The Ghost of Christmas Past
Marley: Ivaneezer Scrooge! I've come to warn you of teeeerible danger!
Ivan: Miss Marley? It IS you. But, you died, seven centuries ago!
Marley: Yes, but me loved you long time. That's why I've come back. A silver chain awaits you, seven times longer than the one I now wear.
Ivan: Silver! *gasp* No... how can I avoid such a terror?
Marley: You will be visited by three ghosts. They'll tell you what to do.
Ivan: If you say so...
Their apartment was nearly empty. Finals were over and the guys went home for the holidays, leaving Ivaneezer alone to fend for himself. He slept under the tree. The grouchy old scrooge wasn't willing to admit he was terribly lonely.
Already forgetting Miss Marley's dire warning, he drifted off to sleep. Humbug, he said. Humbug.
A bright light and tinkling sound woke him.
What humbuggery is this? Who are you?
Why, I'm the Ghost of Christmas Past. I'm here to rub your face in your every screw up. I'm on the clock here, so let's get moving.
Is this another dream in which I'll be attacked by horrible socks?
Ghost: No, this isn't a dream!
Ivan: I suppose not, if this were a dream you'd be a hot lady wearing a lot less...
Ghost: Look. Your fallen comrades, slain in battle.
Ivan: Why bring me here? This was centuries ago!!
Ghost: They didn't need to die that day, you went into battle for vanity, over a petty insult by a neighboring king. You sacrificed your men for pride, not your people.
Ivan: Shut up! What would you know of it? You weren't there, how dare you accuse me of--
Ghost: You are a proud and vain man and your vanity killed an entire army of loyal soldiers without need, you---
It worked for George C. Scott, it'll work for me!
*snuff snuff snuff*
The Christmas Ghost continued cackling in annoying laughter.
Grrrrr....
Ah! Another nightmare. Why do I keep having such horrible dreams?
