Evening all Scrooge. I am The Ghost Of Christmas Past. You were jolly nasty to your old partner, Bob Marley. So I’ve sent The Wailers around to haunt you a bit. They will (naturally) wail, flap a few white sheets and probably smoke a spliff or three. They also tend to spread some Christmas ectoplasm around, just to give it a glow. If you want chains rattling that will be extra. What do you have to say to that?
Humbug, said Scrooge.
Don’t mind if I do, said TGOCP. Not my first choice of course. I’m more partial to a Quality Street but nowadays the tins get smaller and the price gets bigger. So a humbug is an acceptable substitute.
Scrooge rolled his eyes in disbelief. You’re not a real ghost at all. Christmas Past my aunt Vera. You’re Bob Scratchitt with a wig of dreadlocks. I thought I fired you for turning the heating on. I can’t afford heating any more. Have you seen my bills? Anyway with global warming who needs radiators?
Oh come on Eb, said Bob. Give me a break. Tiny Tim needs help.
He most certainly does, agreed Scrooge. I heard him singing Tiptoe Through The Tulips. What a shocker. I tell you what…… I’ll give you sixpence if you promise never to let him sing again.
It’s a deal, said Bob. They shook hands on it and Bob faded away, leaving Scrooge trembling on the doorstep. He backed slowly into his room and as he did so the ghostly choir struck up ‘Redemption Song’. Bob was still out there.
I wish both my readers a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. Ours is very traditional. Mrs. Ha is ill and has lost her voice. The dog won’t stop barking and I shall probably finish them both off tomorrow as I have volunteered to cook lunch. I hope I can find the tin-opener and corkscrew in time.
A merry chrysalis and a phosphorous blue sneer to you all.