That Time Scrooge Helped Bing Crosby Write “It’s the Most Wonderful Time Of The Year”
By: Payne Schanski
Tags: Humor, A Christmas Carol, Christmas, Christmas Music, Scrooge

That Time Scrooge Helped Bing Crosby Write “It’s the Most Wonderful Time Of The Year”

As it turns out, Bing Crosby didn’t actually write that song. Here’s how it all went down.

On the evening of December 24th, Ebenezer Scrooge steps out of the cold, bleak, biting City of London weather and into a melancholy tavern, where he happens upon a melancholy Bing Crosby.

Bing Crosby: I can’t do it. Drat, I’m just no good at this kinda racket.

Ebenezer Scrooge: It’s the most wonderful time of the year, Bing: Harvest season for the money lenders. What right do you have for this sorrow? You’re drunk enough.

Bing: I’m trying to write the next classic Christmas song. I’ve been working on it for weeks. Oh, but I’m just such a lunk when it comes to this sort of thing. I’ll never get it.

Scrooge: Humbug. You’re a fine performer, Bing. But why endeavor to such a trifle as a Christmas song?

Bing: To make a quick buck.

Scrooge: Now you’re talking! Come on then, maybe I can help. What do you have so far?

Bing: “It’s the most wonderful time of the year.” And I scribbled that down on a napkin just now when you said it.

Scrooge: As fine a place to begin as any. And if this doesn’t work out, maybe you can go into the banking trade. I’ve been looking for a new partner at the counting-house ever since Marley died.

Bing: What does a day’s work at a counting-house consist of?

Scrooge: Counting. Perhaps you’d better work on that song after all. Tell me, what immediately comes to mind when you think of Christmas? We’ll go from there.

Bing: “There’ll be much mistletoe-ing, and hearts will be glowing.”

Scrooge: To be clear, when you say “much mistletoe-ing,” what you’re referring to is — ?

Bing: Yup. You betcha.

Scrooge: That’s the very first thing you associate with Christmas? Trying to get laid?

Bing: Oh, I wouldn’t say “trying to.”

Scrooge: You covetous old sinner! (chuckles) Maybe I’ve been approaching this holiday wrong all these years. Quick, what else do you have?

Bing: “There’ll be parties for hosting, marshmallows for toasting…?”

Scrooge: Hold on Bing, I think you’ve lost the plot. What exactly are you trying to do here?

Bing: Well gosh, I’m just listing off some of the popular Christmas traditions, like you said!

Scrooge: Toasting marshmallows? That’s much better suited to a summer camp out. The only holiday I celebrate is Foreclosure Day, and even I know that! (chuckles gaily)

Bing: Why are you laughing?

Scrooge: You tell me you’re writing a Christmas carol, and the best you can come up with is this bollocks about making bloody s’mores! Try singing this undigested bit of beef in public, and you’ll be joining the rest of the cursed debtors in the workhouse at once.

Bing: (Flips a coin to the bartender and receives another drink) Listen Scroogey, you keep Christmas in your way, and I’ll keep it in mine.

Scrooge: Yes, I’ll be sure to remember that.

Bing Crosby continues to write out lyrics on a napkin, while Scrooge measures out neat stacks of coins on top of the bar.

Bing: Alright, I’ve got something. Take a listen, Scrooge, see if this one doesn’t knock your block off.

Scrooge: Ah, thank’ee.

Bing: “There’ll be scary ghost stories, and tales of the glories of…”

Scrooge: Cease! Don’t you see, Bing? You’ve done it again.

Bing: Done what again?

Scrooge: You seem to have Christmas traditions confused with common Boy Scout campfire activities.

Bing: What do you got against marshmallows, sonny?

Scrooge: Ghost stories are never told at Christmastime.

Bing: Are you sure?

Scrooge: Yes.

Bing: Are you?

Scrooge: Yes.

After several more frustrating attempts, including taking great pains to get that ‘mistletoe-ing’ line in there one last time, Bing Crosby has reached the end of his wits.

Bing: It’s lousy, Ebenezer. It’s all lousy!

Scrooge: No more, Bing. Show me no more! These musical sing-alongs are a fine trifle of frivolity to begin with. Take up a real profession if you want the finer things — coal for your furnace, gruel in your saucer, a competitive mortgage rate.

Bing Crosby nods his head, crumpling up his napkin and tossing it aside. Scrooge returns the coins to his purse and finishes his drink.

Scrooge: You’re making the right choice, Bing. Many condolences that your Christmas carol didn’t work out, but it’s for the best.

Bing: That’s okay. Sorry about your dead partner. Were you serious about that job offer earlier?

Scrooge: It wasn’t an offer… (sees the look of dismay on Bing’s face) but send along your CV courtesy of Bob Cratchit, and I’ll see what I can do.

Scrooge stands up, buttons his overcoat, throws a scarf around his neck, grabs his top hat from its hook, and begins walking for the exit. The pubkeeper rushes towards him but is blocked by the curve of the bar.

Pubkeeper: ‘Scuse me Mr. Scrooge, but did you just try paying for your drink using bitcoin?

Scrooge: Humbug.

Scrooge walks out the door, leaving the pubkeeper seething. A young man three stools down has unrolled Bing’s napkin and now clutches it with a tight-fisted hand and a giant grin on his face. He carefully folds the napkin into his wallet and leaves a wad of cash on the bar.

Andy Williams: Don’t worry about it, mate. This one’s on me.