Dayumn! That was a tour de force de Dope if e’er a tour de force de Dope there was!
I think I just burned myself out. 
I’ve just been watching the TV series and this is an excellent parody!
And now, in response to What Exit?, the radio version by Tolkien:
Part one - an unexpected meal
Tale Bearer: In a slum in the East End lived a pauper.
Tiny Tim: Yes, it was a nasty dirty wet slum - my family were really poor and that means discomfort.
Tale Bearer: It had a weatherbeaten door painted grey, which opened on to a simple two-up, two-down house, with damp walls and floors bare and cold and lots of cracks for cockroaches and silverfish…
Tiny Tim: We never get any visitors, d’you see.
Tale Bearer: And they never had any dosh. The hall was short, with a couple of warped doors leading off it. Nobody wanted to go upstairs, becasue the stairs were not safe.
Tiny Tim: By the way, my name is Cratchit, C-R-A-T-C-H-I-T, Tim Cratchit, and at your service and your families…
Tale Bearer: Yes, I suppose paupers need some description nowadays since they have become so rare. Paupers are, or were, poorer than the working-class.
Tiny Tim: We may be poorer than the working-class, but at least we’re not in the poorhouse.
Tale Bearer: They’re inclined to be gaunt in the stomach.
Tiny Tim: Slender, like very slim elves, I think.
Tale Bearer: Oh very well, very well, they’re inclined to be slender and dress in boring colours chiefly grey and washed-out. They wear no shoes because they can’t afford them. They have gnarled, dirty fingers, haggard faces and laugh seldom…
Tiny Tim: Especially after a meal…
Tale Bearer: Which they have twice a week if they can get it.
Three Spirits And A Miser - To Say Nothing Of The Crippled Infant - Jerome K Jerome
The trouble with having money - the real trouble of it is that when you have it, other people - who do not have it for themselves - wish to spend yours, or at the very least, direct you as to how you should spend it. A piece of coal here, a charitable donation there - and before long, the whole thing has taken on a life of its own and you are a servant to it.
There is little in this world more infuriating than a poor, penniless layabout who thinks he knows how responsible, hardworking gentleman of means should be conducting his affairs, and is not afraid to speak out on the matter.
And that was entirely the problem with Ebeneezer Scrooge - or rather, you might say - that was entirely the problem with Bob Cratchitt. Scrooge was indeed a man of some means, whereas Cratchitt was his impoverished employee.
On occasion, Cratchitt had meekly suggested to his miserly, penny-pincher of an employer that the purchase of a little more coal for the fire, or a candle for the writing desk was not excessive at all, but the old hoarder always snapped back at him in scorn.
The trouble with being poor - the real trouble of it is that when you most need it, other people - who have many times more than they could ever find use for - cannot bring themselves to render due payment for even the most right and proper expenditure.
For there is little in this world more infuriating than a rich, selfish miser who will not listen to humane reason regarding the worthy application of there merest few copper pennies out of his vast fortune, and is not afraid to retort sharply on the matter…
Holy living crap Malacandra!
That was both amazing to read, and amazing that you wrote that
Congrats (wo)man…hats off to you
Man, and thank you. What can I say? It practically wrote itself in an afternoon. 
'Twas twofourdec, and the marley ghost
Did gyre and gimble to the scrooge,
All lonsy was the neezermost.
And the golpiles he did hooge.
.
Beware the Jabberspirits my son!
The jaws that talk, the claws that catch!
Beware the flight and shung
The eggnogiest Xmasersnatch!"
Neezer said “Humbug,“ and went to bed
Long time the sleepdream foe he sought—
So visited he by the Xmasghost threed,
In hopes of changing him like they ought.
And the first the uffish past he showed
The childneezer, alone and lonely.
No whifflings left at the empty shold.
And on Xmas was neezer only.
One, two! One, two! And neezer saw crachitt
And tinytim, legs all lame and crookjack
His heart felt badbibes. It made much rachitt.
Seeing him carried by crachitt up on his back
.
"And willst thou show me the future? I looge.
One, two, three! Let me goome each her & him.
I promise you I will be nommore scrooge.
I’ll be happy and good.to bobcrachitt & tim.
And so neezer learn. It was Xmasday.
Get the goose. Xmasday here, my boy!.
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"
He chortled in his neezerxmas joy.
Ah, a Christmas Carroll.
Snerk
Well done.
And allow me to add to the kudos for your Longfellow.
Well then, while I’m on a roll: Up steps Kipling, with a wide variety of prose and poetry styles to choose from. Here’s one with just the right number of verses for the subject.
You can talk o’ Christmas cheer
When you’ve got yer pot o’ beer
Full o’ hops an’ nothin’ stinted on the barley;
But for Scrooge, a hardened miser,
Well, ’is Christmas appetiser
Were a visit from the Ghost o’ Jacob Marley.
It were on a Christmas Eve
When ’e’d sent ’is clerk on leave
An’ ’e’d bid ’is nevvy take ’isself to Satan
That old Marley’s shade came callin’
Clankin’ chains an’ catterwalling,
Warnin’ Scrooge that it were time ’is ways to straighten.
It was “Scrooge, Scrooge, Scrooge!
“You money-grubbin’ Ebenezer Scrooge!
“Christmas Ghosts your door will darken
“And you’d better bleedin’ ’earken
“Else you’ll wind up just like I am, Mister Scrooge!”
First, the Ghost o’ Christmas Past
Took ’is ’and an’ led ’im fast
To the place where ’e ’ad grown up as a boy;
Where, exceptin’ for ’is sister
(Gawd! ’ow Ebenezer missed ’er!)
All ’is schooldays weren’t exactly filled wi’ joy;
But as youth all ’ale an’ ’earty
Scrooge enjoyed ’is Christmas party,
Which were due unto ’is generous old Master;
But ’e missed ’is chance o’ marryin’
’Cos the torch wot ’e was carryin’
Were for Money and the way to make it faster.
It was “Scrooge, Scrooge, Scrooge!
“It’s enough to make you weep now, ain’t it, Scrooge?
“Though it wa’n’t all song an’ dances
“Still you ’ad your share o’ chances
“An’ you went and bleedin’ blew ’em, dincha, Scrooge?”
Now the Ghost o’ Christmas Present
Were a geezer large an’ pleasant
Wiv a torch for blessin’ ev’ry saint an’ sinner;
An’ ’e showed the preparations
For the Christmas celebrations
An’ the Cratchits sittin’ down to Christmas dinner.
There were goose an’ figgy duff,
None too much, but just enough
For the biggest down to little Tiny Tim;
While ’is nephew, Fred the swell,
’Oo ’e’d told to go to – blazes –
“Humbug” were the best o’ Christmas jokes to ’im!
Then it’s “Scrooge, Scrooge, Scrooge!
“You’re a stubborn old curmudjin, ain’cha, Scrooge?
“Can’t you see what you are missin’?
“Won’t you ’urry up an’ listen
“While there’s time to learn your lesson, Mister Scrooge?”
Well then, Christmas Future’s ghost
Were the one what chilled ’im most
An’ the oddest one with which ’e ’ad to reckon;
It was robed an’ very tall,
And it never spoke at all;
No, all it ever did was point an’ beckon.
It showed ’im someone dead
With a sheet atop ’is ’ead,
As no-one seemed to care two ’oots about;
An’ then poor old Tiny Tim,
No more Chrismasses for ’im,
An’ it fairly made you wanna cry an’ shout:
“Listen, Scrooge, Scrooge, Scrooge!
“There’s a life you might ha’ bin an’ saved there, Scrooge!
“Now we’re in the cemetery
“An’ it’s ’ardly necessary
“For to say ’oos grave this ’ere is – is it, Scrooge?”
Scrooge at last the lesson ’eeded
And on bended knee ’e pleaded:
“Spirit, won’t you let me ’ave another go?
“I’ll keep Christmas true, no fear,
“All along the bloomin’ year” –
An’ ’e woke, the sun a-shinin’ on the snow.
Straight ’e sang a diff’rent tune,
Sent a turkey, as a boon,
’Was the Cratchits best grub ever, an’ that’s flat:
Then to church, an’ then to Freddie,
Sayin’ “Nephew, are you ready
“To forgive me – Freddie, ain’t I bin a prat?”
Now it’s Scrooge, Scrooge, Scrooge!
Keepin’ Christmas grand, old Ebenezer Scrooge!
Spirits waked your conscience sleepin’:
When it comes to Christmas-keepin’
You’re a better man than I am, Mister Scrooge!
Damn, that was great again Malacandra.
Since I got beaten to saying this
QFT
Si
Not for the first time, I am in awe of the writing talent and wit displayed on this board. Bravo to all.
You guys are amazing.
Amazing!
by Tennessee Williams (with additional dialogue by Wm. Faulkner)
[*As the play opens the songs JINGLE BELLS, ADESTE FIDELES, WHAT CHILD IS THIS, SILENT NIGHT, RUDOLPH THE RED NOSED REINDEER, and O LITTLE TOWN OF BETHLEHEM are all playing, simultaneously, on off-stage music boxes, creating a loud cacophony that is at once familiar, foreign, haunting, Christmasy, and extraordinarily annoying.
The music box symphony is temporarily drowned out by the booming voice of The Ghost of Christmas Past [portrayed by Burl Ives asSam the Snowman asBig Daddy] leading FRAGILIA WUNTOEKOVER DE LYON onto the stage*.
BIG DADDY SAM THE SNOWMAN OF CHRISTMAS PAST (BDS): “Santa went a courtin’ and he did ride/mhmmm/Luzianne tea’s decaffeinated now mhmmm/gonna show this crazy woman heah her past/don’t have an idée how long it’ll last/mhmm, mhmm, mhmmm…
**FRAGILIA **Are we thayah yet, Mr. Snow Ghost Daddy?
BDS We gotta be gittin’ close… I think I can make somethin’ out…
*
[Backstage lights come up to reveal an airstream trailer garishly festooned in Christmas lights and drying fish in the midst of what is either a junk yard or an odd shrine of some sort *
FRAGILIA Why Lord have mercy I know this place! I do!
**BDS **Yeah, I’m guessin’ if you ever seen it once you wouldn’t go around forgettin’ it. Who’s that goomer comin’ round over there?
[LEE JASPER WUNTOEKOVER enters, stage left]
**FRAGILIA ** Why Lorrrd, that’s my Daddy… Papa Lee Jasper Battleroyal Wuntoekover, shore as I live and breathe… Papa Lee Jasper, Papa Lee Jasper, over heah… it’s me! Your little baby Fragilia!
**BIG DADDY SAM OF CHRISTMAS PAST (BDS) ** He can’t see or hear you.
FRAGILIA[playfully slapping BDS’s shoulder] Oh of course he cannn! He’s just play actin’ like he can’t! Daddy always did have a powerful dry sense of humor! Nobody understood all his jokes! Yoo-hoo! Daddy! Over heah!
PAPA LEE JASPER Fragilia! Fragilia Perpetual Virginity Wuntokover! Get your hind end out heah!
FRAGILIA Why heah I am Papa Lee Jasper!
**BDS **He ain’t callin’ to you woman! Git it through your souse meat head!
**FRAGILIA **Why of course he is! He just…
[a 9 year old Fragilia wearing a flowing nightshirt with a poinsettia runs out of the trailer]Why heah I am Papa Lee Jasper…
PLJ Hey girl gal… you done all your chores like I axed?
**FRAGILIA **Why of course Papa Lee Jasper! You know I always do! I promised Mama Opal Mytilene I’d honor her dyin’ request when she said 'Baby Girl Fragilia Perpetual Virginity I want you to keep your daddy’s house good and clean and always say your prayuhs and wash your hair ever Thursday and don’t evuh let me hear of you marryin’ no Seventh Day Adventist or North Carolinian!
**PLJ **You warshed up the dishes from breakfast?
LITTLE FRAGILIA Yes Papa Lee Jasper!
PLJ Exorcised the lawn chairs?
**LITTLE FRAGILIA **Yes Papa Lee Jasper!
PLJ Took the Lysol and pomegranates out the freezer for the Christmas punch?
LITTLE FRAGILIA Yes Papa Lee Jasper!
**PLJ **Tied your Baby Bruthah to the steerin’ wheel in the old Studebaker so he can’t go galleyvantin’?
**LITTLE FRAGILIA **Yes Papa Lee Jasper!
FRAGILIA Oh my sweet Papa Lee Jasper… cleanliness and his family all he ever thought about… I do miss him so…
BDS Seems to me he’s about a quart low on the brain fluid.
FRAGILIA Oh he had his drawbacks, surrre… He couldn’t do math or remember names real good or have a bowel movement without first shootin’ his pistol three times out the winda and sayin’ a long prayer to St. Bartholomew, but he was a dear sweet soul, always cuttin’ up… And lorrrd could he barbecue squirrel meat.
**PLJ **Well then, you are Papa Lee Jasper’s good little girl then ain’t ya! And know what I got for you? A Christmas sue-prise!
**FRAGILIA **A chocolate covered radish!
PLJ Better! Now close your eyes and stick out your tongue!
*
[Little Fragilia and Modern Fragilia both close their eyes and stick out their tongues]*
**PLJ **Here’s the sue-prise! I’ve got married again! You got a new Mama!
LITTLE FRAGILIA Yeaaa! Yipppeeeee! I gotta new Mama! I gotta new Mama!
**PLJ **Gal I told you to close your eyes and stick out your tongue…
**FRAGILIA **He sure did! Papa Lee Jasper was always mindful of his own words
PLJ If you don’t close your eyes and stick out your tongues, how we gonna keep the Jews from pelting us with rabbits again! Now open your eyes cause I want you to meet your new Mama!
{PLJ exits stage left to bring in his new bride}
LITTLE FRAGILIA Yes Papa Lee Jasper! Oh Papa Lee Jasper I’m the happiest girl on Earth to have a Mama again!
PLJ (from offstage) Ready to meet your new youngun’s sweetheart?
STRANGE FEMININE VOICE (from offstage) Yes Honey Lee Jasper!
**PLJ **Here we come Fragilia Perpetual Virginity sugar! Now close your eyes!
[Little Fragilia closes her eyes again]
*
[PLJ returns to stage, pushing a wheelbarrow containing an old fashioned Coke machine http://www.bitw.com/images/newbitw/bitwso175.jpg wearing a wedding dress]*
PLJ Here she is honey! Miss PuttaDime In-in-the Slot. Or, should I say, Mrs. PuttaDime IntheSlot Wuntokover!
LITTLE FRAGILIA {at first perplexed, then ecstatic} Oooh! Mommy! Mommy!
PLJ Honey don’t go callin’ her Mommy right off the bat now! Why don’t you start out callin’ her New Mama PuttaDime Wuntokover!
BDS I do believe that’s about the craziest collection of vow’ls and cons’nants I do believe I ever heard come out in one breath!
FRAGILIA [slightly bemused look] Oh I know I know, it does sound crazy. Story of my life. But it’s really quite beautiful… ya see my great great great great granddaddy was a Creole named Basilio Jose Avila y Chapuy who came to Nyawlins from an iddy biddy li’l crossroads down in Cuba, a hacienda he called San Juan de Cordova, but when he introduced himself in his sexy Spanish accent to the local gentry as Señor Basilio Jose Avila y Chapuy de San Juan de Cordova them, with their French Papist and Huguenot and worst of all the Irish and the English colonists of the time all they could make out was the last part… the San Juan de Cordova, which with their HORRIBLE ATTROCIOUS EVIL FILTHY VILE accents came out somethin’ like “Wunn-de-Kover” and that’s how we became the Wuntokover family. Some said the Wuntokover Dynasty, but that’s when we still lived in Bayou de Bougainvillae with its 20,000 acres of rice and indigo and cotton fields crowned with its gorgeous Byzantine cathedral inspired mansion, but that was all before Daddy sold the land and the house but for the swamp and spent the money on black eyed peas that he let rot in the warehouses when the Devil turned the black eyes into the eyes of his minions. Oh such a tragedy, for I never got to go to cotillion with the other girls! But that’s why Wuntokover sounds crazy, but it’s really a sound with a heritage.
BDS Oh. Well… reckon that explains it… So how long did your daddy and the Cocola machine stay married up?
**FRAGILIA **Oh honey, Daddy never really married that Coke machine! Not like they stood up ‘fore a preacher! He just said a few words from the Book of Common Prayer and the LIFE IN THESE UNITED STATES of the May 1948 READERS DIGEST and brought her home like that for a prank. It’s not like the skunk or the otter he tried to marry, he knew this one wasn’t real, at least after he slept off the vitamin shots the next day. But just for that moment, I was so happy for him, and so happy to have a Mama again. Oh, this is the best part of Christmas comin’…
**PLJ ** How’d my two best girls like to light up the Christmas tree?
LITTLE FRAGILIA/MODERN FRAGILIA (and** PLJ** in a STRANGE FEMININE VOICE) YEAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!
**PLJ **Well here we go! Honey you do your part!
LITTLE FRAGILIA douses the tires hanging on the trees with gasoline, while PLJ strikes a match on his cheek, lights a cigarette, then tosses it onto the tires. Soon the tires, the tree, and most of the woods around them are ablaze as PLJ and LITTLE FRAGILIA and Miss Puttadime look on and sing carols “Good King Wenceslas”.
[Good King Wencesclas joins the music box tunes and becomes dominant. The backstage lights go down. A spotlight is on Fragilia, though BDS is still semi illuminated at her side.]
FRAGILIA On the feast of Stephen. You know Mister Spirit, one of the funny things about Christmas, I recall when I used to think the words to that song were ‘Good King Wendell Slaw looked down/Condoleezza steamin’/when the snow lay round about/they worshiped the devil Melchior!’ Crazy some of the things we think as children, isn’t it?
BDS Yeah, I was just thinkin’ the same thing. And that you were the same way then as you are now.
**FRAGILIA **You mean I hadn’t changed? Really I hadn’t?
BDS Nope, then as now, blonde… half a pound of lipstick… skin like a Cajun virgin fished out of a river…and about three pulls on a goat’s tit short of a folksy euphemism, by which I mean crazy as a bat with a sense of his own mortality wakin’ up in a blender.
FRAGILIA [flirtatiously] Oh you go on from heah! You men are all alike! At least *I’m *not the one who’s goin’ around not decidin’ if he’s a snowman or a whitetrash vagrants son turned landbaron patriarch of a dysfunctional fam’ly!
BDS Well Santa Crack Corn and I don’t care. What say we sneak a look see at another Christmas?
**FRAGILIA **Oh let’s! Let’s really do! Ohhhhh… it’s my first Christmas with my first husban’! What a treat!
[to be continued]
A ‘Christmas Carol’
in a series of haikus
six to be exact
Ebenezer Scrooge
‘Bah Humbug’ is his great phrase
A great, sad miser
One, Jacob Marley
Once dead, now a great spectre
“Three spirits await!”
Ghost of Christmas past
Shows a lonely, sad, small boy
Where love turned away
The Christmas present
Cratchet family being gay
Where no money lies
The future, dark, cold
Scrooge lies dead, buired, alone
And still no one cares
Christmas! A new day!
“Boy! Go get the biggest bird!”
My life is now mine.
Bravo, Sir T-Cups!
Christmas Carol in haikus?
That was awesome, dude!
(And, Sampiro? That was… surreal. Reads like someone’s account of his dysfunctional Southern family.)
The ending of Ambrose Bierce’s Ebeneezer
Scrooge awoke upon his bed, the fearful spectre no longer before him. The clock was striking six. He was not dead! The shades of the future had not come to pass! He cast open the window by his bed and screamed to the boy at the foot of his bed, “What day is…?”
“August 12th!” the attendant cut him off. “Today is August 12, yesterday was August 11, tomorrow is August 13!” He was annoyed at having to address the same nightmares every single morning with the old man, who never recollected having them the night before. “The tub is filled with ice. It’s time for your bath. Come peacefully and Dr. Cratchit may let you have yard time.”
Thank you Mal!
It’s hard thinking of ways to write these now…I’m not much for authors’ styles so I’m trying to think of different ways to write these
Barring any sort of epiphany, I might be out of ideas…but stay tuned…
Magnificent, all.