Scrooge poked it too! Scrooge poked it right in the belly and Marley was known to hate that, so if he was alive he would have punch Scrooge straight in the mouth.

Old Marley was dead as a door nail.

Marley’s death left Scrooge the sole proprietor of the Arizona Leather Back factory. They sold a great many fine leathers: Buck Skin, GoatSkin, Calfskin! Chicken skin! All the good ones.

Scrooge was tight-fisted hand at the grind stone. He never used the AC. His store a sweltering 100 degrees at most times of the year. The heat had no effect on Scrooges leather work. His head lost in a world of leather manufacturing.

Scrooge worked in a separate room back from the occasional customer. The front of the store was manned by his long-time clerk, Bob Cratchit. His desk littered with self-purchased mist fans on full power.

“A merry Christmas, uncle! Judge save you!” Cried a cheerful voice. It was the voice of Scrooges nephew, Fred, who came crashing through the Leathery door. This angered Scrooge.

“Bah! Humbug!” Scrooge yelled at his nephew.

“Christmas a humbug!? You do not mean that, I am sure?” his nephew returned.

“I do. In fact, Christmas can take a rattler and shove it up its own a--.” Scrooge continued, “What reason to be merry to you have? You are poor enough?”

“What reason do you have to be an old bastard? You’re rich enough?”

Scrooge was beyond livid. He replied, “What has Christmas ever done for you?”

His nephew stood proud and returned, “I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round—apart from the veneration due to its sacred name and origin, if anything belonging to it can be apart from that—as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time; the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys. And therefore, uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that it has done me good, and will do me good; and I say, God bless it!”

Bob Cratchit applauded involuntarily. Scrooge yelled, “If I hear another sound from you, Christmas shall be held in the unemployment line!”

Scrooge’s nephew interrupted the anger, “Anyway, come dine with us? My wife would love your company, Uncle. “

Scrooge was done with this conversation and he let his guest know, “Good Afternoon”

“Uncle”

“Good Afternoon!”

“You intend to make this unpleasant but you are my family and I love you, so Merry Christmas! And A Happy New Year!”

“Good afternoon!”

His nephew left the store without an angry word, saying goodbye to Bob on his way out.

Scrooge had few other visitors he couldn’t give two fucks about. At closing time, Bob came into Scrooge’s office without permission. The affront irked Scrooge’s mood greatly.

“ah…sir.” Bob said.

Scrooge grunted.

“Sir, may I ask a favor?”

“what do you want? I am busy!”

“Sir, I was wondering, may I have tomorrow off?”

“Tomorrow? Why? Is it a holiday?”

“Yes, its Christmas, sir”

“pffft. Do people not need leather on Christmas day?”

“No. Everyone is buying their loved ones ipads and ps4s and switches. We never have a customer in here. You lose money paying me my wages.”

Scrooge, hearing only the part about money, agreed.

“You are right, Bob. But I want you here two hours early the next day and organizing the leather by alphabetically by animal’s Christian name. “

Bob had no idea what that meant but agreed to get the day off.

When the sun set, Scrooge left his business and headed home. The streets carried a weird fog this night but scrooge gave it no mind. His mind only spooked at the raising prices of leather.

He made it to his house as the sky became pitch black. It is a fact that scrooge’s door bell was an ordinary door bell. It went DING-DONG and that was it. However, tonight the door bell was the face of his dead partner Jacob Marley. Scrooge looked at it.

As he moved his face closer, it was a door bell again. To say he was not startled would be untrue. But he steadily got his keys and unlocked the front door. He entered the shut the door behind him.

He thought to lock the locks but then thought, I have never done that before. Won’t start now.

Scrooge got ready for bed by heating up a can of stew, grabbing a bottle of whiskey, and eating and getting drunk between the sheets. After his meal, he found his favorite movie on Netflix, White Girls, and hit play.

Around midnight, scrooge could barely lift his eyes. The sweat sounds of the Waynes Brothers lulling him to sleep. As his eye-lids landed heavily shut. His bedroom door opened violently as a something entered his chamber doors.

Scrooge recognized the being as it hovered closer as his long-time partner, Marley. His eyes widen and his mouth went dry. No sounds could he make and no movement could he force.

“You’re dead! I know I saw you die and helped buried you.”

The being howled!

“Do you not trust your eyes?” said the being.

“I should say not. I finished a fifth of whiskey and that can play tricks on a man’s mind.”

The being howled! The loud scream sent Scrooge to the floor.

“I am your partner Jacob Marley. If life I was a bastard like you and I am here to tell you that hell is real and it sucks.”

Scrooge tried to appease the spirit with a compliment, “But Hell? You were still a good man? Is there no mercy?”

The Being Howled!

“There is no mercy for men like us! We helped finance the anti-immigration laws.”

Scrooge cried out, “is there no comfort for me?”

The Being Howled!

“You may find mercy, Scrooge!” The being began to vanish into the darkness. “Three ghosts are riding to you. They shall help you on your path.”

Marley had vanished. Scrooge not sure what had occurred began to doubt everything and said, “Humbug.”

The Being Howled!

Scrooge fell to the floor again.

“Expect the first ghost when the clock says one.”

Silence fell onto the room.

Scrooge got back into bed, looking cautiously into the dark room. He laid his head down and closed his eyes. Before he slept he muttered, “Humbug.”

The First Ghost

Scrooge awoke from the alarm on his clock he did not set. He hit the alarm and tried to go back to sleep when he felt a foreign pressure on his chest. Scrooge assumed this was the start of his fatal heart attack. He opened his eyes to find the fabled light and was greeted with the creepy smile of a bearded little person.

Scrooge lifted from bed, launching the dwarf wildly into the bedroom wall. The tiny man picked himself off and grabbed a pick ax off the floor and jumped back on the bed.

“Who are you tiny man!?”

“I am the Ghost of Christmas Past.”

“Long Past?”

“What is long past? I am the ghost of Christmas Past and I am here to make you realize you weren’t always such a dick. Now lets go.”

The little fellow hit Scrooge on the head, causing his to cover his head with his hands. When he removed his hands to strike his assailant, Scrooge was in his old school.

“Spirit, This is my old school.”

“No shit. And I am not spirit, I am a Tommy knocker. Read your Phantasmagoria. Come here.”

Scrooge found the Tommy Knocker in cafeteria. Watching a little boy. Scrooge recognized it as himself, age 14.

Scrooge moved toward the Tommy Knocker. Meanwhile three boys ran to Scrooge and screamed, “Your mom’s a whore!”

The spirit, not sure what was going on, asked Scrooge.

“This is the Christmas everyone found out my mom was fucking the quarterback.”

“What?! Shit this if the wrong memory!”

He looked at Scrooge, he was noticeably upset.

“Wrong memory? Are you new?”

Anger took over Scrooge, and he jumped on the Tommy Knockers neck. He was about the choke out the

He opened his eye and found himself in a candy store. Not just any candy store but Fezziwigs!

“Spirit! I know this place! I interned here!”

“Good, I got the place right. I am sorry about that last memory. And to answer your question, Yes, I am new. “

Scrooge didn’t hear the ghost. He was lost in nostalgia. Scrooge spotted himself running in a much younger body down a flight of stairs into Fezziwig’s office. The older Scrooge and the Tommoy Knocker followed him.

“Sir! Margret has just brought boxes upon boxes of Christmas cookies. They smell so good!”

Fezziwig did not move from his chair.

“Sir?”

Scrooge began to remember this Christmas. It was the Christmas his beloved mentor died from diabetes due to his wife’s sugary cookies.

The Tommy Knocker realized this as well and before Scrooge could say anything to point out the error the blunt side of a pick hit Scrooge in the Temple again.

This time Scrooge woke up at a beautiful lake. Sitting on a bench were two people staring into the distance.

“Nope! I know this memory. This is the Christmas Belle left me because I was working to hard. I thought you were trying to make me not a dick. I have once again been devastated by reliving all these Christmases. You suck at your job.”

The Tommy Knock looked around and agreed. He said, “Listen after this is done you are going to be asked to take a survey. I am going to ask you decline to take it.”

The Tommy Knocker jumped up and slammed the pick into his head again.

Scrooge woke at 1:15 with a massive headache. He was back in his room. Alone.

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