A Crimbo Carol

Part 1
It is in the days nearing the last of the year that merry holiday cheer rings atop the snowed down roof of the House. It’s imperious walls are caked in white, it’s windows are fogged with the warmth of the hearth and jollyness inside, it’s chimenea is bellowing a column of smoke which carries the smell of the feast the fires cook below, it’s runway blanketed in layers on snow. This was all symptomatic of the sudden weather anomalies due to Climate Change in Los Angeles which were of great concern to everyone inside the House. Nonetheless, the celebrations and alcoholic eggnog dulled those thoughts for this magical day. And what a day, the day before Xmas.
Xmas was among the most treasured holidays for the House guests. It was a time for companionship, forgiveness, love, generosity, bitties and memes, a day to hold Deer and remember for all. All in the House loved it. All but the hateable, detestable, sneerable, loathable, unmissable, unthinkable, gottemable Kremenizer Barrooge, who did not. As he walked between the halls, his black cloak dropped over a gray four piece suit and his silver walking cane with a sculpted platinum head of lettuce as its handle striking the ground, the festivities quieted and the songs halted. His sour face, barely visible between the white popped collar of his shirt, frowned as he mumbled,
“I don’t really celebrate Christmas, but I hope you are having a wonderful holiday anyway” menacingly, threateningly, and ghastly.
There was a gasp and a whimper spread throughout the House. The young and the old, the fit and the sickly, they were all taken aback by the tyrant’s cruelty. But, what could be done? For who else was the richest, most opulent man in the House but this very dark sire? A fortune, it’s worth noting, he didn’t earn himself. For you see, apart from a merciless man he had also been the inheritor of the vast riches of his now recently late business partners, and siblings separated at birth, the triplets: Kung, Tom and Vitas Marley, with whom Barrooge shared a lucrative forest egg harvesting business with. Now, left to his own devices, he squandered the labors of their work by purchasing lavish gaming furniture and piles upon piles of leafy greens while countless areas of the House laid in squalor and disrepair.
He approached a room, it’s door adorned with images of animal plushies, mugs and Bulma figures. As the familiar sight of his dark silhouette entered a door marked “Dodger’s Office”. It was his streaming office, which he also usurped. Day after day he greedily streamed, desiring only the bitties of the poor souls who would wander into it, exhorting them to hand over their hard earned bits by refusing to read Chat unless paid. Two figures, squalid and drowsy, poured over log after log of Twitch Chat in a feeble attempt to moderate its turbulence. They were Deer and Gamb Cratchit, no relation, whose icy breath once again could be seen over their skeletal fingers. Once again the single tree Barrooge had purchased and set on fire with a flamethrower last week was crumbling into ash and once again the temperature of the office was plummeting into a hellish freeze. For a moment Deer thought to ask “Hey nerd, can we set fire to the House for warmth?”, but she dare not speak. The mere thought of her hearing once again those words dripping with utter contempt “Uh, please don’t set anything on fire” was too much to bare. They would toil in gelidness once more. 
At this time, there was a polite knocking on the door. As Barrooge opened he saw, to his dread, beyond the door frame, his brother, and only living relative, Alex, just Alex.
“Brother dearest! What a wonder afternoon, and a magnificent Christmas to you!” he laughed with great mirth as he stepped forth, behind him was a timid frail lady. “Come brother and see who I ran into coming here. The collection for the yearly Twitch charity has begun and Ms. Rina here has come all the way from the Ad Mines to see you! What a wonderful opportunity. Won’t you do a charity stream and help with it!” But Barrooge laughed off the suggestion, wickedly, delaying the charity steam yet again, for the umpteenth time. As the door closed on poor Rina’s worm nose, the brothers stared each other down.
“Brother, much time you’ve spent streaming and I see it has hardened your heart, if you still have one that is. But it’s no matter, on this holiest day of Christmas not even you could bring me down!”
“But you don’t celebrate Christmas” Barrooge retorted wickedly, bereft of kindness. “I mean, sure I can go if you want, that’s fine it’s just a l-” he continued but Alex was too wounded by his cruel words, he could not bear to hear the rest of them. Wordlessly he exited through the door in a haste, trampling over Rina who was still there, and then an overwhelming silence and sadness set in the office. But perhaps not for long. After all tomorrow is Xmas. 
“Ok, it’s time to end the stream. See you guys Tuesday at 5:00 p.m. EST” Barrooge commanded. 
“Uh, tomorrow is Xmas DeerWiggle” Deer responded meekly. 
“6:00 p.m. EST then”. There was a silent awkward pause. 
“No? Then what then?” he demanded, raising his booming voice. 
“The whole day” Deer continued “The whole day to enjoy and meme and shitpost”. The two moderators waited with baited breath. 
“Oh right sorry I don’t know Xmasses, sure I’ll see you the stream after that.” A triumph over tyranny, oh how sweet, if ever so brief. Without another word, the two sprung from their non gamer chairs and bolted out, Deer heefing and hoofing her way home while Gamb uttered some indecipherable Australian speech.
With nothing else to do, Barrooge closed the stream and the office and retired himself to his own private room in the House were none other dare enter, not even to piss on the carpet. There, he voraciously swallowed whole head after head of lettuce, a grotesque sight to behold, and, having finished his late night snack, retired to the depths of his abode were in there was, sitting atop a single circular table in the middle of a great dimly lit room, a Commodore 64 and a copy of the Kingdom Hearts text adventure. As he sat in the kingly, almost throne-like, gamer chair before the computer, there was an all too familiar jingle heard from the foremost chambers of his room. His heart stopped but for a second as another foreboding echo bounced inside the walls of his sanctuary. One, two, three Hamiltons were subtly heard between the walls. Before Barrooge could utter a word, from above, descending like wicked Valkyries, three spooks erupted through the wall and before him they hovered. 
“Kung! Tom! And the other one!” Barrable cried in disbelief “But you are dead! I kille-“ 
“KREMENIZER BARROOGE! LOOK UPON THESE BITS THAT NOW HOLD US!” Boomed the former colleagues in perfect unison, except for Kung who had forgotten some of her lines and was mumbling them a bit. “THEY ARE THE BITS WE HOARDED, THEY NOW WEIGH US DOWN BECAUSE WE DIDN’T CHEER ENOUGH DURING LIFE!” 
“But you were the most generous members of Chat!” Barrooge quivered as he was forced to behold the truth of his immortal soul. “WE KNOW BUT WE ARE JUST THAT GENEROUS AND COOL”. 
“Oh” Barrooge quivered even more. 
“NOW YOU HOARD THE BITS THAT BELONG TO THE PEOPLE OF THE HOUSE. YOU TOO WILL SUFFER YOUR GREED UNLESS YOU CHANGE YOUR WAYS”. 
“But I really really like lettuce. Sometimes when I’m alone, I take off my cloth-“ 
“WE KNOW, GHOSTS SEE THROUGH WALLS”
“Well you guys are probably just lettuce induced hallucinations. Yeah, there’s more of e-coli than of necropoli in you!” he said hoping to scare off the ghosts with an even greater horror, puns.
“TONIGHT YOU WILL BE VISITED BY THREE EMOTES. THE EMOTE OF STREAM PAST, OF STREAM PRESENT AND STREAM FUTURE! HEED THEIR WARNINGS BARROOGE OR SUFFER YOUR FATE!” and without another word, the apparitions vanished.
To be continued...
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