A Dumb Dragon's Special Presentation.
Hello, everybody. It's me, Leosin, just warming everybody up before the show tonight just to let you know what's going on here.
Some of our adventurers have decided to put on a play.
And that play is A Christmas Carol, and we're calling it A Dumb John's Christmas Carol.
It's based on the stage adaptation of Charles Dickens' original work, The Christmas Carol, obviously.
This one originally by Frederick Gaines.
There's so many recognizable voices that you're going to see on stage here, and we can't wait to share it with you.
So please grab your snacks, sit down in the front row here.
Yes, I see you, Arvid. You just have a seat there and we'll get the show going.
Alright, stage is set. I'm getting word that everybody's ready.
And we hope you enjoy this presentation of A Dumb John's Christmas Carol.
The play begins amid a swirl of street life in Victorian London.
Happy groups pass, brightly costumed carolers and families call out to one another and sing.
Joy to the world!
Softly as the children talk.
I've got to get over and clean out the fireplace and Miss Brickenstone's.
I love being a child.
A child in Victorian England is fantastic. Look at that chimney. It's fun.
Let's go! Play in the chimney!
My shift starts in three minutes.
Bob Cratchit, a clerk who works in Scrooge's office, comes in.
He takes some coal from the mound and puts it into a small bucket.
Scrooge's nephew, Fred, enters, talks with the children, gives them coins and sends them away.
With a Merry Christmas.
Here you go. One for you and one for you and three for you.
Merry Christmas, Uncle! Bahamut save you!
Bah, humbug.
Christmas is a humbug, Uncle.
I hope that's meant as a joke.
Well, it's not.
Come, what do you want? Don't waste my time. I don't have all day, nephew.
I only want to wish you a Merry Christmas, Uncle.
Don't be a jerk about it.
Well, what else can I be when I live in such a world of fools as this?
Merry Christmas.
Well, let's out with Merry Christmas.
What's Christmas to you but a time for paying all your bills with no money, by the way?
And a time for finding yourself a year older but no richer?
Richer? If I could work my will, every idiot who would go about with Merry Christmas on his lips
would be boiled in their own pudding and buried with a stick of holly through his heart.
Oh, that is a vivid picture, Uncle.
So nephew, keep Christmas in your own way and let me keep it in mine.
But you don't keep it.
That's right I don't, so you should leave it alone.
Because good may it do you. Much good has it ever done you.
There are a lot of things that I love that don't make me money.
Like, you know, when you get up super early and go on a really long run
and then you plank for like 40 minutes and like that doesn't put any money in my pocket.
But I love it so it's worth it.
And that's what Christmas is all about.
It's done a lot of good for me.
And I say, bah hamet blesset.
Bah.
Don't be angry, Uncle.
Come, have dinner with us tomorrow.
Zumba after dinner.
Oh, yeah, no thanks. I'll dine alone.
But why?
Why?
Why did you get married?
Well, because I fell in love with a wonderful girl.
And I fell in love with myself.
Good afternoon.
Oh, Uncle, you never came to see me before I was married.
So how can you now say, well, now you're married so I'm not going to come?
I said good afternoon.
I'm sorry with all my heart to find you so determined.
But I've made the attempt to honor Christmas and I'm going to keep that good spirit to the last.
So a Merry Christmas to you, Uncle.
A good afternoon.
And a Happy New Year. Bahamats blessings.
Oh, good afternoon.
Fred hesitates as if to say something more.
He sees that Scrooge has gone to get a book down from the shelf and he starts to leave.
As he leaves, the doorbell rings.
Bells!
Is it necessary to always have the fucking bells?
The gentlemen visitors enter, causing the doorbell to ring again.
Cratchit!
Yes, sir?
The bell, fool. See to it. Stop making the noise.
Yes, sir.
He goes to the entrance.
Merry Christmas.
Wolves howling and a Merry Christmas.
It's for you, sir.
No, duh.
You're not receiving anybody here, are you?
Show them in.
Right this way.
The gentlemen visitors approach Scrooge.
Yes? What?
Scrooge and Marley's, I believe.
Have I the pleasure of addressing Mr. Scrooge or Mr. Marley?
Well, let me see.
Molly's dead.
Seven years tonight, so what do you think?
Well, I...
What do you want?
I have no doubt that his kindness is well represented by you, his surviving partner.
Here, sir, our card.
He hands Scrooge his business card.
Kindness? No doubt of it.
All right, all right. I can read. What do you want?
He returns to his work.
At this, the festive season of the year...
Yeah, festive my ass. It's winter and it's cold.
Well, and you make a great point, and that's actually why we're here.
At this time of year, people might like to set aside just a little something for the poor and the penniless
and their suffering because they're outside and it's cold
and they don't even really have like shoes or socks or coats or roofs or food
and, you know, just sort of the common comforts.
People don't have those hundreds of thousands of them.
Oh, are there no debtors' prisons?
Many, sir.
And the workhouse, is it still working?
Yeah, it is still, although I do wish I could say it was not.
And the poor law, is that still like in full strength then?
Yes, sir.
Well, I'm glad to hear it.
From what you said, I was afraid someone had stopped its operation altogether.
Well, because it's such a terrible place and so many people are in need,
a few of us were hoping to raise some money to buy the poor some meat and drink and means of warmth
and, of course, we chose this time of year out of all of the times of year
because everybody feels their want so strongly and everybody's rejoicing in abundance
and what can I put down for you, sir?
Nothing.
Ah, you wish to be anonymous. Very generous.
I wish to be left alone.
And since you asked me what I wish, sir, that's my answer.
I don't make merry myself at Christmas and I can't afford to make lazy people merry either.
I help support the establishments that I have mentioned
and they cost enough money so those who are poorly must go there.
Well, many can't go there and honestly many would rather die than go there.
Okay, well, if they'd rather die they'd better do it and decrease the surplus population.
That's not my business. My business is my business.
It occupies me constantly.
He talks both to the gentleman visitors and himself while he thumbs through his books.
Ask a man to give up life and means. Fine thing.
What is it I want to know? Charity?
Damn charity.
His nose deep in his books, he vaguely hears the dinner bell being rung in the workhouse.
He looks up as if he has heard it but never focuses on the actual scene.
The warder of the poorhouse stands in a pool of light at the far left, slowly ringing a bell.
Dinner! Alright. Come and get it, yo.
The poorly clad, dirty residents of the poorhouse line up and file by to get their evening dish of gruel,
wordlessly accepting it and going back to eat listlessly in the gloom.
Scrooge returns to the business of his office.
The procession continues for a moment, then the image of the poorhouse is hidden by darkness.
The dejected gentleman visitors exit.
Fucking lock the door, Cratchit!
Like, both of them, firmly.
God, draft is cold as Christmas blowing in here. Charity.
Suddenly, carolers appear on the platform and a few phrases of their carol,
Angels we have heard high, are heard.
Scrooge looks up.
Cratchit!
As soon as Scrooge shouts, the carolers vanish and Cratchit begins to close up the shop.
Cratchit!
Yes, sir?
Well, to work, then?
It's evening, sir.
No duh.
It's Christmas evening, sir.
Oh. You want all day off tomorrow, I suppose.
I mean, yeah. Well, if it's convenient, sir.
Yeah, it's not convenient. It's not fair.
If I was to deduct half a crown from your salary for it.
You wouldn't.
You'd think yourself ill-used, wouldn't you?
And you still expect me to pay a day's wage for a day and no work?
It's only once a year, sir.
Be here all the earlier next morning.
I will, sir.
Get out of here.
Yes, sir.
Merry Christmas, sir.
Bah!
As soon as Cratchit opens the door, the sounds of the street begin, very bright and loud.
Cratchit is caught up in a swell of people hurrying down the street.
Children pull him along the top of an ice slide, and he runs and slides down it, disappearing in darkness as the stage suddenly is left almost empty.
Scrooge goes around the room, blowing out candles, talking to himself.
Christmas Eve.
Carolers. Bah!
There. Another day.
He opens his door and peers out.
Dark. Very dark. Now where are they?
The children are heard singing carols for a moment.
Oh, begging pennies for the songs, are they?
Oh, boy.
Grandma's not gonna run by while you're in here!
Hey! Quiet! Quiet! Shut the fuck up down there!
Get off now!
There, that's it.
It's black as pitch out there.
The house of Ebenezer Scrooge.
Yeah. Here's the key.
He turns the key towards the door, and the face of Jacob Marley, Scrooge's deceased business partner, swims out of the darkness.
Scrooge watches, unable to speak.
He fumbles for a match, lights the lantern, and swings it towards the figure, which melts away.
Scrooge fits the key in the lock and turns it as the door suddenly is opened from the inside by the porter, Sparset.
Scrooge is startled, then recovers.
Sparset?
Yes, sir. It is I, Sparset.
Emerging from the shadows, where I live.
Okay, so hurry up. The door. Close it.
Did you knock, sir?
Knock? What the fuck? It's my house. What's the matter?
Never mind. Just give me some light up the stairs.
Yes, sir. I will push back the darkness for you.
He leads Scrooge up the stairs. They pass the cook on the way.
Scrooge brushes by here, stops, looks back, and leans towards him.
Uh, something to warm you, sir.
Porch? It's your favorite.
What?
It's bland. Flavorless.
No. No, nothing.
Waiting for her Christmas coin.
Merry Christmas, sir.
Scrooge ignores the request, and the cook disappears.
Mumbling, Scrooge follows Sparset.
Fucking good.
Looking back after the cook has gone.
Right at the end of his life. Merry Christmas.
Bah!
Your room, sir!
Okay, yeah, it's my... You don't have to... Listen, okay.
You don't have to announce every single fucking room we go into, okay?
It's my house. I know it's my room. Good night.
Understood.
Extending his hand for his coin.
Merry Christmas, sir.
Yes, yes.
He sees the outstretched hand.
He knows what Sparset wants, and is infuriated.
No! Out! Get out!
He closes the door after Sparset, turns towards his chamber,
and discovers the Char Woman, a woman hired to do the cleaning, directly behind him.
I'll warm your bed for you, sir!
What, like, you get in and roll around in it before I get in?
That's weird and unnecessary. No! Out! Get out!
Aye, sir.
She starts for the door. Marley's voice is heard mumbling something unintelligible.
Why you gotta be so rude?
What's that? Is it magic?
Me, sir? Not a thing, sir.
Yeah, okay. Good night, then. Go.
Good night.
She exits, and Scrooge pantomimes, shutting the door behind her.
The voice of Marley over an offstage microphone whispers and reverberates.
Merry Christmas, Scrooge!
Silence.
Scrooge hears the voice, but cannot account for it.
He climbs up to an open window, and looks down.
A cathedral choir singing,
O come all ye table,
is heard in the distance.
Scrooge listens a moment, shuts the window, and prepares for bed.
As soon as he has shut the sound out of his room, figures appear.
They seem to be coming down the main aisle of a church, bearing gifts to the living nursery.
The orchestra plays as the procession files out.
Scrooge, ready for bed, warms himself before the heap of coals.
As he pulls his nightcap from a chair, a small handbell tumbles off onto the floor.
Startled, he picks it up and rings it for reassurance.
An echo answers it.
Scrooge escapes to his bed.
The bell sounds grow to a din, incoherent as in a dream, then suddenly fall silent.
Scrooge sits up in bed, listens, hears the chains of Marley coming up the stairs.
Scrooge reaches for the bell pole to summon Sparset.
The bell responds with a gong, and Marley appears.
He and Scrooge face one another.
Oh, hi, Scrooge!
Hey, it's me!
What do you want with me?
Oh, much.
Who are you?
Oh, more ask who I was.
Don't tell me you had to ask a question.
Who were you?
In life, I was your partner, Jacob Marley.
Okay, so he's dead.
Yes, seven years, this night, Ebeneezer Scrooge.
I said that earlier today, I know.
So why are you here?
I must! It is commanded by me!
I must wander the world and see what I can no longer share.
And what I would not share when I walked where you do.
Yeah, no, that's fucking confusing.
So you, like, have to do something with the chain?
I don't know.
The chains, look at them.
They are very shiny, Ebeneezer, study them.
They are locks and bolts and gold coins.
Seems heavy.
I forged them.
I crafted them with deco pot.
Each link, each day, when I sat in these chairs,
commanded these rooms, greet Ebeneezer and Vel,
feel them, know them.
Yours was as heavy as this I wear seven years ago,
and you have labored to build it since.
So, if you're here to, like, give me a talk and lecture me and stuff,
like, I don't have time for that.
It's really late, it's cold, I don't know if you know that,
and I would like my comforts now.
Oh, I have no comfort for you.
I know not how you see me this night.
I did not ask it.
I was like, Scrooge, I don't want to see him, not on Christmas.
I have sat invisible beside you many and many a day.
That's creepy.
Wishing that I could see you, but not tonight specifically.
I was out on a date, and then they sent me here with these chains again.
I am commanded to bring you a chance, Ebeneezer.
Heed it!
Okay, get on with it then.
You are going to be haunted tonight by three spirits.
Is that, is that, yeah, okay.
Yeah, yeah, mark it, three spirits.
Yeah, no, no, I don't, no, I will not mark it.
Oh, then I will walk where I do.
Yeah, you should walk where you do.
Burdened by your riches, your greed.
I'm burdened?
Okay, listen, ghosts don't mean, they don't mean nothing to me.
Oh, I'm going to slowly back away now.
Expect the first tomorrow when the bell tolls one,
the second the next night at the same hour,
and the third upon the next night when the last stroke of twelve has ended.
So like the same hour?
Look to see me no more.
I've left the room.
I must wander and echo through your halls.
Look over there!
What? No.
Jacob, don't, don't, that was fucking stupid.
Jacob!
Goodbye, Ebeneezer!
At Marley's last words, a funeral procession begins to move across the stage.
A boy walks in front, a priest follows, swinging a censer.
Sounds of mourning and the suggestion of church music are heard.
Scrooge calls out.
Jacob, don't leave me!
As if talking in the midst of a bad dream, Scrooge pulls shut the bed curtains.
The bell sounds are picked up.
The clock begins to chime, ringing the hours.
I need fucking pills.
Scrooge sits up in bed and begins to count the chimes.
Okay, eight, nine, ten, eleven.
What? It can't be.
Twelve? Midnight?
No, not twelve, it can't be.
I haven't slept the whole day through.
Twelve.
Okay, yes, twelve noon.
He hurries to the window and looks out.
Oh, black.
Oh, twelve midnight.
Pause.
I must get up, it's a day wasted.
I gotta get down to the office.
Two small chimes are heard.
Well, that's quarter past, but it just rang twelve.
Fifteen minutes hasn't gone past, that's too fast.
Again, two small chimes are heard.
It's a quarter to one.
The spirit, Molly said he would come at one.
He hurries to his bed as the chimes ring again.
One.
The hour is struck again by a large street clock and the first spirit appears.
It is a figure dressed to look like a little girl's doll.
Are you the spirit who's coming to me that Molly said was coming?
I am.
Oh, okay, who and what are you?
I am the ghost of Christmas past.
Like, like long past, like yesterday, like five years ago.
Your past.
So why are you here?
Your welfare.
Rise, walk with me.
Okay, but I'm just like a mortal person and I can't just float through the air.
My hand.
Scrooge grasps the spirit hand tightly and the doll's bells ring softly.
Scrooge remembers a scene from his past in which two boys greet each other in the street.
Hello, Jack.
Ben.
Merry Christmas, Ben.
Jack Walton?
Young Jack Walton.
Spirits, what is?
Well, have a good holiday, Jack.
Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, I remember him.
Both of them.
That's little Ben Benjamin and he used to...
See you next term, Jack.
Next term.
Oh, yeah, they're off of the holidays and going home from school because it's Christmas time and all the children off home now.
And well, okay, well, no, not all the children there.
There was one.
The spirit motions for Scrooge to turn and he sees a young boy playing with a teddy bear and talking to it.
Yeah, reading.
Poor kid.
What?
I wonder.
Reading?
Oh, it was nothing.
All fantasy and make believe and take me away and shit like that.
Yeah, all of it.
It's just it's all nonsense.
Alibaba.
Yeah, that was it.
Genie, take me to the gates of Damascus.
Yes, old master.
And jewels I shall bring you and gold and myrrh and frankincense.
And they put him down.
Do you remember?
That silly one at the gate of Damascus in his under drawers asleep.
Yes.
The genie turned the sultan's groom upside down and stood him on his head.
Served him right, I say.
And all the thieves and the jars of oil.
Scrooge pretends to stab the jars of oil with his scimitar.
Yes.
And running them true.
This and this and this for each of you.
Yes.
And remember?
Do you remember?
Remember Robinson Crusoe?
And the parrot.
It was the parrot I loved him best.
Imitating the parrot.
With his stripey green body and yellow tail drooping along and couldn't sing.
But could talk.
And a thing like lettuce grown out the top of his head.
And he used to sit on the very top of the tree up there.
And Robinson Crusoe sailed around the island.
And he thought the parrot said.
The parrot said.
Robinson Crusoe, where you been?
And Robinson Crusoe looked up in the tree.
He saw the parrot and he knew he hadn't escaped and he was still there.
He's still alone there.
Poor Robinson Crusoe.
Poor kid.
Why poor?
It's all fantasy.
He tries to mask his feelings by being impolite.
But it's his way, you know.
It's a kid's way to lose being alone and just dreaming.
And that doesn't matter because it's all nonsense.
Yeah.
It's just nonsense.
But he's going to be alright.
He's going to grow out of it.
Yeah.
He did grow out of it.
All that nonsense.
Became a man.
And left there.
And he became.
Yeah.
A man.
And yeah.
And successful.
And rich.
The sadness returns.
Never matter.
Fan, Scrooge's sister, runs in and goes to Child Scrooge.
Fan?
Brother.
Dear brother.
She kisses Child Scrooge.
Dear dear Fan.
I've come to bring you home.
Home for good and ever.
Come with me.
Come now.
She takes his hand and they start to run off,
but the spirit stops them and signals for the light on them to fade.
They look at the spirit,
aware of their role in the spirit's education of Scrooge.
Well, let me watch him go.
Let him be happy for like a minute.
The spirit says nothing.
Scrooge turns away from them and the light goes out.
A delicate, delicate child.
Like a soft breeze might have blown her over.
She dies a woman and had, as I remember, children.
One child.
Your nephew?
Yes.
Yeah.
Fred.
My nephew.
Scrooge pauses, then tries to bluster through.
Well, all of us have that, haven't we?
Like childhood, sadness, trauma.
But we grow and we become men.
Masters of ourselves.
The spirit gestures for the music, Fezzowig's Party, to begin.
It is heard first as from a great distance.
Then Scrooge becomes aware of it.
I've no time for it, spirit.
Music?
And now your Christmas bullshit?
Yes, yes.
I've learned what you have to show me.
Fezzowig, young Ebenezer, and Dick appear busily preparing for the party.
Oh, there.
Ebenezer, Dick, come on in.
Fezzowig?
It's old Fezzowig that I apprentice under.
Your master?
Oh, yes.
And the best that any boy could have.
And there's Dick Wilkins.
Oh, God.
He was very much attached to me, was Dick.
Oh, poor Dick.
My boys, my boys, no more work tonight.
Step away from your stations.
It's Christmas Eve.
Ebenezer, Dick, stop the work.
Let's have the shutters up before a man can say
Jack Robinson.
The music continues.
Chandeliers are pulled into position.
And Mistletoe, Holly, and Ivy are draped over everything
by buffling servants.
Dancers fill the stage for Fezzowig's wonderful Christmas party.
In the midst of the dancing and the laughter,
servants pass back and forth through the crowd
with huge platters of food.
At a pause in the music, young Ebenezer,
who was dancing, calls out.
Mr. Fezzowig, sir, you're a wonderful master.
A wonderful master.
The music changes suddenly, and the dancers
jerk into distorted postures
and then begin to move in slow motion.
The celebrants slowly exit,
performing a ghoulish dance to the jarring sounds.
Well, that's fucking weird.
That was creepy.
Just because he gave us a party,
it was very small.
Small?
He spent a few pounds of your mortal money.
Three, four at the most.
Is that so much that he deserves this praise?
Yeah, okay, but listen.
It wasn't about the money.
He had the power to make us happy,
to make our service light,
or give us a shit-ton of work.
The happiness he gives us
quite as great as if it had cost a fortune.
That's what a good master is.
Yes?
Uh, nothing.
Something, I think.
Well, I should like to be able to say
a word or two to my clerk just now.
That's all.
But this is all in your past.
Your clerk, Cratchit, couldn't be here.
No, no, no, no, of course not.
It was an idle thought.
Are we done?
Motioning for the waltz music to begin.
Nearly.
Hearing the waltz and remembering it.
Oh, surely it's enough.
Haven't you tormented me enough?
Young Ebenezer has seen waltzing
with his sweetheart.
I only show the past,
what it promised you.
Look, another promise.
Oh, oh, yes.
I'd forgotten her.
Don't they dance beautifully?
So young, so young.
I would have married her if only...
Can you love me, sweet Ebenezer,
a simple janitor?
I bring no dowry into my marriage,
only me, only love.
It is no currency that you can buy and sell with,
but we can live with it.
Can you?
She pauses, then returns the ring
Scrooge gave her as his pledge.
I release you, sweet Ebenezer,
for the love of the man you once were.
Will that man win me again
now that he is free?
If only it held me to it.
You shouldn't have let me go.
I was young, I did love you.
We have never lied to one another.
May you be happy in the life you have chosen.
Goodbye!
She runs out.
Young Ebenezer slowly leaves.
No, no, it didn't go down like that.
You cannot change now,
what you would not change then.
I am your mistakes, Ebenezer Scrooge.
All of the things you could have done and did not.
Then go.
I've done with them.
I'll live with them.
I've been living with them,
and I'll continue to live with them.
There is another Christmas,
seven years ago,
when Marley died.
No.
I will not see it.
I will not.
He dies.
I couldn't prevent it.
I couldn't stop it.
I didn't choose for him to die on Christmas Day, okay?
And when his day was chosen,
what did you do then?
Well, I looked after his affairs.
His business.
Yes, his business.
Mine.
It was all I had.
All I could do in this world.
I have nothing to do with the world that comes after.
Then I will leave you.
Hold up.
Not yet.
No, you can't leave me here.
You gotta tell me what I have to do.
What's going on with the other spirits?
They will come.
Bond you?
What are you gonna do?
I am always with you.
Oh, that's creepy.
Scrooge numbly heads to bed.
Signal the chiming of Scrooge's bell.
Scrooge sits upright in bed as he hears the chimes.
One minute until when?
No one here?
Well, no one's coming.
A larger clock strikes one o'clock.
A light comes on.
Scrooge becomes aware of it and goes slowly to it.
He sees the second spirit, the spirit of Christmas present,
who looks like Fezzowick.
Fezzowick?
Hello, Scrooge.
But you can't be.
Not Fezzowick.
Is that who you see me as?
Yeah.
Well, do you hear me as him as well?
Uh-huh, yeah.
Well, you should probably get your eyes and ears checked, old man,
because I am not that gentleman.
So I'm sorry to disappoint you.
But you're not...
No, no I'm not, Scrooge.
You have never seen the like of me before.
I am the ghost of Christmas present,
here to give you...
Hold on.
You still choose to see what you will, don't you, Scrooge?
But you're not going to see it anymore.
Not if you take a walk with me on this Christmas Eve.
Would you take a walk with me?
Yeah, I'm in my...
I'm in my jammies.
Oh, don't worry about that.
Take my tails, dear boy,
for we're heading out into the world.
Like the edges of your pants?
No, my tail.
I am a spirit with a tail.
That's what I wanted when I took the role, so...
Just grab the tail.
It's totally fine.
Oh, okay.
Don't wag it.
It's weird.
Wait, wait, hold on.
You're wagging it.
Just...
Okay, let's go.
What is it now?
Wait.
Christmas present, you said?
That I did.
Then we're traveling here?
Yes.
In this town?
Yeah.
Yeah, of course.
Okay, then we could walk, right?
Because you fly in, well, it's...
It's too much for an old man's hut.
The first one didn't talk about...
They definitely did.
I know them fairly well.
So it's your Christmas, Scoot.
Scooch.
That's what they used to call me when I was a kid.
And it's really offensive, and I don't like it.
I apologize.
I apologize, Scooch.
Scrooge.
It's your Christmas.
I am merely the guide.
Can we whack?
Fine.
The spirit nods.
Ugh.
Okay, well, we a guide meet you.
Oh, you're gonna like this one.
Are you ready?
You ready?
No.
I've been ready this whole time.
Well, get ready.
It's Bob Cratchit's.
Let's go.
My clerk?
Yeah, you said you wanted to talk to him.
That's...
That's what Christmas Past told me.
Don't worry if you don't want to talk to Bob.
You won't have to.
In fact, it may be better that way.
Yeah, well, you know, it shouldn't be too much of a trip.
With 15 Bob a week, how far off can it be?
It's a world away, Scrooge.
At least that far.
Scrooge and the spirit start to step off a curb
when a funeral procession enters with the child's coffin,
followed by the poor house children who are singing.
Follow them, Scrooge.
Follow the music.
The procession follows the coffin off stage.
Scrooge and the spirit exit after the procession.
As they leave, the lights focus on Mrs. Cratchit and her children.
Mrs. Cratchit sings as she puts Tiny Tim and the other children to bed,
all in one bed.
She pulls a dark blanket over them.
When you wake, you shall have all the pretty little horses,
demon steeds, poison breath freed, all the pretty demon horses.
Go to sleep now, all of you.
Tomorrow is Christmas.
She kisses them and goes to Bob Cratchit, who is by the hearth.
How did Tiny Tim behave?
Oh, as good as can be expected.
And better.
You know, he told me it was super cute coming home,
that he hoped people might see him in the church
because he's differently abled
and they might be able to reflect on how good they have it.
That's kind of fucked up.
But he's a good boy.
The second spirit and Scrooge enter.
Mrs. Cratchit feels a sudden draft.
Oh.
The wind.
Hurry.
She gets up and shuts the door.
Hurry along, Scrooge.
Quick.
Like the wind here.
He nudges Scrooge in before Mrs. Cratchit shuts the door.
I'm coming.
She hardly has spitables, what I'd say.
Oh, I think they'd say a great deal more, Scrooge,
if only they could see you.
Oh, they should, should they?
Well, I might have a word for them.
You're here to listen?
Oh, oh, yes.
All right, well, then would you like to sit by the fire, please?
Fine.
Okay, but not a word.
No.
No talking, all listening.
You too.
Believe me, I've got this down now.
I think Bob's about to speak, so pay attention to this.
Raising his glass, my dear, to Mr. Scrooge.
I give you Mr. Scrooge, the founder of the feast.
Lord of the feast, indeed.
If I had him here, I'd give him the flat of my axe to feast upon.
I'm sure he'd have a good appetite for it.
Not surprising.
My dear, it is Christmas Eve.
Yes, Christmas Eve, where we drink to the health of the cowardly, the odious,
the stingy, hard, unfeeling men like Mr. Scrooge.
You know he is, Robert.
Nobody knows it better than you do, poor dear.
Oh, boy, you only call me Robert when you're angry.
Well, I know there's one thing, and that's on Christmas, one must be charitable.
I'll drink a flagon to his health for your sake before the days,
and not to waste the ale.
Not for his.
Long life to him.
Merry Christmas, Happy New Year.
He'll be very merry, I have no doubt.
Well, if he cannot be, we must be happy for him.
A song, a song is what's needed.
Shush!
Tim!
I just got them down.
He needs all the sleep he can get.
Oh, if Tim's asleep on Christmas Eve, I'll be much mistaken.
Tim! Tim!
He must sing, dear.
There's nothing else that might make him well.
That's not how this works.
What's up?
You up?
Just a little bit.
A song, then.
Entertain us.
One of Dad's rousing midnight song times.
Yeah, let's go sing a song.
Okay, let's do this.
Here we go.
What child is this?
I don't know.
Ready, and a three, and a two, and a one, two, three.
What child is this?
I don't know the words.
Every time, I know I've fucked it up.
Sorry, Dad.
As they sing, Scrooge speaks.
Spirit.
Yeah, one second.
He holds up his hand.
I'll stop singing and look at him.
Oh, yeah.
I've seen enough.
When the spirit signals to the children,
they leave the stage, singing the carol quietly.
Tiny Tim remains, covered completely by the dark blanket,
disappearing against the black.
Tiny Tim, will he live?
Oh, I'm sure he'll be fine.
No, Scrooge, he's very ill.
Oh, God.
I don't know when the last time you went and saw a doctor was,
but they typically don't prescribe music as medicine.
Oh, yeah.
Well, I mean, that's, yeah, that's reasonable,
but you still haven't answered my question.
Imitating Scrooge.
If he be like today, he had better do it
and decrease the seropelous population.
Scrooge turns away.
Erase, Scrooge.
Erase those words from your thoughts.
You are not the judge, so do not judge.
It may be that in the sight of heaven,
you are more worthless and less fit to live
than millions like this poor man's child.
And oh, the gods, to hear an insect on a leaf
pronouncing that there's too much life
among hid, hungry brothers in the dust.
Well, to that, I say goodbye, Scrooge.
Wait, wait, but is there no happiness in Christmas present?
What would you do with happiness?
There is.
Well, take me there.
It's at the home of your nephew, Scrooge.
Nope, nope, nope, never mind.
Then there is none.
But that isn't enough.
You've got to teach me.
It's your job.
Would you even have a teacher, Scrooge?
Take a look at your own words.
Well, the first spirit gave me more.
Yes, the past.
Me?
I only have this day, one day,
and I am stuck with you, Scrooge.
I have nearly lived my fill of both.
Christmas present must be gone at midnight.
That is near now.
He speaks to two beggar children
who pause shyly at the far side of the stage.
The children are thin and sickly.
They are barefoot and wear filthy rags.
Come to me, children.
They go to him.
Is this the last spirit who's come to me?
No, Scrooge, it is not.
They are no spirits.
These are, well, they're real.
This one's hunger.
Hey.
And this one, ignorance.
Uh-uh.
No, not spirits, Scrooge.
They are but passing dreams.
But they are real, and they walk your streets.
They look to people like you for comfort.
But you deny them.
And if you deny them too long, Scrooge,
they will grow and multiply,
and they will not remain children,
if you understand my meaning.
Well, don't they have any where to go,
like a place for help?
Again, imitating Scrooge.
Are there no prisons?
Are there no workhouses?
Tenderly to the children.
Come, children.
It's Christmas Eve.
Let's leave this miser to himself.
He leads the children off stage.
I don't sound like that.
Scrooge is entirely alone for a long moment.
He is frightened by the darkness
and feels it approaching him.
Suddenly he stops,
senses the presence of the third spirit,
turns towards him and sees him.
The spirit is bent and cloaked.
No physical features are distinguishable.
You are the third.
The spirit says nothing.
Uh, nothing.
Uh, the ghost of Christmas yet to come?
The spirit says nothing.
Oh, well, that's not going to get very far.
Yeah, that's me.
Okay, so you can't speak to me then,
so you tell me what's going to happen to me,
to all of us.
The spirit says nothing.
Oh, this guy is just telling me to say nothing.
Well, just, you know, just come along over here.
Okay, you're going to show me what I got to see?
Yeah, like, look.
The spirit points.
Light illuminates the shadows of Scrooge's house.
Recognize that house?
Well, yeah, I know it.
Yeah, it's the house you're in.
I know it well.
It's the house Scrooge built.
That's right, it's cold, it's cheerless, it's mine.
The cook and the charwoman are dimly visible
in Scrooge's house.
What is, what the fuck?
The thieves, the thieves in my rooms!
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
Coolant?
He starts forward to confront them,
but the spirit beckons for him to stop.
Hold on, I'm holding you back.
I cannot, you can't tell me that I gotta watch him
and do nothing?
This is the Christmas future.
You can't affect that.
You're a spirit now, too.
I will not, it is mine still.
He rushes into the house to claim his belongings
and to protect them.
The two women do not notice his presence.
Well, he, uh, he ain't about, is he?
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.
Well, let's try another new laugh.
Okay, cool.
Uh, poor old Scrooge just met his end again.
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.
Oh, yeah, still sticking with it.
I like this one.
Yeah, that's fair.
It's good.
It fits you well.
And time for it, too.
Ain't been alive, indeed, for Raffy's life.
Alive?
Okay, now I hate asking this question,
but the sparse, it's nowhere, is he?
Emerging from the blackness.
I emerge from the darkness.
Oh, shit.
Where, where it is my home
in the blackness and the darkness?
Why have you been looking for Sparset?
The cook shrieks,
but the charwoman treats the matter more practically,
anticipating competition from Sparset.
Look, now, get out of here.
There ain't enough before the two of us.
More than enough if you know where to look
in the shadows.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
He's hardly, hardly decent
is what I'd say, hardly decent.
Oh, the poor old fella, hardly no.
He's hardly cold,
and you're thieving his wardrobe.
What's hot coat?
Oh, there's no time for that.
Sparset acknowledges Scrooge for the first time,
gesturing towards him
as if the living Scrooge were the corpse.
Scrooge stands as if rooted to the spot,
held there by the power of the spirit.
What the hell?
He isn't about to bother us, is he?
Well, ain't he a picture?
Oh, he isn't a happy one.
He isn't a happy one.
Ladies, shall we start?
The three of them grin and advance on Scrooge,
snatching the cufflinks from the shirt Scrooge wears.
Hey.
Oh, they're gold, ain't they?
The purest, madam.
Those are mine.
I always had a fancy for that knight capes.
My old man could use it.
She takes the knight cap from Scrooge's head.
Sparset playfully removes Scrooge's outer garment,
the coat or cloak that he has worn in the previous scenes.
Excuse me?
Be a man of practical tastes.
Born in the darkness, I will go for the worsted
and hope that the smell is not permanent.
Cook, we go around again.
I think that little bell he's always ringing at me
is silver enough to sell.
The three of them move toward the nightstand,
and Scrooge cries out.
No more! No more!
As the spirit directs Scrooge's attention
to the tableau of the three thieves
standing poised over the silver bell,
Scrooge bursts out of the house,
clad only in his knight shirt.
Listen, I know I'm half naked, but I cannot.
I can't.
This room, it's too, like a cheerless place
and it's like so familiar and I won't see it.
Let's go. Let's go anywhere but here.
I mean, you decorated it, but yeah, sure.
Let's look at house number two.
Come on down.
The spirit directs his attention to the Cratchit house.
The children are sitting together near Ms. Cratchit,
who is sewing a coat.
Peter reads by the light of the coals.
And he took a child and sat him in the midst of them,
putting her hand to her face.
The light tires my eyes so.
Pause.
They're better now.
It makes them tired to try to see by firelight.
And I would not show reddened eyes to your father
when he comes home from the world.
It must be near his time now.
Pasty to think.
But he walks slower than he used to
these last few days, mother.
I have known him to walk with tiny Tim
upon his shoulder very fast indeed.
She catches herself, then hurries on.
But he was very light to carry,
and his father loved him,
so that was no trouble.
No trouble.
She hears Bob Cratchit approaching.
Smiles, everyone.
Smiles.
Entering.
My dear, Peter.
All the other children.
How's it coming?
Handing him the coat.
Nearly done.
Yes, yes, good, good, good.
I'm sure that it will be done long before Sunday.
Sunday.
You went today, then, Robert.
Yes, it's already.
Two o'clock and a nice place.
It would have done you good to see how green it is.
But you'll see it often.
I promised him that.
That I would walk there on Sunday often.
We mustn't hurt ourselves for it, Robert.
No, no, he wouldn't have wanted that.
But come now.
You won't guess who I've seen.
Scrooge's nephew, Fred.
And he asked after us,
and he said he was heartily sorry,
and to give his respect to my good wife.
How he ever knew that, I don't know.
Knew what, my dear?
Why, that you were a good wife.
Everybody knows that.
Well, I hope that they do.
Heartily sorry, he said, for your good wife.
And if I can be of service to you in any way,
then he gave me his card.
That's where I live.
And Peter, I shouldn't be at all surprised
if he got you a position.
Only hear that, Peter.
And then you'll be keeping company
with some young girl and setting up for yourself.
Aw, come on.
Well, it will happen one day.
But remember, when that day comes, as it must,
we must none of us forget poor Tiny Tim
and this first parting in our family.
He died?
No.
He steps back, and the scene disappears.
He moves away from the spirit.
Because he wouldn't.
No, you can't tell me that he died.
For that Christmas hasn't happened yet.
And I will let it happen.
I'll be there.
Yeah, me.
And yeah, I knew it.
And I couldn't look.
And I won't be able to help.
I won't.
But spirit, hear me.
I'm not the man I was.
I won't be that man that I've been all these years.
So why show me all this if I'm past all hope?
Assure me that yet I may change these shadows that you show me?
Let the boy live.
I'll honor Christmas in my heart
and try to keep it there all the other days of the year.
And I will in past, the present, and the future.
The spirits of all three is going to live within me.
But not in a weird way, but like in my heart and stuff.
And I won't shadow the lessons that I was taught today.
Just tell me that I'm not too late.
Blackout!
When the lights come up again, Scrooge is in bed.
The third spirit has disappeared.
Scrooge awakens and looks around his room.
The curtains.
They're mine and they're real.
And they're not sold.
They're here.
And I'm here.
And I have to give a raise to my house help.
Because otherwise when I die, they're going to rob me blind.
And I don't blame them.
And I'm here.
The shadows has been dispelled.
And they will be.
I know they will be.
He dresses himself hurriedly.
I can't go out naked.
That's a modesty law we have here.
Now I don't know what to do.
As light as a feather, I have a second life.
I'm merry as a boy again.
Merry Christmas.
I've got to practice.
Happy New Year to all the world.
I don't think I've said those words in my entire life.
Hello there.
Whoop.
I've never whooped before.
Hello.
What day of the month is it?
That's a weird question to ask.
But I'm wondering how long did the spirits keep me?
Whatever.
I don't care.
He opens the window and calls to a boy on the street below.
You there, boy.
What's today?
Eh?
Like the day, my fine fellow.
Today?
Why, it's Christmas Day.
I thought I was the dense one here.
It's Christmas Day?
I haven't missed it.
The spirits have done it all in one night.
Gosh, they can do anything, hey?
Okay, so of course they can.
Of course they can save Tim.
Excuse me.
Hello.
Yes, my fine fellow.
Hello?
Do you know the Chickaneers in the next street in the corner?
I should hope I do.
Oh, you're so smart.
Oh, a remarkable boy.
Okay, so do you know whether they sold that prize turkey that was hanging up there?
Not the small little one.
That thing was bullshit.
But like the really big one.
The one as big as me?
Yes, what a delightful boy.
Yes, my bucko.
Yeah, I'm a bucko.
Yeah, you are.
It's in there now.
It's hanging in there.
It is?
Go and buy it.
I don't have any money.
No, no, for realsies.
Go and buy it.
And tell him to bring it here.
And I'll pay him when they get here.
Don't you worry about it.
They know I'm good for it.
And I'm going to give them the direction where to take it.
Okay?
So you come back with the butcher and the really big turkey.
And I'll give you a shelling.
Or if you come back in less than two minutes, I'll give you half a crown.
You betcha.
He exits.
I'll send it to Bob Cratchits.
He's not going to know who sent it.
Oh, it's going to be twice the size of Tiny Tim.
It really needs to make sure it doesn't fall on him.
That would be a really dark twist in this story.
But, like, what a Christmas dinner it'll make.
Carolers suddenly appear, singing,
Hark the herald angels sing.
Scrooge leans out the window and joins them in the song.
Glory to the newborn king.
Oh, wow.
Oh, God, I'm not dressed.
I got to dress.
Christmas day.
I got to look my best.
I got to look my best for such a day.
Where's my silk shirt?
The boy and the butcher run in with the turkey.
Oh, God, I'm not dressed.
What?
You're back already?
Whoa, that's a turkey.
You can't carry that all the way back to the Cratchits.
Okay, here, boy.
Here's your half a crown.
And here's an address in Camden Town.
You see that?
See that?
It gets there.
Here, money for the cap and for the turkey.
And for you, good man.
The boy and the butcher, delighted, catch the money and run out.
Scrooge sees the gentleman visitors walking by the window.
Hello there.
Oh, oh, hi.
My dear, my dear, how do you do?
I hope you succeeded yesterday.
It was very kind of you to stop by and see me.
Mr. Scrooge?
That's my name.
Don't wear it out.
Although that's probably not like a really good name for you to hear
because associations and whatnot.
But allow me to ask for your forgiveness.
And will you have the goodness to add this?
Throwing him a purse?
To your good work.
Oh, oh, my goodness.
My dear Mr. Scrooge, are you serious?
If you please.
And not a penny less.
A great many back payments are included in it, I assure you.
Will you do me that favor?
My dear sir, we don't know what we can say to such generosity.
Say nothing, just accept it.
Come and see me.
Will you come and see me?
Yeah, of course we will.
Thank you.
I'm much obliged to you.
Thank you 50 times.
And God's bless you.
And Merry Christmas.
Merry Christmas to you, sir.
Merry Christmas.
Running downstairs out of his house and on to the street.
Now, which way is it to that nephew's house of mine?
Girl?
Yes, sir.
Could you please be so kind as to find me a taxi?
I can, sir.
A coachman appears.
Here, can you show me the way to this home?
I can, sir.
Spassett?
I'm gigging, is it, Uber driver?
Because I don't make enough money.
Oh, heard, my dear fellow, heard.
And it will be rectified, I promise.
Thank you.
Excuse me, my dear girl, would you be an old man's guide to a Christmas dinner?
Make sure I don't make a fool of myself and such.
They mount to the top of the taxi.
I would, sir.
And God's bless you.
God's bless us, everyone.
Raising his voice, almost in song.
Driver to Christmas.
They exit.
Blackout.
The lights come up for the finale at Fred's house.
The Cratchits are there with Tiny Tim.
I'll stop moving and talking when they hear knocking on the door.
Okay, so we're going to do the step ball change, and then you're going to lift the hand.
And Tiny Tim, if you, you actually can just watch my dear sweet wife.
She's going to do an alternate sort of modified version.
Okay.
Okay, I'm just going to grab the door.
Everybody practice.
Uncle Scrooge.
Yeah, yeah, hi.
Hi, Merry Christmas.
Come in.
Thank you.
I brought a whole bunch of people with me.
Everyone's very welcome.
Please come in.
Somehow, mysteriously, a giant turkey arrived.
Oh, what a surprise.
I'm very glad to be here with your friend at your house.
Oh, well, I'm very glad to have you here with us, too.
Maybe meet your, maybe meet your wife finally.
She would love that.
Just, oh, come on in, come on in.
Who is this stranger?
Merry Christmas.
This is my uncle.
I told you so much about him.
Oh, nice to meet you on Christmas.
I am so sorry for everything that Fred probably said that was 110% true.
But I want to make it up to you.
I've been holding my hands above my head for far too long.
Okay, yeah, everybody.
Okay, let's take a break.
We can take a break, everybody.
You don't need to.
Everyone's here.
I just, I just want to say Merry Christmas.
Merry Christmas.
Yeah, yeah.
I'm still working on it, too.
They sing, greeting one another and exchanging gifts.
Scrooge puts Tiny Tim on his shoulders.
Whoa, there you go.
Whoa, hey, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
I probably should have asked first.
I'm so sorry.
Like, geez.
You're very carryable.
I saw Cratchit do it like a hundred times.
Yeah, no, well, that's, that's the mobility thing, but it's okay.
Bahama bless us, everyone.
Oh, yeah, what he said.
A Dungeon's Christmas Carol is based on the stage adaptation of Charles Dickens' original
work by Frederick Gaines.
Starring Carla Maxted as Fred and Gentleman Visitor Number One, Tom Laird as Bob Cratchit,
Ben Benjamin and Sweetheart of Scrooge, Russ Morris Cook, Jacob Marley, Third Spirit
and Tiny Tim, Kyle Claset as Fezziwig and Second Spirit, Kristen Flemmons as
Char Woman, Mrs. Cratchit and Young Scrooge, Abdul Aziz as Gentleman Visitor Number Two
in Sparse It, Cicero Holmes as First Spirit, Warder, Boy and Girl, Rev Deshaen as Jack
Walton and fan Scrooge's sister, with Amy More as Scrooge and Justin Foisey as
your scene narrator.
Production and sound design by Russ More.
This episode featured music from Epidemic Sound and Artlist, sound effects from
Epidemic Sound, Boom Library, Sound Ideas and Sound Snap.
A huge thank you to our supporting producers.
Thank you so much for listening to this special presentation of a Dungeon's
Christmas Carol.
We hope like many other holiday favorites, it becomes part of your
yearly listening traditions.
And from all of us to you, we wish you a happy and safe holiday season
spent with family and friends.
Thank you.
There you go.
Beautiful.
It's great.
Nailed it.
We don't even have to do that a second time.
No, no, I think that's good enough.
No notes.
Print.
Got it in one.
That's why we take our headphones off.
Scrooge fits.
Scrooge fits the key.
Dumbgeons and Dragons is a Dumb Dragons production.