Throughout all of London, everyone was celebrating Christmas Eve. The markets were filled with villagers getting last minute gifts, decorations, and foods. Among them, three people were trying to sell apples. One was a teen guy wearing a tan coat, red scarf, and black high silk hat, another was a girl wearing a black gown, and the youngest wore a brown cap and coat.
The older guy noticed the young boy eating one of the apples. “Hey. Hey! Gamer, how are we supposed to sell apples if you keep eating?”
“I’m adding assurance. People see me eating apples and they’d want to have a taste too.” The kid shrugged.
Before the older guy could guy could argue more, the girl poked his shoulder. “Uh hey. Hey.”
“Wha?” The guy turned to seem to notice someone. “Oh! Hello! Welcome to this presentation of A Christmas Carol. I will be your narrator this evening.”
“And we’re here to help out.” The boy spoke for him and the girl who nodded.
“My name is Charles Dickens.”
“I’m Karai.”
“And I’m Gamer.” Gamer then turned to Charles Dickens (Shine Boy). “So, Mr. Dickens, if I can call you that, how long have you been wearing that mask?”
Charles just deadpanned at Gamer’s question. “Maybe I don’t want to be swarmed by my generations of fans while I’m telling my masterpiece.”
“Well, your ‘fans’ are waiting to hear you tell the story, Charles.” Karai smirked, as hinting him to start the story.
“Oh Right!” Charles cleared his throat and began his story.
Jacob Marley was dead….
“Whoa! Whoa! We haven’t started the story and already there’s a body count?” Gamer blurted. “And this is supposed to be a kid show!”
“That’s how the story starts! Jacob Marley was dead. Besides, he’s dead to begin with.” Charles explained before he continued.
His business and heritance were given to his old business partner, Mr. Ebenezer Scrooge.
“Who?” Karai raised her brow.
“Ebeneezer Scrooge. You will know who he is as he turns from that corner.” Charles pointed.
“Which corner?” Gamer asked.
“That one.”
“When?” Karai asked.
“Now.”
Then, as if on que, a tall man wearing a black coat and silk hat with a cane came from the corner (Dr. Mallow). He had light blue skin and blue hair and wore glasses.
There he is. Mr. Ebeneezer Scrooge.
Scrooge angrily walked past everybody without interacting with anybody.
“Hey, did it just get colder all the sudden?” Gamer wondered.
“Good. It’s not just me.” Karai agreed.
As Scrooge passed by, villagers either looked at him in fear or anger as they began to sing.
Scrooge didn’t stop for anyone from beggars to marketers. Even a trio of choir singers’ (CMCs) soft music didn’t even wow him.
Scrooge liked the cold. He was hard and sharp as a flint. Secret and self-contained. As solitary as an oyster.
As the villagers sang, Scrooge walked up to a counting house labeled ‘Scrooge and Marley’.
“Everyday! And every hour, Scrooge is getting worse!” the villagers sang, finishing their song.
When Scrooge turned around glaring at them, they all quickly went back to their businesses to avoid him.
“Humbug.” He mumbled as he entered his counting house. Charles, followed by Gamer and Karai, hurried next to a window and continued to narrate.
“He was a tight-fisted hand to the grindstone, old Scro-” he paused to notice the window was filthy. “Wow! This really is a dirty city.” He pulled out his hankie and wiped it off. “There we go.”
“Here. Give it here.” Gamer accepted the handkerchief as Charles cleared his throat.
He was a tight-fisted hand to the grindstone, old Scrooge. A squeezing, wrenching, rasping, clutching, covetous old sinner! As cold and damp as the counting house he conducted his own business.
To be Continued