• The Twisted Christmas Carol



    “Yes! Finally it is a new week!” Principal Bob said, an evil gleam in his eyes. “It is time to start phase one of my evil plan!”

    The principal walked into the school office and got on the intercom. “All the teachers are FIRED!” the principal yelled over the intercom. “Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!” he screamed. “Yes! Part one of my evil plan is complete.”

    He walked down the hall and into the first grade class. “Hello class. I am now promoting you to twelfth grade work! Ha ha ha!” he said as he ran out of the room.

    …

    “Man that was a hard day at work today. I just don’t get paid enough,” Principal Bob said while sitting in his five million dollar, gold chair.

    “Wooooooo! Woooooooo! WOOOOOO!”

    “What the heck was that?” Bob said sitting straighter in his chair.

    “Woooooo!” a ghost screached as it floated into the room.

    “What the heck are you suppose to be?” Bob demanded

    “You can’t be that stupid can you?!” said the ghost.

    “I’m not stupid!” Bob complaind.

    “You can’t even tell that I’m a ghost!”

    “Dude, you have a sheet over your head!” Bob pointed out.

    “Well it’s not my fault! This story has crappy funding!” the ghost shot back.

    “Right…” Bob said doubtfully.

    “It’s true!”

    “Are you sure?”

    “Okay! Fine! I couldn’t afford a good ghost costume.”

    “Well too bad for you.” Bob sneered mockingly.

    “Yeah, I know. But it’s your fault.”

    “What are you talking about?”

    “I’m Marvin, one of the teachers you fired.”

    “Wait, I just fired you this morning. How’d you die?” Bob asked

    “I don’t want to talk about it.”

    “Why not”

    “Well don’t you think it’s a little embarrassing to die right after you got fired?” the ghost asked sadly.

    “I wouldn’t know because I can’t get fired!” Bob announced proudly.

    “Oh…yeah.”

    “So, how did you die?”

    “I ran into a…” Marvin trailed off.

    “What?”

    “I…ran into a…a…pole!”

    Bob stood there a moment, frozen by the ghosts answer. Then burst into laughter. The room got very quiet.

    “Anyway, what I was about to tell you, was that you are going to be visited by three more ghosts.”

    “Okaaaay. Why am I going to be visited by more ghosts.”

    “Cause you’re a jerk, man.”

    “What’s that got to do with anything?”

    “Well, if you read the story The Christmas Carol, then you would know that the ghosts will make you a kind-hearted…” Marvin paused to think. “…gentleman…?”

    “What? I don’t want to become a gentleman. I love my job! I mean come on, I just fired all my teachers today, and I was proud of myself! And not to mention the giant golden chair in my living room!”

    “You can’t be serious.”

    “Well, I pretty much am.”

    “Fine. Whatever. Now as I was saying, there will be a Ghost of the Olden Days, and a Ghost of What Is Now, and, finally but not least, the most evil one of all…Fred. Well, good night!”

    The ghost disappeared in a poof of pink smoke, leaving behind only his sheet.

    …

    Bob was fast asleep, snoring like every other night.

    A voice whispered in the darkness. “Whoa, this guy can snore! If I had known that, I wouldn’t have signed on for this job. They just told me to go in scare this dude and come back out, but nooooo, they leave out a piece of important information.”

    “Huh?” Bob said, groggily. “Who’s there?”

    “Oh crap, he’s awake! I gotta get out of here!” The ghost said as he leaped towards the window. Whack! “O-o-oh. W-who shut the window?”

    The ghost looked up only to see a double barreled shotgun in his face. “Oh, great. Just another little piece of information they left out. Could have told me he had a shotgun, but no. I’m starting to get the feeling that they don’t like me.”

    “What are you babbling about?”

    “None of your business.”

    “Should you really be sassing off to a guy who has a shotgun pointed at your face.”

    “Uh…I’m a…ghost.”

    “You mean the ghost that Marvin warned me about? You have a worse costume than he had.”

    “Really? You think so? I thought it was a pretty good idea,” the ghost said lifting the veil off his head.

    “Riiiight.”

    “Well, at least it’s better than your costume,” the ghost said smugly.

    Bob looked down self consciously at his pink polka dot pajamas.

    “I mean, really, what kind of man wears pink polka dot pajamas?”

    “It’s comfortable. And besides you’re wearing a veil.”

    “Well, Marvin said it was a good costume.”

    “And you…believed him?”

    “Of course I did. It’s not like he hates me or anything.”

    “So…what are you doing in my house?”

    “I am the Ghost of Olden Days,” he announced proudly. “I have come to show you…the…olden days…”

    “What’s the golden haze?”

    “Olden days.”

    “Oh. Right. I knew that. Now, how are you going to show me the 'olden days'?"

    “Oh my gosh. Why can’t you figure that out? Have you never read The Christmas Carol?”

    “Uh…no. I don’t have much time for reading. I mean, you know, plundering cities and towns…and eventually taking over the world. Sometimes it just takes it out of ya.”

    “You’re a nutcase.”

    “You know…I hear that a lot. I’m not really sure why, but I hired a team to investigate it.”

    “You’ve got to be joking. Not only was I sent here to scare a complete stranger, they didn’t even tell me that he was a nut job. Okay…now we have to go.”

    They walked out the back door to find a giant jet in his backyard.

    “Whoa! How’d this get here?”

    “Uh…how do you think I got here? Did you think I could fly or something?”

    “Well, I kinda did.”

    “That’s ridiculous. I can’t fly. I can’t even fly an airplane, let alone by myself.”

    They got on board.

    “Okay,” the Ghost of Olden Days said. “Get in the cockpit and take the controls and fly… ascend …er…go up. Whatever. You’re the pilot.”

    “W-what? I’m not a pilot.”

    “You are now.”

    “This is crazy. I want to go back to bed. I get cranky in the morning.”

    “Ah, we should be back before morning, so don’t worry about it.”

    Bob sat cautiously in the pilot seat as he stared confused at the millions of buttons and switches.

    “Where’s the 'on' button on this thing? Ah! Here it is!”

    He pressed a large red button that said “SELF-DESTRUCT…DO NOT PRESS--That means you Bob.”

    “Commence self-destruct in ten…nine…” said a monotonous voice.

    “Uh…ghost…I think I pressed the wrong button.”

    “What are you talking about?” The ghost asked, walking into the cockpit with two glasses of champagne.

    “What? You’re drinking at a time like this? Where did you even get those?”

    “I don’t know. I just found them in the bathroom.”

    Bob sat there frozen for a minute. “In…the…bathroom?”

    “It’s not half bad. Here try one.”

    “What? No! We’re about to die!”

    “Oh this happens all the time.”

    “…one…BEEP!”

    “That didn’t sound good,” the ghost murmured, sipping his champagne.

    KABOOM!

    During the huge explosion, the jet was hurled into the past or…er…olden days.

    …

    Bob opened his eyes slowly, blinking a couple times. “What? I’m not dead? And why are we in the middle of the jungle?”

    The ghost woke up, too. “The jungle? I LOVE the jungle! It’s one of my nine favorite places in the world!”

    “What are your other eight?”

    “My bathroom, the kitty box, the—”

    “Never mind. Let’s just get out of here.”

    They began walking through the dense jungle. Thump.

    “W-what was that?” Bob asked, his voice trembling.

    “Ah, just probably a big bug. Let’s go catch it!”

    “What? A big bug? Go catch it? No!”

    “Oh, come on! It’ll be fun!”

    THAT’S IT I QUIT! THIS STORY IS GETTING STUPIDER BY THE MINUTE!

    “What was that?”

    “Maybe it was the big bug again! It can talk! Let’s really go catch it!”

    I’M NOT A BUG I’M THE NARRARATOR, YOU DIMWIT!

    “Oh my gosh. The bug is calling us names,” the ghost whimpered, scooting closer to Bob.

    “Get away from me!”

    AND IT’S NOT A BUG! IT’S A DINOSAUR!

    “Oh. Okay.” Bob said.

    “What? No bug? Ah, this story is terrible,” the ghost said, wiping tears from his face.

    ’ELLO, CHAPS.

    “Now who is it? And why are you wasting our time? I’m trying to get back before ten.”

    OH, WELL, I’M THE NEW NARRATOR. AND I’M BRITISH.

    “Is that important?”

    WELL I WANT THE READER TO KNOW THAT I’M BRITISH.

    “Why do people keep saying that this is a story? This is real life!” Bob cried out incredulously.

    NOW ON WITH THE STORY!

    “What story?!”

    "Roooooooaaaaaaaar!"

    “Ahhhhhhhhhhh!” Bob and the ghost screamed while clutching each other.

    “Oh. Sorry. I had something in my throat,” a giant dinosaur said, peeking over the tops of the trees to look at the two cowering figures. “You guys are smaller than I thought you would be.”

    “Did you know we were coming or something?” Bob asked.

    “Why, of course, I did! Marvin briefed me on the situation already.”

    “What does me talking to a giant dinosaur have to do with my past?”

    “Not the past. The olden days. And who said it was yours?”

    “Then what’s the point of this?”

    “Nah! I’m just messing with you.

    “Okay. Let’s just get this over with then.”

    The dinosaur directed them to a cave where inside a little boy sat reading a book.

    “Who the heck is that? And where’d he get a book?”

    “Oh yeah. We’re not really in prehistoric times. That was also a joke.”

    The cave shimmered and turned into an old schoolhouse.

    “Oh. Now I see. That’s supposed to be me, right?”

    “Yes,” the dinosaur said, turning his gaze from the well dressed boy to a boy in tattered clothes. “That is you.”

    “Oh. Yeah. I forgot how much my life sucked.”

    “Yes,” the ghost said. “You were a lonely child with no friends. You were picked on unmercifully by the principal and the teachers and the kids. And even your dog.”

    “What I didn’t have a dog.”

    “Oh…wait…that was me.”

    “You were picked on by your dog?”

    “Yeah…but I’m okay with it now. But as I was saying. You had a bad life and it’s no wonder you converted to your evil ways and destroyed the happy Christmas lives of everyone!”

    As they were talking a small girl burst into the room. “Hello, Bob!”

    “Oh. Hello,” the raggedy boy said.

    “Dad said that you…are to come home so we can make fun of you on Christmas!”

    “Really? Oh, thank you! I’ve never been so happy in my life!”

    “Man,” the ghost said. “You were a pathetic child.”

    “No, I wasn’t!”

    Voing!

    Suddenly Bob appeared in his room and the ghost was nowhere to be seen.

    “Oh. Good. Now I can go back to bed.”

    He instantly fell asleep only to be awakened by another noise.

    “Oooooooo.”

    “Oh no! Another ghost!” Bob cried, springing up to grab his shotgun.

    “What? You again? They told me I was going to Africa! On a safari!” the ghost’s voice squeaked on the last word.

    “Ghost of Olden Days?”

    “What? No. I’m the Ghost of What Is Now.”

    “Well, at least your costume improved.”

    “Really? You think so?” the ghost said looking down at his spiffy tuxedo.

    “What are trying to do? Create your own wedding? Was your life really that pathetic, not including being picked on by your dog?”

    “Uh…yeah…let’s not talk about this.”

    “Okay. Fine. Show me what you need to show me.”

    “Well, I thought we should look at what is now, so…to the jet!”

    “Noooooooooo!”

    “I’m just joking. We’re going to take a hot air balloon,” the ghost said, dragging Bob out the front door.

    “Just kill me now.”

    The ghost hopped inside the hot air balloon, dragging Bob behind him.

    “Just tell me I don’t need to be the pilot again.”

    “Of course not! I’ve got this one.”

    The balloon started to ascend quickly then descended as quickly as it had arisen, landing on the other side of the street.

    “What? That’s it?”

    “Yeah. Pretty much. I just wanted to freak you out.”

    They walked in the front door of the house to find one of his old teachers sitting with a woman and a small boy at a crooked, old table.

    “I just fired this guy this morning. He sure does fall into poverty pretty fast.”

    “He’s been like this, you idiot. This is the whole reason I brought you here. To see how bad this guy has it so tomorrow when you’re a kind-hearted…gentleman…you’ll give him money and stuff.”

    “I don’t want to be a gentleman!”

    “Oh. Okay…gentlewoman?”

    “Oh, never mind.”

    “Anyway, that was pretty much all I needed to show you here. Back to you Fred.”

    The ghost disappeared in a poof of pink smoke, leaving behind his spiffy tuxedo. Bob turned around to face Fred.

    “Why hello, Bob. I’m Fred.”

    “Oh. You’re not—.”

    His voice was cut off short by a fist slamming into his jaw.

    “What was that for!” Bob screamed.

    “For being an idiot.”

    “I didn’t even say anything bad.”

    “Oh yeah. I guess I was just itching to hit you.”

    Bob got up slowly from the punch that had sent him to the ground and stared at the ghost’s hockey mask.

    “What’s that for?”

    “Well, I just watched that movie…you know, with Jason and all, and it really inspired me.”

    “Okay. Now that’s stupid. What kind of guy—.”

    The ghost hit him again. “I’m not a guy!” the ghost said removing the hockey mask.

    “You’re a girl? Then why is your name Fred?”

    “Well…it’s really…Fredillia, but that’s just embarrassing.”

    “Oh. Well, that makes sense.”

    “Now…what was I saying…”

    “You weren’t saying anything. You were just hitting me…in the face.”

    “Oh yeah. I was. Wasn’t I? Well, then I’ll say it now. To sum it all up, you’re going to die if you don’t change your wicked ways.”

    “Oh. Okay. Since you put it that way, I think I’ll become a kind-hearted gentlewom—I mean gentleman. I’ll start tomorrow!”

    Poof!

    Fred disappeared and Bob was back in his room. Bob suddenly woke up the next morning. “That was an incredible dream! I think I’ll go over to the window for no apparent reason.”

    As Bob looked out the window, he saw a small boy walking by.

    “Oh, hi!” Bob called.

    “Oh my gosh! Run! It’s him!”

    “Well, that was weird, but I won’t let that dampen my spirit. I think I’ll go and buy a large…golden…turkey…and give it to those people across the street.”

    So, he got up and ran to the store where he had to wait a long two minutes in line.

    “This is endless! I hate this! I’m going to kill someone…wait…I’m a kind-hearted gentleman.”

    He cut to the front of the line, shoving past two old women and a little boy in a wheelchair. He paid for the turkey and went back home. He set the turkey on the table and got some envelopes.

    “Oh, come on. Fit.” Bob said as he tried to stuff the turkey in the envelope. He finally gave up and just chucked the turkey across the street, sending it through the window and yelling "Merry Christmas!"

    He smiled, pleased with himself. “Job well done.”

    He went back inside and decided to pay his nephew an unexpected Christmas visit that had nothing to do with the story. He got in his car and as he drove away, his house crumbled and turned to dust for no apparent reason other than it was funny.

    “Oh, well.” Bob said. “I’ll live with my nephew and make him do the cooking.”


    The end.