<iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/qGc1uCFefQs" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>
An SCW Christmas Carol
Narrated By: Spike Staggs
There is a chill in the air as the gusts of wind carry across the sound of carolers on this that is Christmas Eve. It also carries with it the spirit of kindness and merriment, the scent of freshly baked cookies and fruitcakes, and a sense that Santa Claus is nearing the Las Vegas metropolitan area in just a few short hours. As quickly as the wind passes, so does the sense of holiday spirit.
We close in on a house that is red with black trim, but decorated in a fashion that takes away from the normally eerie nature of the choice in coloring. Icicle lights run along the gutters, and red ribbons tightened into a bow along the tops wrap around the columns which hold up the porch covering. The front yard is lightly decorated with a small nativity scene just in front of the bushes near the porch. Fiber optic snowflakes lead up the walkway to the porch step, where the windows are lined in lovely blue lights with a white shining star in each. Through the front window, a lovely Christmas tree is spotted, and so is Spike Staggs. He has his young daughter, Eden, in his arms as she places the final touch of a golden star atop the tree with a smile. Spike brings her down and plants a big kiss on her cheek before setting her down, and playfully chasing her through the living room.
His son, Tim, sits down watching on with a typical teenage sense of angst, wishing her were playing a video game instead. However, Misty sets a cup of hot chocolate in front of him, playfully ruffling his reddish hair before sitting down nearby. They converse inaudibly as the front door, adorning a pine wreath with red ribbons and gold trim, opens up to allow the wonderful scents associated with Christmas time to escape into the air. The sound of “Do You Hear What I Hear” as performed by Flyleaf, escapes along with the scents.
As we enter the warm home, we spot a lovely black leather living room set, and an oddly placed wooden rocking chair. Spike chases a giddily screaming Eden. He scoops her up in his arms once more before sitting down in the chair. She kicks and giggles before finally settling down. Spike pulls out a book and flips open to the middle, before shutting off the stereo with a remote. Everyone in the room turns their attention to the both of them sitting in the corner. Spike smirks as he looks directly into the camera.
”Eden is at an age where vivid stories really help to paint a picture and set morals for her. I am glad that our family could gather around the tree tonight on this Christmas Eve to start the tradition of family story time…”
Spike pauses as Eden whispers something into his ears, and then buries her face into his chest, occasionally peaking over to Tim and Misty as if to beg for them to make this camera go away. She squeals once more before quieting down and paying attention to her father. Spike clears his throat, and begins to tell the story, his voice deeper than normal for effect, however the words are still slightly drawn out and pointedly spoken as usual.
”Once upon a time, not too long ago, on a Christmas Eve night, there was a man who was not unlike the fabled Ebenezer Scrooge. Scrooge was a man who let all of the darkness consume him, freezing his heart, and drowning any sense of emotion that make a person human.”
”Like Scrooge McDuck in the Mickey Mouse Christmas Carol?”
She is very proud of her question, and Spike looks down, nodding his head appropriately. He runs his fingers through her raven hair as he flips a page in the book. However, this story is not from the book as Eden thinks it is.
”His name was Ebenezer Ward. He toted himself as the King of Sin City, with his lowly wench picked up at a local gentlemen’s club after a few too many drinks, who was bestowed upon him as a gift. This woman was awful, and made The Grinch look like a Saint. Together, they stewed in their own misery, and the misery they caused other people. It was only a pairing of convenience, as the horrible slag used his power to try to get ahead, and this poor excuse for a king used his powers to manipulate people.
“By doing so, his friends, and his family all could not stand the sight of him, so they abandoned him upon the dawn of the Christmas season. Anyone who ever cared for him were mere accessories to his misdeeds, and eventually became victims to his misdeeds when their usefulness had shriveled up. It is why, on this particular Christmas Eve, Ebenezer Ward would be looking at a dank and poorly lit Christmas Tree, chugging back some crappy Newcastle Browns and wishing he wasn’t such a bastard.
“On this, that was Christmas Eve, Ebenezer Ward sat at his desk, furiously filing paperwork on a recent unused contract for an employee who will soon make him millions of dollars, when a knock comes upon the door. It is the lowly leech known as Nick Cratchit, who has come to let Ward know it is Christmas Eve. Ward, who is afraid of being alone and without any real human connection, overcompensates by making everyone work harder, until the dim witted Nick kisses his London arse enough to basically hand him a championship shot, and then the day is over.
“Ward fights through the blustery London winter wind on his way home, alone with his brew, and his money. Upon entering his home, in a drunken stupor, he passes out in the doorway. However it might seem but a short time later, it is hours later. He wakes up to the sound of chains rattling. As he looks around, trying to clear the bitter from his head, he sees his former tag partner, Jordan Marley, who warns him… ‘It isn’t too late to stop being a bastard. You will be visited by three ghosts tonight. The ghost of Christmas Past… the Ghost of Christmas Present… and the Ghost of Christmas Future! Heed their warnings, Ward.’ And upon leaving, his spins around, kicks him in the gut, and drops him with an ATL Crusher, knocking him out again.”
Eden claps and cheers as she kicks her feet in excitement. Misty eyes Spike, as if to suggest he watch his language. Spike nods, and then flips through the pages to find another picture to keep Eden occupied.
”Once he shakes the cobwebs from his head, he hears the sound of a deep voice calling. He looks around to see a spiky haired, most handsome ghost ever seen, dressed in a black suit, calling to him. ‘Ebenezer Ward… I am the Ghost of Christmas Past. I represent your past mistakes, and why you are in the current predicament you are in. A true friend, one who is loyal to your every whim, is nothing more than a pawn to you. You molded his mentality, you turned him into a true force to be reckoned with, but you still turn your back on him, and humiliate him, just because he surpassed you. You boast about things, even though they are worldly things, things that disappear with age. You have been… intimate with many ladies, but the only one that sticks around was a filthy stripper who only likes you because she is using you for some unknown reason. If I might be frank with you for just a moment, she says you really do… lack, down there. Over compensating for a tiny winky with your power trips.’ Ward got very angry, and tried his best to fight back against the ghost with fists rather than brains, but the handsome ghost was too fast for him. Ward, unlike Scrooge, refused to listen to the ghost, so the ghost hit him with the Spikey Plummet, laying him out once more.
“As he awakened from his deep slumber, he looked up to see the most beautiful, raven haired angel standing over him, offering him a helpful hand. Stubborn as he is, he smacked the hand away. She introduced herself as the Ghost of Christmas Present. With a devilish smile, Ebenezer Ward called out for an army of miserable hags to attack the ghost from behind, but none of them could manage until he whispered into one of their ears, and twisted their tiny minds into fighting the Ghost of Christmas Present. The ghost offered her piece of advice. She said to Ward, “You are a bitter man, growing older in your age. Your sex appeal is wearing off, and so is your mental edge. You rely on your mouth in this time, but that can only get you so far. are an old miser, well passed his hay day. Yet, you think you are a king. As the Ghost of Christmas Past tried to explain, you have an ego that is growing bigger than your own self. Yet, instead of heeding his warning, you persist. I pray that the Ghost of Christmas Future can talk some sense into you.’ Instead, Ebenezer commands his army of hags toward her, and she disappears into thin air. The handsome Ghost of Christmas Past returns to give him one more Spikey Plummet, knocking him out cold once more.
“When he awakens from his concussed nap, he sees himself back on the floor of his house, covered in a pile of empty bitter ale cans from head to toe. At first, he thinks nothing of it, but then, he looks down, and he is on top of a pile of cans, rising up through the ceiling. He still thinks it is just another Saturday Night, until the cans turn into a steep hillside. Up top sits an open grave with a tombstone marked ‘Ebenezer Ward’. He looks down into, seeing an open casket with a slightly older version of himself in it. His face drains of his cheesy spray tan coloring, and his eyes widen. His lips quiver in fear. He begins to think to himself, ‘Why didn’t I listen to the last two ghosts? Why, oh why?’ But, it is too late. The enormous Ghost of Christmas Future picks him up by the back of his suit jacket, and offers one short piece of advice. ‘Had you been a better man, people would have liked you better, and you might have had people who genuinely care for you. Instead, you purposely anger everyone around you, to the point that, as each day goes on, you lose any potential of prolonging this day. You will die an empty man, alone, and younger than you would have thought. People tried to help you, but you just couldn’t stop being a bastard. That is why, I must say goodbye.’
“And it was then that the Ghost of Christmas Future dropped Ebenezer Ward into the dark pit of hell from which his soul belonged. He screamed in agony as he knew his misdeeds, and he refused to repent for them, so he knew what awaited him below. However, when he woke up, on the floor of his home, the miserable wench who accompanies him everywhere shook him, presumably to make sure his wallet was alright. He looked around, and he knew that the events of that night were likely to become reality, so he shook for just one moment, because he knew that he was in for several Spikey Plummets in the near future, as well as ATL Crushers… Now, kids, what is the lesson you got from the story?”
Timmy pointedly remarks, as if it were a no-brainer. ”Uncle Mark is a bastard.”
Eden bounces up from her daddies chest and exclaims very loudly, “Uncle Mark’s a BASTARD!”
Spike tries to keep a stern face, but it fractures a bit as he chuckles. Misty glares at Spike, who simply shrugs his shoulders. The music begins playing again as the camera fades out.
