The Christmas Carol Crackfic OF DOOM

Hello! Welcome to...whatever this is. Essentially some drunken writers making a collab fic for the fun of it, parodying the very fine tale A Christmas Carol by some famous guy, who probably had a beard. (If you never read/watched it, click the link and read the summery).

HOW IT WILL GO:

• Whenever you feel like, just jump in and write a few lines/paragraphs of the story with whatever you like - madness is encouraged and sense is frowned upon... at times. As long as eventually it continues the story in some way and is readable, go ahead and jump in! No need to sign up. There's no official order - you can write as little or as often as you like/can, as long as you don't write more than a few paragraphs each 'turn' you have.
• Current idea we're going with is to write as yourself as a self-insert narrating the story (e.g. I will be narrating as myself... bobandbill!). Non-existent points given for breaking the fourth wall and making fun arguments with other authors if you want to change how the story goes within the story itself.
• No 100% agreement with what/who Scrooge in this tale actually is... so feel free to punt continuity and change things up if you like. It's a crackfic (or an attempt anyways) after all.
• Having fun with this is a necessity - don't worry if the story goes off the rails for a bit or you can't pull off an idea of yours all too easily - just go with the flow!
• If you wish you can reserve a post (e.g. 'Writing the next part now') to avoid two or more people writing something different after the same part (if this ever happens then just go with the madness and continue...somehow rather than keep only one - it'd be a challenge! =P), but if so please then edit the post ASAP with the next part. If you take too long (say 6 hours give or take) someone else may jump in and continue. So if you suddenly don't have time for it, please say so/delete your reserve post.

(Probably to be reposted when done as a whole fic in the fic section.) =D


So, continue after this opening part! Starting with a longer beginning because darn it, I can. =P (You can write such an amount as well if you want - it's free for all after all, but we should intend this to last at least a few days =P)

_____________________________________________________________________

"MARLEY was dead, to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Scrooge signed it. And Scrooge's name wad good upon..."

"Bob, what are you doing?" Bill asked, giving his friend a confused glance. Bob was reading out aloud to a large array of empty chairs from a dusty book, pages threatening to fly apart if so much as a light breeze came about, in a theatre room occupied only by the two men. A flimsy banner hung above their heads, proclaiming 'EPIC VERSION OF SOME CHRISTMAS STORY READ HERE TONIGHT AT 25 O'CLOCK' to anyone who happened to read it.

"I'm just telling everyone what happens in the story-"

"But that's what that fancypants author... whatshisname, Charles Chickens or something- that's how he wrote it, exactly. We can't afford any more lawsuits," Bill said with a strained voice. Bob looked around, and then back at Bill.

"It's not like anyone is here to sue us this time, though, Bill. We're as unpopular as a Charizard... which says hello by exploding in your face somehow." With that, Bob continued. "...And Scrooge's name was good upon 'Change for anything he chose to put his hand to."

"Bob," Bill said suddenly, glancing out of a small window.

"Now, Bill, you know nobody liked our exploding Charizard toy products, even if they seemed like a good idea at the time... 'Old Marley was as dead as a door-nail-'"

"Shut it, Bob," Bill said, grabbing the book and whacking Bob on the head with it, the book dissolving into dust with the impact.

"Oh, look what you did! Now we have no book!"

"Bob... Scrooge just walked by!"

Bob glanced at Bill. "What are you talking about? He's just a character... oh," he added, noticing Bill's face. "That Scrooge. You sure?"

"Yep, I am. The real-life, totally-not-fictional Scrooge who owns a fanfiction writing business," Bill said softly. After a short pause, he added "Say, why don't we follow him and see if there's any positions open? We could get him to publish that story we write if we can get hired..."

Bob considered this, and then nodded. "We might as well. We have nothing else to do this Christmas Eve, and clearly nobody here will miss our grand version of 'A Christmas Carol'. Especially since we have no book anymore..."

"Never mind that just reading the book to everyone with no changes would have helped matters We'd have had tomatoes thrown at us again. And I hate tomatoes. I thought you said you wrote up a new version. With explosions and everything."

"Oh, I accidentally used the paper I wrote the story on as a tissue," Bob said sheepishly.

"And I bet the explosions were just exploding Charizard running about, right?"

"...yes," Bob conceded, as they walked out the door into a strange and fantastical place known as 'outside', following the footsteps of the yet undescribed man known as Scrooge in the road, which was covered by a thick layer of pineapple-flavoured snow. Silence began for a short while, before Bob interrupted.

"We are currently walking in the snow that tastes like pineapple following Scrooge's footsteps-"

"What are you saying, Bob?" Bill cried.

"I'm narrating what's happening so the readers know what's going on, silly."

"..."

______________________________________

(bah humbug, this is all I can come up with before I have to leave. I'll edit this for grammar mistakes tomorrow. -_- )

A lady wearing a suit and a fedora (wait, aren't those gentleman attire? ) saw two men, Bob and Bill, fighting. Her expression was of confusion, the woman not sure which person is which.

"Bay Alexison!"

Bay suddenly jumped in fight and took deep breaths. When she turned around, Scrooge gave her a stern look. For now, Scrooge would be how everyone imagined him: a gentleman with his fancy clothes and a facial expression you would see someone who was very greedy.

"Oh, hi Mr. Scrooge. Didn't see you there," the woman said while rubbing the back of her head.

Scrooge just huffed. "You got your fanfics done?"

Bay laughed nervously. "About that, sir...I haven't been getting my muse lately."

The old man had his (big) eyebrows raised. "Huh?"

"I haven't been able to get inspiration to write, lately."

"Just force it, then!" Scrooge suggested immediately.

"But then my work will be forced!"

"Doesn't matter!" the investment banker fanfic business owner said while having his left hand slapped his head. "We have a deadline to get through! Time is money, honey!"

The man left Bay alone, waving his hands while walking to his fanfic business. The lady sighed and shook her head.

"So you're sure we're supposed to intervene here?"

"Positive."

Two creatures were walking/drifting down the street. One of them was a man with a very stupid unique hairstyle covering one eye, and the other was Giratina. Yes, really. A six-legged monstrocity with wing-arms and a funky golden headdress. And she was walking down the street, engaging in argumentative conversation with Tor "Zero" Lund.

"You know," said Zero, "I could have sworn that the schmuck who just walked by had spiked hair. But that can't be normal."

"Look who's talking," noted Giratina smugly. "But... where do you see him?"

Zero pointed, and Giratina proceeded to laugh.

"Say, Zero... do you think you'd get along well with Magneton Man?"

"Wh- Oh. Him. Well, I don't know, but maybe this Psyduck over here can help us..." Zero inched away from Giratina and towards a Psyduck in a top hat, who then proceeded to glower at him and send a menacing Psyduck growl as well. "...Okay, so maybe he can't. But really, how can he be here? I mean, it's the wrong universe and..."

"Clearly you've never read Tsubasa. Anyway, he's theoretically a fanfic writer here... which is too bad, since he doesn't have enough imagination to fill a teacup. I think we oughtta show him how real stories get procrastinated, eh?"

Here's my part!

"It's c-c-cold!"

"Oh stop whining Mikey, it's not even!"

"Easy for you to say, you are always cold!"

Sitting on a rooftop in the freezing snow, two people sat arguing. Well, a mutant and vampire to be exact.

Mikey, full name Michaelangelo, was a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle who welded two nunchakus and wore an orange mask. He usually was the one to crack jokes about a situation no matter how bad but at the moment he was complaining to Shayla Cullen, a forever 16 year old vampire about the freezing cold snowy weather.

Shayla sighed with impatience at her friend Mikey. How those two ended up being paired in A Christmas Carol crack fic was beyond her. "Mikey just hold on alright? You heard what Haz said, wait until Scrooge comes along and then we present him with our fanfic." She held up the handwritten manuscript of her and Mikey's Eragon fanfiction.

Mikey wrapped his cloak tighter around him. "This Scrooge fellow sounds like a cranky old fart to me. I say we jump him as well and teach him some manners!"

"Nah, too much work. But still, lol!" Shayla laughed at her friend as she whacked him on the head as a joke.

Mikey hit her back but winched when he hit her granite-like skin before looking over the rooftop again. "Hey, here comes Scrooge! And he's being followed by a… What the heck is that thing?"

He was of course referring to the giant dragonish monster who was talking to a person with a unique hairstyle.

"Let's check it out," Shayla declared as they leapt off the rooftop into the snow-covered street.

This was my first attempt at a crack-fic but I think I went okay with it.

"We are currently in the process of fighting each other," Bob informed loudly to nobody in particular, throwing some snow at Bill's face.

"Bob," Bill asked, as he threw a left hook at his friend only for him to dodge out of the way and attempt to strike him on the head with a very sharp spoon, "why are we fighting, exactly?"

The two stopped suddenly and pondered this.

"That's a very good question. I can't really remember..." Bob pondered, putting the spoon down.

"Oh great, we've got competition," Bill muttered. The two looked around, suddenly, noticing many people had suddenly appeared, each clutching fanfic scripts in their hands.

"Is that a ninja turtle...and a Giratina..." Bob began.

"Never mind who they are - I'm sure our fic is better then all of theirs, even if their stories were merged together into some sort of super fic," Bill said confidently and with a fair amount of confidence as well. "But with saying that... I don't think we should talk to Scrooge just yet, but instead approach the receptionist," he added, as he observed Scrooge walking within the building and throwing alphabet soup on a woman working inside, yelling 'No, I requested a story about dancing bumblebees, not crickets that sing opera!' at her before storming off.

"That's a good idea... bumblebees. No wonder he owns the business!" Bob grinned as they walked in and approached the front desk, forcing himself to keep the smile as he looked at the receptionist, an old man who looked half-asleep. "Hello, we'd like to say hello." After a pause, he added, "Hello!"

The receptionist blinked at the two. "Err... I'm guessing you want to make a job application as well? Well... what job?"

"What job? You mean Scrooge sells more than fanfics?" Bill asked, surprised.

"Yep. Let's see," the man replied, grabbing a large list and reciting from it. "Allen wrenches, gerbil feeders, toilet seats, electric heaters, trash compactors, juice extractor, shower rods and water meters, walkie-talkies, copper wires safety goggles, radial tires, BB pellets, rubber mallets, fans and dehumidifiers, picture hangers, paper cutters, waffle irons, window shutters, paint removers, window louvres, masking tape and plastic gutters, kitchen faucets, folding tables, weather stripping, jumper cables, hooks and tackle, grout and spackle, power foggers, spoons and ladles, pesticides for fumigation, high-performance lubrication, metal roofing, water proofing, multi-purpose insulation, air compressors, brass connectors, wrecking chisels, smoke detectors, tire gauges, hamster cages, thermostats and bug deflectors, trailer hitch demagnetizers, automatic circumcisers, tennis rackets, angle brackets, Duracells and Energizers, soffit panels, circuit breakers, vacuum cleaners, coffee makers, calculators, generators, matching salt and pepper shakers... oh, and fanfics," he finished with a deep breathe. "Anyways, if a writing position is what you want, I'm afraid you'll have to see Scrooge about that after Christmas."

"Oh, ok- wait, how did we get outside so quickly?" Bill said suddenly, the two now outside again in the snow.

"No idea... oh well. Hmm, the script says budget cuts. Anyways, let's... look at Scrooge talk to that man through that conveniently placed window," Bob suggested. Bill nodded with agreement, and the two peered in.

"We're looking through the window now and certainly have not noticed someone else looking through that other window over there at Scrooge talking to that person we haven't introduced yet who works for Scrooge and strikes a completely coincidental resemblance to that character in A Christmas Carol who works for Scrooge and happens to be the father of Tiny Tim... Bob Cratchit or something," Bob announced loudly after a moment of silence to nobody in particular.

"Hang on, my name is Bob. His name better not be Bob as well, or this will just get confusing," Bob added.

"No, you're Bill. I'm Bob," Bill said.

"Oh, so you are," remarked Bob who was really Bill.

"Uh. Giratina. Instead of pestering... that man more, we really should ask someone what exactly is going on here." He waved the fanfic script in his hands, the other gloved fist on his hip. "We're supposed to get this to C- E- ...uh, the fanfiction tycoon, but not until later today."

"I wouldn't put it past him to shorten the date unexpectedly for a chance to..."

"NO! I requested a story about dancing bumblebees, not crickets who song opera!" he boomed.

"...go incredibly semi-out-of-character," concluded Giratina. "Say, let's talk to the two dudes over there. They might know something." She pointed to some mysterious undescribed men who had, at that moment, walked out of a building. Giratina moved to talk to them, but one glower from Zero made her pause just enough for him to protest that they'd be scared out of their wits if a giant dragon(ess) just stomped up to them. Giratina, pondering this for a while, pouted and waved a wing-hand to signify that he really ought to get it done quickish.

"'Scuse me," he said, practically drifting up to the two undescribed men with a rather bored expression on his face, "can either of you by any chance think of a way to get me away from her?" He gestured to Giratina with his head, who was now running over her fanfic script with a pencil to lessen Cyrus' Scrooge McPsyduck's the irritable schmuck's Grumpy McMultiplepersonalitydisorder's wrath.

OutOfCtrl (because I'm treating this as a roleplay);
Are the inserts going to be a Greek Chorus or actual, interacting characters? If so, we might as well remove the whole Christmas Carol thing entirely and make it just a roleplay set somewhere a long time ago.

[I'll be gone for a few days so I won't be able to write anything in the mean time. Here's probably my only entry. XD]
[Littered with mistakes because I wrote this in the reply box and I'm in a hurry.]

Ebenezer Scrooge McGolduck entered the room with a surly look on his face. Unusually for a Golduck, he was wearing a Tophat which, Mizan reasoned or thought, hid a hideous birth defect or something along those lines.

Mizan, wearing a black long coat, crimson shirt, and black tie, stepped forward to greet his boss --the Golduck.

"Excuse me Sir, Bob over there has been staring dreamily into the window for the past six hours," said Mizan with a complacent look on his face. Mizan smiled at the odd pair staring at Scrooge from outside the window in a bid to tell them that he noticed them.

Suddenly, the entire area turned red with a reddish glow. It was kind of like the moment when your character dies in a 1st person shooter game.

"Mizan!" hissed a flying greenish orb with bat shaped wings made of energy, "What the heck are you doing?"

"Hmm? I'm playing out my sadistic side. What does it look like?"

"He's supposed to be mean on his own! You can't encourage him!"

"But it's Christmas," Mizan said, "can't I be evil just this once?"

"It's a shared fic Mizan."

"Whatever Xavi," MIzan replied. Xavi, as Mizan knew, was just a rip-off of Navi from 'Legend of Zelda'. Of course, he had a different name and appearance to avoid lawsuits.

"Great, you've ruined me as a plot device!" said Xavi, "Where are we anyway?"

"The writer zone. This is the fifth dimension where I converse with you to avoid disrupting the pen and keyboard continuum."

"What a convenient plot device," remarked Xavi.

"Yes it is." Then Mizan returned to the real world where his boss had begun to jabber non-stop about word count and the fact that all his writers should write in bigger fonts to make their work seem longer.

"Screw this, I'm going out," thought MIzan. He went out and saw a plethora of people talking about Ipods and holding scripts. "These are my co-writers?"

"You bet," said Xavi; hovering near his shoulder.

OOC:

F.F. Giratina said:

OutOfCtrl (because I'm treating this as a roleplay);
Are the inserts going to be a Greek Chorus or actual, interacting characters? If so, we might as well remove the whole Christmas Carol thing entirely and make it just a roleplay set somewhere a long time ago.

Click to expand...

Hm, I think this is more like actual, interacting characters. However, this is already kind of a roleplay, but the difference is roleplays already has a plot set up while this crackfic almost anything goes (though we'll still discuss). You know what, I would actually consider this a crackfic/roleplay. :P

Speaking of roleplays...I think we should get the plot started and not just having inserts and characters added and interacting with one another. We need to get to the first spirit of Christmas soon!
---

"Stupid Scrooge, wanting me to force my writing. I need some time to make great mystery and suspense scenes," Bay muttered when she came in the building. Her eyes went wide when she saw Scrooge (a Golduck now) and Bob Cratchit arguing.

"But Mr. Scrooge, it's Christmas tomorrow!"

"I don't care! You'll work tomorrow! Time is money, honey!"

Is that all he says now? Bay thought to herself while pouting. After the grumpy Golduck left, the lady came to Cratchit.

"Hey there, Mr. Cratchit. What happened?"

The man had his hands covered his face. "Scrooge wants me to work on Christmas tomorrow. I know he'll want you to work on that day too."

"Probably. I still need to finish my fanfic."

"Don't we all," Cratchit said with a heavy sigh.

"Well, you know what I wished for?" Cratchit shook his head. "That Mr. Scrooge gets taught a lesson about the true meaning of the holidays."

Cratchit laughed. "You sounded just like my wife. She wanted the same thing. However, he's not all that bad. I'm grateful at least I have this job, especially in this economy."

"I guess you're right," Bay said, admitting defeat. "I need this job for now. But still, he's a nothing for good greedy, lonely bast..."

Cratchit shushed her. "He'll hear you! Besides, it's the holidays. Be nicer to him."

Bay just made a "I don't care" gesture with her hand. "I won't respect him until he respects me. Maybe you should rethink your devotion to that man." The lady then left, leaving Cratchit to stare at her in a concerned manner.

"Well, here we are." Dianne had finally recovered from her iPod loss, and was now dragging her group along.

"Ow, ow! Careful on the hand, just had it manicured!" Karone exclaimed. She was glaring at her OC friend, who, BTW, did not care at all for newly-manicured nails.

As they approached Scrooge (who now transformed into a crab), Red noticed a multitude of fan fic writers holding fan fic scripts. And one very large, also FEMALE Giratina.

All we need is a Vulcan who embraces feelings and loves to experience pon farr, then the world will be really upside down, he thought.

"Hey, wait, why's the time changed to night all of a sudden?" Yellow asked. "And what's that laughing Vulcan doing, hugging a fire hydrant?"

Stupid laws of narrative comedy.

"Some technical difficulties arose, you'll understand," mumbled a soft voice from inside the building.

"How so?" pestered another one, this one deeper and yet louder. "I never really got to ask you when I was... you know... alive. Because clearly I must make no sense whatsoever to your super-scientific brain, eh?"

"Be silent," demanded the first voice.

Zero watched alongside Bob and Bill as one person and one Pokémon walked out of Scrooge's building. One of them was a floating Marowak, who seemed to be firing insults at... that man.

Zero turned around and looked quizically at the spot where he could have sworn he had seen That Man before, but it seemed that the spike-haired man had turned into a Golduck. How strange...

"No, I mean," continued the flying Marowak, "why did you end up working with a Marowak and a Golduck? On fanfiction, of all things? You don't have enough writing ability to fill a teacup! And besides, what idiot is going to work with a Pokémon whose name is your surname? And someone named-"

"Good afternoon, Ghost," said That Man Scrooge, turning around.

"Don't just brush me off like that, or I'll have to-"

"Good afternoon, Ghost-"

"Scrooge!"

"Marley! GOOD-AF-TER-NOON!"

Zero's jaw dropped.

So, there were two Scrooges... a Golduck who was going around doing the actual Scrooging, and That Man Scrooge, who seems to have used the first exclamation point that's ever been associated with him in over fifteen years. Oh my.

Giratina hid the script behind her back and whistled (well, alright, tried to whistle and failed).

Giratina scowled as the sun promptly sunk. "Feh, continuity errors," she grumbled, looking up at the sky. "Zero! Get over here, there could be something important... yes, that means all of you you guys, too." She grabbed the still-nondescript Bob and Bill by their shirt collars and carried them over to Shayla and Mikey, Zero following not-quite-obediently behind. She dropped Bob and Bill on the ground in front of Shayla, Mikey, and Zero, and then began.

"Okay, so here's what's happening. Any of you ever read Witch Week? No? Pity. Well, what happened here is, someone continued the story on a sheer incline that basically removes all possibility to poke fun at things, because really, the only other thing that'll happen in this story is a nostalgia trip and some toooooor~meeeeeeent~" Giratina sang this part. "So we've either got to find a way to enter this silly stupidity or hop over to another Continuity and have it go a different way with That Man Scrooge. Is anyone opposed to... playing ghost?"

Giratina grinned wickedly.

SOMEWHERE IN THE ORANGE ISLANDS:

The Three Actual Ghosts of Past, Present, and Yet-To-Come totally forgot what they were going to do that night and went tot he nearest casino.

AND BACK WHEREVER THE HECK THE STORY TAKES PLACE:

Suddenly, a voice drifted out from Scrooge's window. "...A place worse than hell... the DISTORTION WORLD!"

"I heard that!" boomed Giratina, tossing a rock at the window.

What, no one posted here yet? I actually want to get started on the Ghost of Christmas Present, but want to wait untl one of you guys are willing to be the ghosts (as Giratina mentioned). Well, I'll get the New Years ball drop rollin'...

***
As night rolled in, Scrooge became tired and was getting ready for bed. Inside his bedroom there was nothing but a small bed, a dress cabinet, and a clock. This was the way he like it, plain and simple.

"... you will be visited tonight by three more ghosts as well as an employee who will play the role of the Riddler in this story. Heed their warnings well, or you will be doomed to spend eternity in a place worse than hell... the Distortion World!"

That thought had been on the Golduck's mind all night. Why would Marley come in a gothic Lolita dress and warn him about three ghosts? He never believed in the supernatural stuff nor the Distortion World. Also, why seven years after his death? If Marley thought the man was doomed, he would have warned him sooner.

"Riddle me this, Scrooge: What is it that no man wants to have, yet no man wants to lose?"

Scrooge could not stop thinking what Lisa said too. At first he wondered what the answer to that riddle would be, but then he decided it was just gibberish.

"Three ghosts and a riddle? Why I have to deal with those things this Christmas Eve?" Scrooge muttered to himself while putting on his pajamas (yes, Pokemon could wear clothes, oddly enough).

Scrooge went to bed without looking at the clock, which struck midnight.

"Nobody? Great." Giratina crossed her arms and grinned. "Zero, get in there. You're Past."

"Wait... what? But Ghosts are supposed to be able to fly, cause mirages, go back in time and other impossible things. Ghosts don't do it, and Zeroes don't do it either." Zero suddenly understood as Giratina tapped the back of her right hand with her left one. "...oh. Oh." He sighed.

"If I must, then."

And Zero walked out into the sky, moving along an invisible floor as if he were walking down Main Street. Climbing in the window, he stopped inside of Scrooge's bedroom and dusted himself off briefly before whipping the bedcurtains out from around Scrooge.

And the first thing he said was: "Gah! And here I thought I was going to be tormenting Magneton Man tonight. Feh, you'll do..."

And he began to glow. Faintly but visibly. Zero grimaced and looked down at himself briefly. The man could have sworn he heard the maniacal giggling of his boss echoing on the wind and through his ears. Ignoring that, Zero's frown deepened and kicked the bed. "Hello? Wake up! You're supposed to be visited by three Spirits, right? Here I am! Spirit! Specter! Ghosty!" He kicked the bed again for good measure.

Even if nobody else was going to do this properly, Zero (who had read A Christmas Carol exactly once in his life) would.

Sorry Giratina if I did Zero wrong! If I did, let me know so that I can edit this part later to keep Zero in character. Just to let you know, I have watched Giratina and the Sky Warrior, so I should have the basics of Zero's character here. ^^; Also, not sure if a lot of people are still doing this, I'm going to try to have the plot moving a bit...

***

Scrooge's loud snores could still be heard. Tired of this, Zero decided to kick the Golduck's back, causing the Pokemon to fall down on the floor. Scrooge immediately got up and shook his hand at the man.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?"

"I"m Zero. A certain legendary made me play as the Ghost of Christmas Past, though." He then turned around and muttered, "I'm going to get Giratina for this," without Scrooge hearing it.

The Golduck's face was of realization.

Marley said there would be three ghosts. Could he be the first one?

After being silent for some time, Scrooge coughed. "Christmas Past, huh? Long past?"

Zero scratched his chin, deep in thought. "Well, if Giratina and Dialga fought each other like a while ago when I took control of the Distortion World, then yes. For now though, it's going to be your past."

"I see..." Scrooge said in an emotionless tone. He then snorted. "I think Marley is bluffing."

In that instant, Zero grabbed Scrooge's hand and the two got out of the mansion, flying. The white haired man's eyes widen when he saw Giratina waving at him.

"Have fun, Zero!"

Zero reminded himself to "destory" the Pokemon once again.

***

It didn't take long for the two to go to the first destination. It was a huge stone walled building covered in vines. Outside there was nothing but snow, a winter wonderland. Children could be seen laughing and talking to one another, many leaving in carriages.

"Why, that's my old school!" Scrooge said, his eyes lit up in excitement.

"Yes, it is. However, I know you have bad memories in that place...or at least, that's what Giratina told me."

The two went through one of the windows and stopped to see a young Psyduck all alone besides a fireplace. There were tears on the Pokemon's face. Scrooge gasped, knew who that Psyduck was.

"That's me when I was a boy. I remember being all alone all winter because my dad wouldn't pick me up. Everyone else is able to leave."

Just then, a female Golduck burst out of the door and ran towards the younger Scrooge. The older and present Scrooge's eyes went wide.

"Ebenezer!"

"Fan!" the Psyduck cheered. The two hugged and didn't let go for a long time.

"My sister," Scrooge said in a nostalgic tone. "She came to pick me up because my father said I should leave this place and become a Golduck." He then frowned. "However, she died after giving birth..."

"To your nephew, Fred," Zero interrupted. "I'm more concern though no one mentioned him in this version of the crackfic."

Scrooge left out a confused expression. His life wasn't a big crackfic, was it?

"What? Well, nevermind. The point is though that Christmas I was more happy then ever before."

Zero grinned. "Ah, but there was one other Christmas that you liked very much."

The man grabbed the Golduck's hand and the two flew once more.

Meanwhile, the gang was now on, somehow, USS Enterprise-E. Apparently, some of the Star Trek characters had heard about someone making a crack-fic and decided, hey, they wanted in.

"Look, there she is!" Dianne exclaimed, pointing at some girl in a Riddler costume, getting in a Buick.

"Beam us in there!" Ash

"Where's my Pink Jet Jammer?!" Karone

"Where's my Quasar Saber?!" Leo

"Has anybody seen the Pokemon?" Yellow

"They're fine, all in their Pokeballs. Pikachu and Lynn are currently in their Trainers' bags." Red

"BEAM US DOWN! FREAKIN' BEAM US DOWN!!!" a now hyperactive Kirk, who wanted in on the crack-fic, excitedly shouted.

"To the transporter room!" yelled Dianne.

--

Minutes later, the four Trainers, two Power Rangers, and one former Starfleet captain squirmed uncomfortably in their hiding place: the Buick's trunk.

"I believe that the first riddle is love. People pretend to not want it, but secretly, they scream for it," Dianne whispered in who she believed was Ash's ear.

"Well, thank you, young lady!" Kirk happily agreed.

*SLAP* went Dianne's hand.

"OW!" Ash hollered, holding his injured cheek.

So is it I that recounts that of Scrooge? Such eloquent demeanour, yet the role must be fulfilled, thus unto Scrooge we speak of and continue, good sirs and madams.

Scrooge bloated up at the thought of seeing another Christmas of the past, though he was unsure why, Zero, the Ghost was getting uncomfortable though, as even though they were flying, a heavier load was being encountered, and thus becoming encumbered, as a result.

The older Scrooge began to see a scene change, including little elves that were using pulleys to manually change the scene – how strange.

Suddenly he recognized his older but still younger self, still a hearty Psyduck, he was attempting to read a picture book, it wasn't going very well though.

Suddenly someone spoke. "Dearest brother, where arest thou? Mighten I ask of you, a query?"

Scrooge, sitting awkwardly in a lounge chair, would, did not answer.

His sister however did not wait.

"Didst thou not here mine voice brother? We are to leave for [Lampoon's] Christmas vacation."

"Crazy woman! Get out of my sight!" The young Scrooge roared.

"Ah the good old days." The older Scrooge reminisced. The ghost looked at him with a shocked expression, but they both continued watching the scene unfold.

Suddenly a burly looking Usaring stormed in with a briefcase.

"Oh, hello fine school master," Scrooge's sister cheered, "Brought thee the master's briefcase? Depart quickly than we shall, brother."

The school master gave Scrooge a ferocious look, to which Scrooge ignored... He didn't want that to happen again. Scrooge got ready, his sister giving him that same stupid grin all the time.

"But I'm glad she's dead. Come on, lets move along now..." Scrooge cut in.