Merry Christmas, ghosts and ghouls! And welcome to...yet another retelling of "A Christmas Carol"! Which just so happens to be our next parallel between Molly and Casper: both have episodes that parody the classic Dickens story. But then again, that shouldn't be a surprise. They're both shows about ghosts after all, it's only natural their Christmas episodes would feature the most famous holiday ghost story of all time.
So, thoughts on this episode? It's alright. I honestly prefer the Hanukkah episode to this one, because let's face it. "A Christmas Carol" has been rehashed to death. But like I said, it's understandable since this show is about ghosts and there aren't really any other Christmas stories featuring ghosts. I guess it was kinda cool to get some character development for Mr. Davenport, even though unlike his daughter, he doesn't actually grow from it. Also, this is probably just because I've become obsessed with "Rock-Paper-Scissors" (the Nickelodeon show, not the game) these past few months, but I can only hear Paper when he talks. Is it just me? Eh, it's probably just me.
Anyway, even though the episode was just okay to me, I had a lot of fun rewriting it. In fact, those with a keen sense of detail may notice plenty of references to the "Casper" Christmas episode that were snuck in. And by that, I mean people who have actually seen that episode will notice them. So, if you haven't seen that episode, you may want to watch it before reading. Not because it's necessary to understand the context of the chapter, but because it's genuinely a good watch. Heck, all of the series is a good watch and I think everyone should see it. Seriously. Go watch it. Whatever episodes you can find, really, it doesn't matter. I just want more people to watch it. It needs more love. It really does.
...Okay, here we go!
Stretch, Stinkie, & Fatso: Muahahahahahaaaa!
Molly: Can't believe you're all mine
Fatso: Uh, what?
Molly: You and me for all time
Stretch: No way!
Molly: I'm never, ever, EVER gonna be alone again
Stinkie: This stinks!
Molly: It's just you three and me
Fatso: For all eternity?!
Molly: For all ETERNITY!
Stretch, Stinkie, & Fatso: NOOOO!
Molly & Ghostly Trio: It's the Ghost-Ghostly Trio and Molly McGee
Fatso: We've been cursed!
Stinkie: It's the worst!
Molly: Now you're stuck with me
Molly & Ghostly Trio: We're never gonna be apart
Stretch: Is there a way to hit 'restart'?
Molly: Nope!
Molly & Ghostly Trio: We're the Ghost-Ghostly Trio and Molly McGee
Molly: That's me!
Stinkie: Well, that's she. Hee, hee, hee!
Molly & Ghostly Trio: Ghostly Trio and Molly McGee!
Fatso: Oh yeah!
Chapter 22
Scary and Bright
The Festival of Lights may have come to an end, but the holiday season was still going strong in Brighton. Christmas was right around the corner and to celebrate its arrival, all of the citizens, including Molly and the McGees, gathered in the park for the annual Snowflake Celebration, a festival everyone loved and was truly looking forward to. Well, all except for three particular cantankerous ghosts…
"C'mon, fellas!" Pete encouraged the Ghostly Trio. "You'll have a great time, I promise! Just give it a chance! Please?"
Sharon, meanwhile, was tugging on the three phantoms as they clung desperately to a telephone pole.
"No way!" Stretch refused. "We ain't goin'! You'll never take us alive!"
"Only 'cause we're already dead." Fatso pointed out, earning a slap in the face by Stretch's tail.
Molly smirked. "Guys? I feel I should remind you that it might be easier and less painful to fly to the bandshell yourself instead of having the curse do it for you."
The Trio reluctantly let go and followed the McGees down the street.
"Fine. But why do we gotta do this anyway?" Stretch whined.
"Yeah, you know we hate this time of year!" Stinkie added.
"How could anyone hate Christmas?" Sharon wondered. "It's a day of joy, love, peace, and coming together as friends and family."
"Ya just answered yer own question." Stretch replied. "If there's one thing we can't stand, it's that 'warm, fuzzy togetherness' stuff."
"And pretty presents." Fatso mentioned in a mocking tone.
"And don't even get us started on the smell of Christmas trees and chestnuts roastin'. Pew!" Stinkie gagged.
"C'mon, you were skeptical about Hanukkah, too." Molly reminded them. "And yet, you ended up liking that."
"Only 'cause it was somethin' we knew nothin' about beforehand." Stretch insisted. "We already know all there is to know about Christmas and there ain't one good thing about it."
"Yeah! Not one!" Fatso chimed in. "Um…well…except the cookies. I could eat a hundred of those gingerbread men. Now that I think about it, there's a lot of good treats that come around this time of year. Like the candy canes, the eggnog, the hot cocoa with marshmallows and whipped cream…Ya can't go wrong with snickerdoodles either. They're the sassiest of all the cookies. Then there's mince pies, yule logs, stollen-"
"Oh, put a stocking in it!" Stinkie demanded.
When the McGees made it to the bandshell, there was a huge Christmas tree set up on stage. Mayor Brunson stood beside it, along with a big switch connected to the tree.
"Welcome everyone," the mayor greeted into a microphone. "To the annual Snowflake Celebration! And may I add that, as your mayor, I've personally made sure that our tree is a full two inches taller than Perfektborg's this year!"
The citizens cheered upon hearing this, prompting the Trio to cover their ears.
"No! Not that!" Stinkie pleaded. "Anything but the sound of merriment!"
"Right?" Fatso agreed. "Next thing ya know, they'll start beltin' out one of those horrible carols! And as someone who normally enjoys bad, tasteless music, it's sayin' somethin' if even I hate it!"
"Boys, we gotta do somethin' about this holiday spirit," Stretch claimed. "Otherwise, our jobs will be on the line! Not to mention our sanity."
"So what can we do?" Stinkie questioned.
"What we do best!" Stretch answered. "Let's turn these skin sacks' holiday cheer into holiday fear!"
"HAHAHAHA!"
With that, the Trio took possession of the mayor's switch right when he was about to give it a push.
"And now, without further ado, let's light this baby!" the mayor flipped the switch, turning the tree's lights on.
"Oh, we'll light it all right…" Stretch whispered to his brothers. "Heh, heh, heh!"
Using their ghostly powers, the Trio sent a surge of electricity through the power cord and the next thing the townsfolk of Brighton knew, the tree's lights had burst, leaving the gorgeous evergreen completely bare.
"Uh…no one panic!" the mayor informed the audience.
That's when the tree burst into flames, much to everyone's horror.
"EEEEE!"
The people screamed and ran away as the burning tree toppled off the stage and crashed into Santa's Workshop, where Weird Larry was cosplaying as the jolly holiday icon with his pet skunk Vera. The two of them were launched into the air and ended up landing on top of a donation box across the road. But the chaos didn't end there.
"Look out, Brighton!" Stinkie warned while picking up Vera. "Jack Frost ain't the only thing that'll be nippin' at yer nose this year! Hee, hee, hee!"
The smelly spirit squeezed Vera's belly, causing her to spray her horrible scent over Larry and the charity workers. The gas cloud was so thick, nobody could see what was in front of them, causing one of the bell ringers to bump into a lamp post and create another electric surge that ended up setting the lights and wreaths they were holding aflame. After that, the lights at city hall went out and the reindeer display sitting atop the building fell down and crashed into the middle of the street. Then the reindeer caught fire. And then Auntie Maimed's tribute statue did. And then the water tower. There were so many fires, in fact, that an astronaut swore he could see smoke coming off the planet while he was floating through space.
Molly was horrified.
"What?! No, it can't be!" she ran up onstage to the ruined tree.
The Trio, meanwhile, reappeared behind the other McGees and snickered to themselves. Sharon gave them suspicious glares, having already figured out they had something to do with this.
"This old girl's not done!" Molly attempted to lift up the remains of the poor tree. "She just needs a little Christmas magic! We can put her back together-"
At that moment, the tree turned into a pile of ash.
"-easily…" Molly frowned, but then smiled again. "Wait! Why don't we just buy more decorations?"
"We can't." Mayor Brunson explained. "All the budget went into that stupid two-inch-taller tree." he turned to the crowd. "I'm sorry, everyone. But…I'm afraid the Snowflake Celebration, like our town's happiness…is canceled…"
In an instant, the citizens' jolly faces turned to ones of gloom and despair. With their precious festival no longer happening, they felt they had no choice but to leave and go home. Molly could see a few kids with disappointed tears in their eyes, which almost brought them to her own.
"No…no, no, no, no…this is awful! The season of joy has become the season of misery! How could this have happened?"
She then heard the sound of laughter and looked above her. The Ghostly Trio were giving each other high-fives.
"Nice work, fellas!" Stretch complimented. "Way to wipe the grins off those festive fleshies!"
"Yep! No more disgustin' pine scent!" Stinkie observed. "Only the heavenly aroma of burnt wood with a hint of skunk spray." he took a breath and sighed happily.
Molly couldn't believe what she just heard. Needless to say, she was very angry.
"WHAT?! You three did this?!"
The Trio transformed into prisoners, complete with balls and chains.
"Guilty as charged!" Stretch confirmed.
"Caught us tinsel-handed!" Stinkie held out his hands, which were covered in pieces of metal foil.
"And we'd do it again!" Fatso admitted.
"You guys, how could you?!" Molly scolded.
The Trio ditched their prison uniforms.
"Well, it was pretty easy, actually." Stretch informed her. "First, we took over the mayor's switch thingy. Then-"
"No, that's not what I-" Molly pinched her forehead in frustration. "Argh! Why do you three always feel the need to spoil people's fun? I mean, just look around at the damage you've caused!" she pointed in the direction of a sad child holding the ashes of the destroyed Christmas tree. "Don't you have any guilt?"
"Hm…" Stretch scratched his chin. "…nope!"
"Nada!" Stinkie agreed.
"Well…" Fatso actually thought it over. "That depends. Will there still be cookies?"
Molly was stunned by this question. "Uh…probably?"
"Oh. In that case, I have absolutely no regrets!"
"Well, you should!" Molly argued. "But you know what? Guilt isn't important, because whether you like it or not, you guys are gonna help me fix this!"
"Whoa, whoa! Slow down, McGee!" Stretch snarked. "You should know by now that one of our biggest rules is: 'We don't fix things, we only break things.'"
"Oh really?" Molly smirked. "I can think of a few times where you ironically broke that rule."
Stretch became flustered. "Er, well…yeah! Exactly! We fixed stuff but at the same time, we broke our own rule, so it cancels out!"
"Well, looks like you're gonna be breaking that rule again, buster!" Molly squeezed Stretch's neck. "Because I won't let you off the hook until we fix Brighton's holiday spirit once and for all!"
Stretch slipped out of her grasp. "And how exactly are we gonna do that, smarty-skins?"
"Yeah, like the mayor said, he blew all the budget on that lousy tree and we certainly don't got no money!" Stinkie added. "We'd need someone stinkin' rich to be able to fix this! And I'm only half of that." he belched in Molly's face, much to her disgust.
"Hang on," she cleared the air. "I'll think of something…wait! What's that?"
She pointed into the distance and the Trio directed their eyes to where her finger was positioned.
"Uh…I think that's Weird Larry with his bum stuck in a charity bucket." Fatso noted.
"What? No! Look behind him!"
Molly gestured Larry to move and he did so. Standing behind the faux Santa Claus was Davenport's, the department store owned by the parents of Molly's on-and-off friend, Andrea Davenport.
"See? There it is! The solution to our problems! Okay, fellas! Follow me!"
"I'd like to see ya make us." Stretch threatened.
"Okay then." Molly shrugged. "Stretch, Stinkie, Fatso."
Upon the mention of their names, the Trio were forcefully pulled around Molly like a scarf.
"When are you ever gonna learn?" Stinkie asked Stretch.
"Aw, shuddup!"
Satisfied, Molly headed straight to the store. Once she arrived, the first thing she did was ask to speak with Mr. Davenport and to her elation, she was escorted to his office right away. After formally introducing herself, she promptly explained the situation to the businessman.
"So you see, Mr. Davenport, we can't let the Snowflake Celebration be canceled just because a couple of fun-hating punks ruined everything." she gave a side-eye to the Trio, who were invisible in the corner. "So please, will you donate your time, money, and resources, but mostly money, to save the celebration and enhappify your fellow Brightonians?"
Mr. Davenport turned around in his rolling chair. "Interesting question. Now here's one for you." he held out his phone. "Will this make me trend?"
"Yes sir!" Molly promised. "On both coasts and everywhere in between!"
"Okay, then." Mr. Davenport faced her once more. "In that case, my answer is…no! N-O, negative, not interested, forget it, hit the road Jack…do you get the picture?"
"What? But why?"
Mr. Davenport gently pushed Molly toward the door.
"I have a brand to protect. Davenport's Department Store does not hand out free joy. Especially not during this time of year. Like my father always said: 'Christmas is a time to make money, not merry!'"
"But-but-" Molly stammered as Mr. Davenport went to open the door for her. "Please, you have to think about this! We're talking about a Brighton tradition here!"
When Mr. Davenport opened his office's door, standing on the other side was his daughter, Andrea, holding a gift box.
"You should listen to her, Daddy." she begged.
"Andrea?" Molly was surprised and confused. "You agree with me?"
Andrea nodded. "I was gonna be this year's Snowflake Queen. Just like my mom was at my age." she showed a picture of her mother as a little girl, wearing a bright white gown and a tiara on her head, while also holding a bouquet of white roses in one hand and a huge, old-school telephone in the other. "…But…without the celebration, that can't happen…"
Andrea gave her dad the saddest doe-eyes she could manage. But Mr. Davenport didn't budge.
"Aw, that's okay, Button. You can just pick out a crown from our Halloween surplus and stage a photo to put on your socials. It'll be fun. Now if you'll excuse me, Daddy needs to go collect his employment tax from the tip jars. Bye now!"
And then, he slammed the door in his daughter's and Molly's faces. Frustrated, Andrea tossed the present she was holding and stormed off.
"Wow, that guy's a real jerk!" Stretch observed.
"I'd go so far as to say he's jerkier than us!" Stinkie claimed.
"Yeah! We gotta do somethin' about this!" Fatso concurred.
"Oh, we will. Don't worry." Stretch reassured his brothers. "He ain't gonna get away with this."
"Aww…you mean you won't let him get away with ruining the holiday?" Molly hoped.
"No. We won't let him get away with bein' a bigger jerk than we are! Clearly, we're gonna have to up our game here if we wanna stay at number one."
"I know!" Fatso suggested. "Maybe we could steal candy from little kids! Would that work?"
"Are you just suggestin' that 'cause ya want free candy?" Stinkie questioned.
"Maybe…"
Molly only groaned.
When she got home, the tween was still upset over being rejected.
"I can't believe he turned us down!" she ranted to her family. "This injustice will not stand!"
"Which injustice?" Sharon clarified. "Being denied charity?" she crushed the Trio's tails with her fist. "Or these three miscreants avoiding any sort of punishment?"
"Oh c'mon!" Stretch argued. "Yous guys can't seriously care all that much about some party honoring a stupid particle of frozen water! What good have snowflakes ever done anyway? Sure, they look pretty on their own, but the minute they pile up? Bam! The temp drops, the road is blocked off, and ya can't leave yer house without gettin' ambushed by snow at yer front door! They're nothin' but pains in the neck!"
"You mean, like this?" Sharon angrily squeezed the Trio's necks.
"Exactly!" Stretch choked.
Molly paced the floor. "There's gotta be a way to change Mr. Davenport's mind. Think, Molly, think!"
"Bah humbug!"
Molly whirled around upon hearing the familiar voice of Ebeneezer Scrooge on the television.
"That's it! 'A Christmas Carol'! If Mr. Davenport won't change on his own, then we'll convince him to change with a visit from the ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Future!" she scratched her chin, pretending to think. "Hm…now if only we had three super scary ghosts who'd be willing to play the parts?"
The Trio beamed and zipped over to Molly.
"Pick us! Pick us! Pick us!" all of them shouted.
"Oh really?" Molly teased. "You three would take the job?"
"In a heartbeat!" Stretch stated.
"In a New York minute!" Stinkie exclaimed.
"In-a-gadda-de-vida, baby!" Fatso belted out randomly, earning a slap from Stretch.
"Molly, no!" Sharon refused. "Don't let them do it! You know there's nothing they love more than scaring people. And after what they did, they don't deserve to be rewarded."
The Trio blew raspberries at Sharon.
"Don't worry, Mom." Molly whispered. "This'll be good for them. We're not just talking about redeeming Mr. Davenport here; we're talking about getting those three to learn the true spirit of Christmas and what can happen if it's taken away! Once they see the consequences of their nasty behavior, they'll have to let the holiday into their cold, dead hearts."
"Hm. Are you sure you wouldn't rather cover them in glitter and wrap them around a tree like tinsel?"
"Sorry, Mom. As funny as that sounds, I'd rather go with the moral and less messy option. Trust me. It's gonna work." Molly turned back to the Trio. "Okay, boys! If Mr. Davenport doesn't have any Christmas spirit, then we'll give him some! Three, to be exact."
"Ha, ha!" Fatso chuckled. "Get it? 'Spirit' is another word for 'ghost' and she-"
Stretch grabbed his lips. "We get it already."
Having come up with the perfect plan, Molly and the Trio wasted no time and flew down to the Davenport's mansion.
"Okay Stinkie," Molly instructed. "You're up first. Go in there and show him how wonderful the holiday season is!"
"Show 'im how odorful moldy cheese is?" Stinkie misinterpreted. "Okay! Whatever you say, Moll!"
"What? No, that's not what I-wah!"
Before Molly could correct him, Stinkie flew in through the Davenport's bedroom window, dropping Molly on the ground in the process.
Inside, Mr. Davenport and his wife were fast asleep in bed when the former was awoken by a terrible smell.
"Phew!" he coughed. "I really need to lay off the beans before bed."
Suddenly, a gas cloud blew in his face and he started to choke. When he opened his eyes, he nearly had a heart attack when he saw Stinkie floating over his bed.
"Wake up, Mr. Greedypants! I am the ghost of Christmas past!"
Mr. Davenport blinked in surprise before chuckling.
"Oh, I get it. This is a dream. And you must be a representation of the beans I ate coming back to haunt me. Which would explain the smell. How cute."
"Cute?!" Stinkie was offended. "You listen here, bub, I ain't cute and this ain't a dream neither! I'm here to take you back in time to when ya weren't such a jerk!"
"Ha, ha! Good luck with that." Mr. Davenport chuckled and turned over in his bed.
"Huh. Guess ya like doin' things the hard way. Fine by me!"
Stinkie took a breath and belched Mr. Davenport awake once more.
"C'mon, pal!" Stinkie lifted the businessman by the legs and carried him to the window. "It's time to see all the gas you passed…in the past! Up, up, and aroma! Hee, hee!"
Mr. Davenport screamed as he was forcefully dragged outside into the night air. Molly saw the two leaving and took out her walkie-talkie.
"Jingle Bell to Krampus. Scrooge is on the way!"
Eventually, Stinkie had flown Mr. Davenport all the way to Davenport's store and threw him into his office where Pete and Darryl were waiting for them.
"Ugh…" Mr. Davenport sat up. "Wait…is this my office? Why are we here?"
"Have you not been payin' attention?" Stinkie lectured. "This is a vision from yer past! See?" he pointed to Pete and Darryl, both of whom were dressed in 19th-century attire.
"Okay…" Mr. Davenport stared blankly. "You do know I grew up in the 1980s and not the 1890s, right?"
Molly popped out of a filing cabinet.
"Improvise!" she ordered to her dad and brother.
Pete hopped into Mr. Davenport's chair and started pretending to write with a feather quill.
"Rad Christmas, Daddy Davenport." Darryl ad-libbed. "Isn't it time for us tubular dudes to head to the Snowflake Celebration?"
Stinkie and Mr. Davenport exchanged glances; clearly, neither were impressed.
Pete stood on the desk. "Christmas be-eth the time to make money, not merry!"
"Whoa, take a chill pill, Daddy-o!" Darryl continued. "Who cares about money when you've got the totally radical Snowflake Celebration to go to? It's like the most gnarly celebration ever, dude!"
"Wow…" Mr. Davenport looked down sadly. "I can't believe I forgot how much I used to love that silly old festival and how happy it made me. Even though my family was having financial troubles, it wasn't enough to dampen my cheerful demeanor, because I still got to go to the celebration every year. Is this what you're trying to teach me, spirit? That my greed is getting in the way of me being truly happy?"
Molly beamed, believing her plan was already working.
"Nah." Stinkie denied. "This memory stinks! Well, actually, it doesn't. But I'll fix that!"
He flew out the office window and came back with Vera the skunk.
"Christmas smell-o-gram!"
He squeezed Vera's belly, letting loose yet another gas cloud. Pete and Darryl screamed and evacuated the building, which made both Stinkie and Mr. Davenport laugh.
"Boy, you had me worried for a sec." Mr. Davenport said relievedly. "I thought for sure you were about to give me some heart-wrenching lesson that would bring me to tears and convince me to change my ways."
"Nope!" Stinkie responded. "I don't do lessons! But I can still bring ya to tears."
He took out an onion and took a big bite. Afterwards, he blew his toxic breath in Mr. Davenport's face.
"Aaah!" he wailed. "My eyes!"
Molly facepalmed from the cabinet. "Okay, time for the next ghost…Fatso?"
Fatso appeared beside her. "I'm on it!"
When Mr. Davenport's eyes stopped watering, he noticed Fatso floating over him.
"Whoa…spirit, have you put on weight?"
"Nope! I'm the ghost of Christmas presents! So, where are mine?" Fatso joked.
"This night is just gonna keep getting weirder, isn't it?"
Rather than answering him, Fatso scooped Mr. Davenport up and flew him all the way to Molly's house. Upon arriving, they both entered through the chimney and landed in the living room, where Molly and Sharon were standing in front of a small, frankly pathetic-looking Christmas tree.
"Hm…now what's this?" Mr. Davenport wondered.
Sharon placed a single ornament on the sorry excuse for a decoration and it immediately fell apart.
"Oh, it's no use!" Sharon pretended to cry while hugging Molly. "I suppose we'll just have to rely on the Snowflake Celebration for all our Christmas cheer this year."
"But haven't you heard, Mother?" Molly whimpered. "The Snowflake Celebration was canceled because a bunch of holiday haters destroyed it!"
"Oh no! Who could be so heartless? So cruel? So downright despicable, rotten, uncaring, obnoxious, inconsiderate to the point you wanna send them back to their graves where they belong…"
Fatso rolled his eyes.
"Wow. A bit dramatic, don't you think?" Mr. Davenport asked.
"Tell me about it." Fatso nudged him. "This actin' is so bad, you'd think we were on the Disney channel or somethin'. Oh wait…" he suddenly realized. "Huh…well, anyway," he stretched out his arm and grabbed something from the kitchen. "Freshly-baked pecan pie?"
Mr. Davenport took a slice. "Don't mind if I do."
Fatso proceeded to devour the rest of it, including the tin.
"Hey!" Sharon couldn't keep up the act any longer. "That was for Christmas dinner!"
"'That was for Christmas dinner!'" Mr. Davenport imitated her before looking back at Fatso. "Sheesh, if you ask me, that should be the least of her worries. Just look at this dump! Scuffed floors, mismatched furniture, tacky throw pillows? Yuck! Who barfed those out?"
"Excuse me?!" Sharon was really angry now. "You come into my house and say that to me?! I'll deck your halls, buddy!"
While Molly held Sharon back, Fatso picked Mr. Davenport up and carried him out the window.
"Time to go!" he said before disappearing.
"That's it! This isn't working!" Sharon snarled. "I'm getting the glitter!"
"No, Mom!" Molly pleaded. "It's not over yet! We've still got one last ghost up our sleeve, remember? Victory will be ours soon enough! You could even say that it's 'yet to come'…"
And just like that, Molly was off like a rocket. She sprinted all the way to an abandoned tractor factory with a sign she had made herself and immediately started to hammer it up. Right as she was finishing up, Fatso arrived and dropped Mr. Davenport off in front of the sign, prompting her to hide.
Mr. Davenport sat up, not having noticed the sign yet, as his eyes were focused on yet another ghost he didn't recognize.
"Hiya, bone bag!" Stretch chortled.
"Hm, let me guess. We've already had the ghosts of past and present, so you must be the ghost of Christmas future. Right?"
"Good guess, flesh sack!"
Mr. Davenport scratched his head as he began to recall something. "Wait, aren't you supposed to be the one who doesn't speak?"
"And deprive you of my heavenly voice? No way! But lucky for you, I don't gotta say a word to show you…this!"
Stretch pushed Mr. Davenport's head in the direction of the sign. It was an advertisement for Davenport's Department Store and above it, written in red, were the words "Closed Forever."
"No…NOOOO!" Mr. Davenport fell to his knees and began to cry. "My business! My beautiful business!"
"We definitely got him this time!" Molly whispered, sliding a fake newspaper she had printed up toward Mr. Davenport's feet.
"Now what?" he sniveled, picking the paper up and reading the headline. "'Brighton's population reduced to zero'?! 'Former host of beloved Snowflake Celebration has now become a literal ghost town'?!"
Stretch peered over Mr. Davenport's shoulder.
"Whoa, really? This is what'll happen if that dumb festival doesn't go on? That is just…"
Molly beamed, hoping Stretch's guilt complex was finally triggered.
"…the best news ever!" Stretch finished, much to Molly's shock.
"Wait…it is?" Mr. Davenport stared at him, confused.
"Heck yeah! Do you have any idea how hard it is scarin' you bone bags year round? Sure, it's fun, but it's also a stressful job, ya know? With Brighton empty, that means no more monthly scare reports! No more meetin' misery quotas! No more wastin' whatever's left of my afterlife! Just sweet, sweet freedom! Woo! Now this is a future I can get behind!"
Molly groaned from her hiding place.
"Okay…" Mr. Davenport commented. "I don't know what any of that means. But what about my business shutting down? That's still terrible!"
Stretch put a hand around his shoulder. "Hey, you got money, don't ya? You can always build a bigger, even better business elsewhere! Preferably in some other town that's as far away from here as possible. I bet you'd make twice the dough you do now!"
Mr. Davenport thought it over. "…You know what, spirit? You're absolutely right! Who needs the Snowflake Celebration? Who needs Brighton? I can still be successful without either of them! In fact, you've convinced me! As soon as I'm awake, I'm packing everything up and moving to Perfektborg! I've heard they have the tallest Christmas trees this side of the country! Thanks, spirit! I've never been this happy since my ClikClok account got a thousand smileys! Best…dream…ever!"
Stretch waved as Mr. Davenport jovially ran off. That's when Molly came out of hiding.
"Well," she sighed. "I almost had you…"
"Huh?" Stretch raised an eyebrow.
"Er, we almost had him, I mean. Looks like there's no saving the Snowflake Celebration now…let's go home…"
Stretch patted her back. "That's the spirit, Moll! Or should I say, 'lack of spirit'? Heh, heh, heh!"
"Yeah, yeah. Very funny." Molly rolled her eyes gloomily.
With that, Stretch took the girl by the hand and flew her home, not noticing the sorrow that had overtaken her.
It was late by the time Molly and the Trio had arrived at the McGee household, as everyone else had gone to bed and the living room was dark, except for the dim light of the Christmas tree. Molly slumped onto the couch, a dark, dreary expression on her face.
"Well, so much for savin' that stupid Snowflake Celebration, huh?" Stretch boasted.
"Yeah, and so much for gettin' us to feel bad about ruinin' the festivities." Stinkie mentioned.
Molly sighed. "Yep…"
"Aw cheer up, Moll." Fatso encouraged. "It ain't like ya can't still have a big Christmas right at home!"
"Exactly! Who cares if the rest of the town's miserable?" Stretch claimed carelessly. "As long as ya got yer own holiday spirit, that's all that matters, right?"
Molly sat up sadly. "I don't know, you guys…I just don't think I can bring myself to have a good Christmas if nobody else will…"
"C'mon, don't be like that." Stinkie replied. "Tell ya what: since you let us have all that fun hauntin' Davenport, we'll let you do all the revoltin' holiday traditions you like."
"Yeah, you can even sing a few of those annoyin' carols!" Stretch promised. "Provided we get to perform some of our versions of 'em."
The Trio poofed up a book of sheet music and started singing.
"We wish you a scary Christmas, we wish you a scary Christmas, we wish you a scary Christmas and a happy BOO year…"
"What do ya think, kiddo?" Fatso inquired. "Sounds like a blast, don't it? And don't worry about us; we may despise all that 'comfort and joy' junk, but we'll put up with it for your sake. As long as there's cookies involved, that is."
Molly stood up from the couch and headed toward the stairs.
"Um…thanks, guys…but…truthfully, I don't feel like celebrating anymore…"
The Trio's faces fell.
"W-W-What?" Stretch was exasperated. "What are ya talkin' about?"
"Like you said, the whole town is miserable. And if the town is miserable, then so am I. I'm sorry, but…Christmas is canceled." Molly unplugged the tree, leaving the Trio in the literal dark. "Don't wake me in the morning, I'm sleeping in."
Without another word, Molly solemnly ascended the staircase.
"Fellas?" Stretch spoke up once she was gone. "This is bad…in breakin' everyone else's spirits, we broke Molly's along with 'em…"
Stinkie sniffled. "Yeah…and for what? To destroy our most hated day of the year for our own selfish desires and nothin' more?"
"No…" tears streamed down Fatso's face. "I think we also did it to prove we're bigger jerks than Davenport…and we succeeded!"
"I know, right? Poor Molly!" Stretch lamented.
"Poor kid!" Stinkie agreed.
"Poor…k cutlet!" Fatso held out a sandwich, prompting Stretch to stuff it in the big ghost's mouth.
"What have we done?!" all three phantoms bawled while hugging each other.
Stretch released his brothers and wiped a tear from his eye. "Leave it to Molly McGee's misery to be the one thing to trigger our guilt complex. We gotta fix this!"
"But what about our rule of only breakin' things and not fixin' em?" Stinkie reminded him.
Stretch flew toward the window and opened it. "Well, looks like we're breakin' that rule. It wouldn't be the first time. And it probably won't be the last…"
Meanwhile, back at the Davenport mansion, Mr. Davenport had returned to his bed, sleeping soundly beside his wife again. From the way things turned out, he was still under the impression that everything that had happened to him that night was nothing more than a crazy dream. But the Trio were about to turn said dream into a living nightmare.
The three of them hovered over Mr. Davenport's bedside.
"Hey! Wake up!" Stretch slapped him awake.
"Ow! What the-?" Mr. Davenport rubbed his cheek and looked up. "Oh. You guys again. Didn't we already do this? You are the same ghosts, right?"
"No," Stretch answered before growing larger and scarier. "We're the ghosts of 'We're-Gonna-Scare-The-Christmas-Spirit-Into-Yer-Lousy-Carcuss'!"
Mr. Davenport wasn't scared in the slightest. "Okay…little long, not hashtaggable at all, but-wah!"
Without even letting him finish, the Ghostly Trio dragged Mr. Davenport out of bed by the foot once more and proceeded to fly him outside. Once there, they repeatedly tossed him into the air in an attempt to get him to beg for mercy. But instead, he seemed to enjoy the free ride, as he kept laughing and whooping the whole time.
"What is wrong with you?!" Stretch demanded, throwing the businessman toward Stinkie. "You're supposed to be terrified!"
Stinkie grabbed his hand. "You're supposed to be traumatized!"
He hurled him toward Fatso.
"You're supposed to be the leading lady of your own life!"
Mr. Davenport chuckled. "What?! Ha, ha! That is so stupid, you're making my ribs crack from laughter!"
"Hey! Stop stealin' our lines, bub!" Stretch repeatedly whacked Mr. Davenport against Brighton's water tower.
"Ha, ha-ow! Ha, ha-ow! Ha, ha-ow!"
"ARGH!" Stretch snarled after a while. "You are so frustrating!" he shook Mr. Davenport while holding him upside-down by the legs.
Suddenly, Mr. Davenport's tune changed.
"Wait! Spirits! Spirits, stop!"
Stinkie grinned. "Oh, finally had enough, huh?"
"No, no." Mr. Davenport pointed in the direction of his house where one of the windows was lit up. "I just want you to bring me closer to that window."
The Trio exchanged glances, not sure where the guy was heading with this, but did as they were told anyway. Mr. Davenport then looked inside the window where he could see Andrea in front of the mirror, holding the gown she was going to wear for the celebration.
"Spirit?" Mr. Davenport asked. "Is this a vision or is this actually happening?"
"Take a wild guess." Stretch responded.
Mr. Davenport watched as Andrea taped the dress over her reflection and put on her crown. He couldn't help smiling.
"She looks just like her mother…"
But the happy moment didn't last as Andrea soon sat down with her hands covering her eyes. She appeared to be very upset.
"What? I don't understand." Mr. Davenport worried. "Why is my little button crying?"
Stretch got in his face. "Oh gee, I dunno. Maybe it's got somethin' to do with the philosophy ya carried down from Dear Old Dad."
Fatso's head morphed into Mr. Davenport's and he did a flawless impression. "'Christmas is a time to make money, not merry.'"
Mr. Davenport frowned. "You know…my father was a great businessman…but not a very good dad…"
"Gee, it took ya this long to realize?" Stinkie snarked.
Mr. Davenport smiled again. "But I'm not about to make the same mistake he did. Spirits? I'll do it! I'll fund the Snowflake Celebration! I'll make my daughter happy! I'll make all of Brighton happy!"
"Glad to hear it." Stretch smirked. "Well, boys, looks like our work here is done."
Satisfied, Stretch threw Mr. Davenport behind his shoulder, remembering too late that he couldn't fly like him and his brothers.
"AAAAHHHH!"
"Uh…he can't donate to the celebration if he's a ghost, right?" Fatso clarified.
"Definitely not." Stretch answered.
So, the Trio dove after him to catch him just in time.
The next morning, Molly was awoken by a familiar voice.
"Oh Molly?" Stretch shook her shoulder. "Wake up…it's Christmas…"
Molly opened her eyes to glare at him. "I don't care…go away…" she covered her head with her pillow.
"I see." Stretch shrugged. "Then I guess ya also won't care when we tell ya Davenport ended up havin' a change of heart after all and your precious Snowflake Celebration is back on. Oh well. Let's go, boys."
The Trio were about to fly away when Molly held them back.
"Wait…what did you say?"
"Oh, now she's interested." Stinkie teased.
"Did you say the Snowflake Celebration is back on?"
"Mm-hm!" the Trio nodded.
"But…but how? Mr. Davenport didn't sound like he was going to change his mind…unless…no…you three…did you…did you three do this?"
"Well, it sure wasn't Santa Claus!" Fatso remarked.
Molly squeezed them into a hug. "I knew it! I knew you'd come around on Christmas! And Mom thought you were lost causes! Shows what she knows, huh?"
"Right, right." Stretch rolled his eyes with a smirk. "Well, don't get excited yet, Molly Jolly McGee. We still got a lot to do if we wanna make this thing work."
"And since it's Christmas, we can do it with a musical montage!" Fatso declared.
So, Molly woke up the rest of her family and they immediately set off to prepare the town for the celebration, starting with swiping some decorations from Davenport's store. Once they did that, they spread the lights, spangle, and fake snowmen evenly throughout the streets and corners, making everything just a bit more Christmasy. It didn't take long for the citizens of Brighton to notice the McGee's efforts, and soon, they were helping out, too.
Molly & Ghostly Trio: There will be Christmas in Brighton after all (after all!)
Sharon: We're stringing lights up
Pete: We're decking every hall (every hall!)
Molly: We'll slather every door
In green and red decor
Mayor Brunson: In merriment per capita, we'll crush Perfektborg!
All: It's Christmas in Brighton once again
Fatso: Grab your cookie cutters and your rolling pin, I'm beggin' ya!
Darryl: The trees are gonna glisten
Stinkie: We'll hang up mistletoe
Stretch: We'll use this old asbestos to make artificial snow!
Pete & Sharon: Wait!
Just then, a gorgeous parade float with angel wings came down the street. Sitting atop the structure was Andrea Davenport decked out in her Snowflake Queen gown with a halo hanging over her head. Mr. and Mrs. Davenport were sitting below her, the former soaking in all the glory and the latter checking her phone.
All: Christmas in Brighton
Mr. Davenport: Thanks to me!
Andrea: I'll be the queen!
Pete: We got turnips
Stinkie: And onions!
Both: For every tree (every tree)
The float stopped in front of the bandshell and Mr. Davenport stepped off to greet his admirers. He approached the brand new Christmas tree that his money had helped buy and smiled pridefully. Molly and Darryl came up to him with a present, which he gratefully accepted. Then Mayor Brunson flipped the switch on stage and the Christmas tree's lights turned on. This time, though, there weren't any fires. Only a beautiful display of color and radiance.
All: Three cheers for Mr. Davenport
You really saved the day
Stretch: *aside* But it was really us!
All: You're not quite as big of a jerk as people say!
Mr. Davenport heard his phone go off and he tossed the present to check it.
"Everyone, look! I'm trending!"
The present landed in front of the Trio, getting bent from the fall.
"Nah. He's still kind of a jerk." Fatso noted.
The town gathered around the tree, gazing at its splendor. Their happiness was growing by the minute. But Molly, as usual, was the happiest of all.
"My first Snowflake Celebration…" she put a hand to her heart and gave the Trio a big grin. "And it's all thanks to you guys. Thank you for making this the best Christmas ever!"
Stretch couldn't help but return the smile. "Consider it our present to you."
"Yep!" Stinkie concurred. "That's your gift!"
"Seriously, we didn't get ya anything else." Fatso admitted.
"Well, I got something for you…" Molly said in a singsong voice.
"Ya did?!" the Trio got excited. "What is it? What is it?"
"…Hey, everyone! Who's up for a holiday singalong?"
The Trio's smiles faded.
"Oh no…" they feared.
"Oh yes…" Molly giggled mischievously. "Dashing through the snow, in a one-horse open sleigh…"
The rest of the town joined in.
"O'er the fields we go, laughing all the-"
"NOOOO!" the Trio screamed before flying off with their non-existent ears covered.
"So cheesy!"
"So repetitive!"
"So overplayed!"
"MAKE IT STOP!"
Molly giggled, along with the rest of the McGees.
"That wasn't their real gift." Molly explained. "I just figured after they destroyed the first celebration, they deserved to be punished just a little bit."
"Very clever." Sharon commented. "Though I still would have preferred to wrap them up like tinsel."
"Oh, Mom." Molly snickered.
Ghostly Trio and Molly McGee!
Hope you all had a very merry holiday season, no matter what you celebrate! I hope these festive little installments provided you with plenty of smiles, laughs, and overall joy. However, they will be the last things I upload this year and the last things I upload for a few weeks due to me going on a cruise and not having access to internet. Don't worry, though. I should be back to regular uploads sometime in the middle of January, and the next thing I upload will probably be the "On My Dragon's Wings" chapter I promised the one person who voted on the poll. Speaking of said poll, though, it is still up for those who would like to cast a vote of their own, so if you'd like some input on what I post next, that's a good place to do it.