A Christmas Carol Page #3

Somehow he gets thoughtful

sitting by himself so much,

and he thinks the strangest things

you ever heard.

He told me, coming home, that he hoped

the people sawed him in church,

because he was a cripple...

...and it might make pleasant for them

to remember it upon Christmas Day

who made lame beggars walk

and blind men see.

I believe he grows more hearty

and stronger every day, my dear.

The pudding looks delicious!

The whole wash house smells

like a pastry cook's shop.

Spirit, tell me, will Tiny Tim...?

I see a vacant seat

in the poor chimney corner...

...and a crutch without an owner.

Carefully preserved.

- Hurrah!

- The Christmas goose!

Make space.

Let's get that cover off.

- Oh!

- Lovely! Well done, Peter.

I don't believe I've ever seen

a more magnificent goose cooked.

It is a beautiful bird, that's for sure.

But I'll pray that

one Christmas, perhaps,

the children might taste a turkey.

Perhaps one day, my dear.

Perhaps one day.

A toast.

To Mr Scrooge.

- The founder of our feast.

- Ha!

Founder of the feast, indeed.

I wish I had him here.

I'd give him a piece of

my mind to feast upon,

and I'd hope he'd have

a good appetite for it.

My dear, the children...

it's Christmas Day.

Christmas Day, I'm sure.

How can one drink the health

of such an odious, stingy, hard,

unfeeling man as Mr Scrooge?

As you know he is, Robert.

Nobody knows it better than you.

My dear, Christmas Day.

I'll drink his health for your sake

and the day's, not for his.

A merry Christmas

and a happy New Year.

He'll be very merry and very happy,

I have no doubt.

A merry Christmas to us all,

my dears. God bless us.

God bless us.

God bless us, everyone.

- Merry Christmas and happy New Year.

- God bless.

Kind spirit,

say Tiny Tim will be spared.

If these shadows remain unaltered

by the future...the child will die.

Die! No, spirit. No.

What then?

If he is to die, he had better do it.

And decrease

the surplus population.

- So you're thinking of an animal?

- Yes.

- A live animal?

- Yes.

- A rather disagreeable animal?

- Yes.

- A savage animal?

- Yes.

Wait, wait! Is it an animal

that grunts and growls?

Yes!

- And lives in London?

- Yes.

- A horse?

- No.

- A cow?

- No.

- A dog?

- A pig?

- No.

- An ass?

- Yes and no.

- Oh!

I know who it is, Fred!

I know! it's your Uncle Scrooge!

Yes!

Christmas a humbug?

Now, he actually said that?

As I live. And he believes it.

I have no patience

with him, Fred.

I have. I'm sorry for him.

Who suffers from his ill whims?

Only himself.

He decides to dislike us,

won't come and dine with us,

and what's the consequence?

He loses a dinner.

- Indeed, he loses a very good dinner.

- Hear, hear.

- A magnificent dinner.

- Great.

He's certainly given us

plenty of merriment, that's for sure,

and I think it would be ungrateful

not to drink to his health.

He wouldn't take it from me,

but he may have it nevertheless.

A merry Christmas to the old man,

whatever he is. Uncle Scrooge.

To Uncle Scrooge.

Are spirits' lives so short?

My life upon this globe is very brief.

It ends tonight.

- Tonight?

- Tonight at midnight.

Hark.

The time is drawing near.

Forgive me...but I see something

strange protruding from your skirt.

Is it a foot or a claw?

It might be a claw, for the scant amount

of flesh there is upon it.

- Look here.

- Naff off!

Oh, man. Look here.

You daft old geezer.

Look! Look!

Down here!

- Go away!

- Are they yours?

They are man's.

This boy is Ignorance.

This girl is Want.

Beware them both.

Oh!

Ah!

Ah!

Have they no refuge? No resource?

Are there no prisons?

Are there no workhouses?

Am I in the presence of

the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come?

You're about to show me shadows

of the things that have not happened

but will happen. Is that so, spirit?

Ghost of the Future, I fear you

more than any spectre I have seen.

But I know your purpose

is to do me good.

I am prepared to bear you company.

Lead on.

The night is waning fast.

it's precious time to me.

Lead on, spirit.

- When did he die?

- Last night, I believe.

- Or sometime Christmas Day.

- I thought he'd never die.

- :
What's he done with his money?

- Hasn't left it to me.

That's all I know.

It is likely to be a cheap funeral.

For the life of me, I can't think

of anyone who'd want to attend it.

I don't mind going...

if lunch is provided.

There, yes.

What a frightful fellow.

- All right.

- Good day, gentlemen.

Get ahold of yourself, Ebenezer.

You're having a wobbly.

Whoo!

Oh! Oh!

You won't get me in here.

Christmas pudding, no doubt.

I'm...I'm on Lime Street.

Oh, come now.

Oh!

Ah!

Whoa!

Merry Christmas, Joe.

And happy New Year,

to be sure. Come in.

Sit down in me parlour

and let's have a look.

Here.

Whoa!

What do you call these,

Mrs Dilber, huh?

Mrs Dilber?

Bed curtains.

You mean to say you took them down

while he was lying there?

I do.

And why not?

You was born to make your fortune,

and you certainly will do it.

Well,

I shan't hold back my hand

when I can get something by it...

Don't you go getting grease

on them blankets now.

- His blankets?

- Whose else do you think?

He won't be feeling the cold

without them now, I dare say.

I hope he didn't die

of anything catching.

Don't you

be afeard of that.

I ain't so fond of his company

that I'd loiter about.

You can look through that shin

till your eyes ache,

and you won't find one hole in it.

- It was the best he had.

- Mrs Dilber!

Would have been wasted,

only for me.

- You're fired! Fired!

- How did you mean "wasted"?

Somebody was fool enough

to put it on him to be buried in.

But I took it off him.

This is the end of it, you see.

He frightened everyone away

while he was alive.

Only to profit us now that he's dead.

If he'd had somebody to look after him

when he was struck with death,

instead of lying there, all alone,

gasping out his last breath...

...well, we wouldn't have

these things to sell now, would we?

Hey!

Whoa!

Spirit! I see! I see!

The case of this unhappy

man who dies a solitary, lonesome death

might be my own.

My life

tends that way now.

Merciful heavens! What's this?

Spirit, this is a fearful place.

When I leave it, I shall not leave

its lesson. Trust me. Let's go!

I understand. And I would, if I could,

but I have not the power.

Spirit, if there is any person who feels

emotion caused by this man's death,

show that person to me, I beg you.

- Are we ruined?

- There is hope yet.

Hope? Only if he relents.

He is past relenting.

He is dead.

Dead?

To whom will our debts be transferred?

I don't know, but by then

we'll have the money.

And even if we don't, it's unlikely any

new creditor will ever be so merciless.

We shall sleep tonight

with light hearts, my dear.

Let me see some tenderness

connected to death,

or this chamber will forever haunt me!

It's late.

Past your father's time.

He's walked slow

these last few evenings.

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