The Muppet Christmas Carol

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- Well. That was a fine meal.

- Yes. It was. Wasn't it?

Yes. Where shall we go now?

- Let's have. Uh. Lunch!

- Oh. Good idea.

- Now quiet down. You melons.

- Hey. I'm being stolen!

Hey. Help me! Help me!

Hey. Put me down!

What about my nose?

Ow!

Banana peels comin' down!

Come along. Ladies.

Here's a nice Christmas turkey.

Turkeys!

Get your Christmas turkey.

Hey. Wha...

Get back in that box there!

Get your boomerang fish.

Oh! Guaranteed fresh.

Throw the fish away.

and it comes back to me.

- Get 'em while they're fresh.

- Apples! Christmas apples!

- We got Mclntosh!

- Get your Christmas apples.

- Red Delicious.

- Tuppence apiece while they last.

We... They won't last long

the way you're eating them.

Hey. I'm creatin' scarcity.

Drives the prices up.

Rizzo...

Hello! Welcome to

The Muppet Christmas Carol.

- I am here to tell the story.

- And I am here for the food.

- My name is Charles Dickens.

- And my name is Rizzo the Rat.

Hey. Wait a second.

You're not Charles Dickens.

- I am too!

- No.

A blue. Furry Charles Dickens

who hangs out with a rat?

- Absolutely!

- Dickens was a 19th-century novelist.

- A genius!

- Oh. You're too kind.

Why should I believe you?

Well. Because I know the story

of"A Christmas Carol"

like the back of my hand.

- Prove it!

- All right.

Um. There's a little mole on my thumb

and. Uh. A scar on my wrist...

- From when I fell off my bicycle.

- No. No. No. No.

Don't tell us your hand.

Tell us the story.

Oh. Oh. Thank you. Yes.

The Marleys were dead to begin with.

- Wha- Wha... Pardon me?

- That's how the story begins. Rizzo.

The Marleys were dead to begin with.

as dead as a doornail.

It's a good beginning.

It's creepy and kind of spooky.

- Oh. Thank you. Rizzo.

- You're welcome. Mr Dickens.

In life. The Marleys

had been business partners...

with a shrewd moneylender

named Ebenezer Scrooge.

You will meet him

as he comes around that corner.

- Where?

- There.

- When?

- Now.

There he is.

Mr Ebenezer Scrooge.

Say. Is it gettin' colder out here?

When a cold wind blows

it chills you

Chills you to the bone

But there's nothing in nature that freezes

your heart like years of being alone

It paints you with indifference

Like a lady paints with rouge

- And the worst of the worst

- The most hated and cursed

Is the one that we call Scrooge

- Unkind as any

- And the wrath of many

This is Ebenezer Scrooge

Oh, there goes Mr Humbug

There goes Mr Grimm

If they gave a prize

for bein'mean

The winner would be him

Old Scrooge, he loves his money

'cause he thinks it gives him power

If he became a flavour

you can bet he would be sour

Even the vegetables

don't like him.

There goes Mr Skinflint

There goes Mr Greed

The undisputed master

of the underhanded deed

He charges folks a fortune

for his dark and draughty houses

Us poor folk live in misery

It's even worse for mouses

Please. Sir.

I want some cheese.

He must be so lonely

He must be so sad

He goes to extremes

to convince us he's bad

He's really a victim

of fear and of pride

Look close and there must be

a sweet man inside

- Nah.

- Uh-uh.

There goes Mr Outrage

There goes Mr Sneer

He has no time for friends or fun

His anger makes that clear

Don't ask him for a favour

'cause his nastiness increases

No crust of bread for those in need

No cheeses for us meeces

Scrooge liked the cold.

He was hard and sharp as a flint...

secretive. Self-contained.

as solitary as an oyster.

There goes Mr Heartless

There goes Mr Cruel

He never gives

He only takes

He lets his hunger rule

If being mean's a way of life

You practise and rehearse

Then all that work is paying off

'cause Scrooge is getting worse

Every day in every way

Scrooge is getting worse

- Oh. Boy!

- How the time flies! Look at this.

- I've got to go.

- What happened?

Hey. Guys. What happened?

Humbug.

What an unpleasant fella!

He was a tightfisted hand

at the grindstone. Scroo...

- Boy. This really is a dirty city.

- You're telling me!

- Come here.

- Hmm?

Thank you for making me

a part of this.

He was a tightfisted hand

at the grindstone. Scrooge...

a squeezing.

wrenching. Grasping...

clutching. Covetous old sinner.

- Bob Cratchit?

- Yes. Mr Scrooge?

- Who is this?

- It's Mr Applegate. Sir.

He's here to speak to you

about his mortgage.

Please. Mr Scrooge.

I know you're very angry about this.

And I didn't mean to fall behind

in the payments.

Lord knows.

it being Christmas and all.

Please don't shout at me. Sir.

That and. Of course. Little Gwen.

Her lungs aren't right.

The doctor takes his share. Don't he?

I mean. You can yell and scream and

you're right. But it won't do no good...

because I'm the stone

you can't squeeze blood from.

And that's the truth!

Thank you for not shouting at me.

- Seventy-two...

- Seventy-four...

Let us deal with the eviction notices

for tomorrow. Mr Cratchit.

- Tomorrow is Christmas. Sir.

- Very well.

You may gift-wrap them.

- Let us help you with that. Mr Cratchit.

- Oh. My. There are certainly a lot today.

- We'll get 'em.

- Okay. Okay.

- There you go. Boss.

- Here you go.

- Look out on that end.

Look out. Iook out!

Come on. Guys. Whoa!

Whoa! Look out!

Look out! Look out!

Christmas is a very busy time

for us. Mr Cratchit.

People preparing feasts.

giving parties...

spending the mortgage money

on frivolities.

One might say that December

is the foreclosure season.

Harvest time for the moneylenders.

- Hey. Boss. Ask him.

- Tell him. Mr Cratchit.

- Come on. Do it now. Boss.

- Uh. If you please. Mr Scrooge...

it's gotten colder.

and the bookkeeping staff...

would like to have an extra

shovelful of coal for the fire.

- We can't do the bookkeeping.

- Yeah. All of our pens

have turned to ink-cicles.

Our assets are frozen!

How would the bookkeepers like

to be suddenly unemployed?

Heatwave!

This is my island in the sun

l-I believe you've convinced them

once again. Mr Scrooge.

At that moment.

who should arrive at the door...

but Scrooge's nephew. Fred.

his only living relative.

- Nephew Fred? I don't see him.

- Trust me.

Hello? Uncle?

- Rizzo?

- You're very good at that. Mr Dickens.

A merry Christmas. Uncle Scrooge.

- God save ya!

- Merry Christmas? Bah humbug.

Quick! It'll be warmer in there.

Christmas a humbug. Uncle?

Oh. You don't mean that. Surely.

Actually. I think

it's colder in here.

Merry Christmas you say?

What right have you to be merry?

You're poor enough.

What right have you to be dismal?

You're rich enough.

He's got him there.

The old boy's speechless.

If I could work my will...

every idiot who goes about

with "Merry Christmas" on his lips...

would be cooked with his own turkey

and buried...

- With a stake of holly through his heart.

- Well. Not quite speechless.

- Oh. Uncle!

- Nephew...

you keep Christmas in your own way

and let me keep it in mine.

Christmas is a loving.

honest and charitable time.

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