells, the liveliest peals he had ever heard. Rushing to the window, he threw it open and stuck his head out. No fog, no mist, no darkness; just a clear, bright, lively, golden day.

"You there, boy!" he called down to a boy in Sunday attire who happened to be passing by.

"Eh?"

"What day is it, my good lad?"

"Today? Why, CHRISTMAS DAY."

"It's Christmas day! I haven't missed it," he beamed to himself before sticking his head out again. "Hello, my good lad!"

"Hello!"

"Do you know the Poulterer's shop, in the next street but one, at the corner?"

"I should hope I do."

"A smart boy! An exceptional boy! Do you know if they've sold the prize Turkey that was hanging there? Not the small one, but the big one?"

"The one as big as me?"

"What a splendid lad! It's a pleasure to talk to you. Yes, that's the one!"

"It's still there."

"Is it? Go and buy it."

"You're pulling my leg!" the boy exclaimed.

"No, no, I'm serious. Go buy it, and tell them to bring it here. I'll give you the directions. Come back with the man, and I'll give you a shilling. Come back in less than five minutes, and I'll give you half a crown!"

The boy darted off like lightning.

"I'll send it to Bob Cratchit's! He won't know who sent it," whispered Scrooge, rubbing his hands together. "It's twice the size of Tiny Tim!"

Although his hand was trembling, he managed to write the address and went downstairs to open the front door, ready for the arrival of the poulterer's delivery man.

What a Turkey it was! It could hardly stand on its own legs; they would snap like sticks of sealing wax.

Scrooge dressed in his best clothes and finally went out into the streets. The people were already out, just like he had seen with the Ghost of Christmas Present. Walking with his hands behind his back, Scrooge looked at everyone with a happy smile. He seemed so pleasant that three or four friendly people greeted him with, "Good morning, sir! Merry Christmas!"

He hadn't gone far when he saw the portly gentleman approaching, the same one who had visited his office the day before and asked, "Scrooge and Marley's, I believe?" It pained him to think how this man might view him now, but he knew the right thing to do, and he did it.

"My dear sir," exclaimed Scrooge, quickening his pace and taking the gentleman's hands. "How do you do? I hope everything went well for you yesterday. Your kindness was greatly appreciated. A merry Christmas to you, sir!"

"Mr. Scrooge?"

"Yes," replied Scrooge. "That's my name, and I understand if it's not a pleasant one for you. Please accept my apologies. And would you be so kind"—here Scrooge whispered to him.

"Good heavens!" exclaimed the gentleman, clearly surprised. "Mr. Scrooge, are you serious?"

"If you please," said Scrooge. "Not a penny less. There are many overdue payments included. Will you grant me that favor?"

"My dear sir," said the gentleman, shaking hands warmly. "I don't know how to thank you for such generosity—"

"Don't say anything," interrupted Scrooge. "Just come and visit me. Will you?"

"I certainly will!" declared the old gentleman, showing his intention to do so.

"Thank you," said Scrooge sincerely. "I appreciate it greatly. Bless you!"

He went to church, strolled around the streets, observed the bustling activity of people, interacted with children, spoke to beggars, peered into the kitchens and windows of houses, and discovered that everything brought him joy. He had never imagined that a walk or anything else could bring him such happiness.

In the afternoon, he headed towards his nephew's house.

He passed by the door several times before gathering the courage to knock. But he finally did it.

"Is your master home, my dear?" Scrooge asked the girl. She was a nice girl.

"Yes, sir."

"Where is he, dear?"

"He's in the dining room, sir, with his wife."

"He knows me," said Scrooge, already touching the dining room door. "I'll go in."

"Fred!"

"Why, goodness!" exclaimed Fred. "Who's that?"

"It's me. Your uncle Scrooge. I've come for dinner. Will you let me in, Fred?"

"Let him in! He's lucky I didn't shake his arm off."

He was inside in five minutes. Everything was lively. His niece looked the same. So did Topper when he arrived. So did the plump sister. Everyone looked great. It was a wonderful party with games, unity, and happiness!

The next morning, he was early at the office. He wanted to be there first and catch Bob Cratchit arriving late. That was his plan.

And he did it. The clock struck nine. No Bob. A quarter past. Still no Bob. Bob was eighteen and a half minutes late. Scrooge sat with his door wide open to watch him enter.

Bob took off his hat and scarf before opening the door and hurried to his desk, writing as if he was trying to catch up to nine o'clock.

"Hello!" grumbled Scrooge, trying to sound like himself. "What's the meaning of being here at this time?"

"I'm sorry, sir. I'm late."

"Yes, you are. Come this way."

"It's only once a year, sir. It won't happen again. I was celebrating yesterday, sir."

"Now, listen. I won't tolerate this anymore. That's why..." Scrooge continued, jumping up and giving Bob a playful shove, "I'm going to raise your salary!"

Bob was startled and moved closer to his ruler. "A-are you alright, Mister Scrooge?" he asked.

"Me? Why, I've never felt better! Merry Christmas, Bob!" said Scrooge sincerely as he patted him on the back. "A happier Christmas than I've given you in years! I'll increase your pay, help your family, and we'll talk about it this afternoon over some Christmas punch, Bob! Get the fires going and buy another coal scuttle before you do anything else, Bob Cratchit!"

Bob's eyes were wet with tears of joy. "Oh, Mister Scrooge…!" he sobbed as he hugged the man.

"Scrooge not only kept his promise but went above and beyond; to Tiny Tim, who didn't die, he became like a second father," said Mr. Masao, as Scrooge gave Tiny Tim a piggyback ride. "He became a good friend, a good employer, and an overall good person, admired by the city and beyond. Some people laughed at his transformation, but he paid little attention to them, knowing that good deeds often face initial skepticism. He had no further intercourse with Spirits, but lived upon the Total Abstinence Principle, ever afterwards; and it was always said of him, that he knew how to keep Christmas well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge. May that be truly said of us, and all of us! And so, as Tiny Tim observed…"

"God Bless Us, everyone!" Shippo exclaimed, as the entire cast came out to thunderous applause and they all took a bow.

"We did pretty well, didn't we?" commented Kenma.

"Yup!" agreed Ranma.

"Everyone!" called Soun. "I have an announcement to make!"

"Oh, boy, this should be good," Nabiki groaned, thinking the worst.

"What is it, father?" Kasumi asked with genuine curiosity.

"For too long, I've been holding back on everyone," said Soun. "But now, I've decided to take a more proactive approach on resolving one of the biggest issues in our home."

"Uh-oh…I don't like where this is going," mused Kenma.

"Do you mean what I think you're saying?" Genma asked in shock.

"Indeed, my old friend, it's been pushed back for far too long," responded Soun. "And this play made me realize it."

"You really mean it?" Genma asked with eager joy in his voice.

"Yes my old friend, it's time." Soun declared as he looked at his family and the residents of the dojo. "It's time…I get back into the dating game!"

"For Ranma and Akane to finally get—wait what?" Genma began before he heard what Soun declared.

"Oh, Father! That's splendid!" beamed Kasumi. "You have my support!"

"Got to admit, didn't see that coming," mused Nabiki. "But maybe if Dad has some company in the sack, he'll loosen up."

"Boom! Next season's sequel hook!" exclaimed Kenma. "Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, a Festivus for the rest of us, and SEE YOU NEXT YEAR!"

"Hey, wait, what about—" exclaimed Akane.

"Sorry, can't hear you! Roll credits!" shouted Kenma. "Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel! Born is the King of Israel!~"

"I'm on it!" Jinn shouted as he used his genie magic to start the end credits.

And with the cast performing The First Noel, we here in the Ranmaverse wish you all a Merry Christmas, and all those other holidays too.

Aw, yeah! We finally got Book 2 done after some time! So it wasn't July...would you have REALLY wanted to wait that long for it to be finished? I doubt it.

And now, you have context for the next chapter of Book 3 [at the time this is being published]!

So, we'll see you there, and Happy Holidays!

Please read and review, if'n it ain't too much trouble, okay?