Sing's A Christmas Carol: Part 1

Jacob Wooley was dead. The cause had never been fully specified to the generally public; though many speculated it was due to either work or drink, but the result was the same. Wooley was dead; signed off by the minister and laid to rest at sea. That had not been his choice, but he had little say in the matter, for obvious reasons.

However, despite the grim events, the death of one miser was of little concern to anyone at this time of year. For that evening was December 24th, Christmas Eve. All through the quaint town, various animals were preparing themselves for the one holiday they could actually look forward to. The one day of the year when they were all given time off. Although most days were relatively peaceful and non-eventful, each animal strolling along, minding his own business and carrying on with the same passive conduct; Christmas drew out something different. Religious or not, the holiday seemed to intoxicate the whole town, renewing a sense of charity and compassion for one's fellow animal. That evening, even in the bitter cold, Christmas aura manifested itself through troops of carollers haunting the streets; elegant if crudely make wreaths or garlands strung up across dimly lit houses. Even the most serious business tellers were beginning to lock their store doors, occasionally tipping their silk hats to complete strangers, muttering a faint "Merry Christmas" on their way home. It was a custom, practically a tradition. It was as if Christmas had completely wrapped the entire town under its' festive spell. 

Well, most of them, that is.

Several blocks down from the main square situated a looming and ruddy building. The only building without any decoration or hint of festivity of any kind. Outside the blackened front door, a newly painted sign hung above the entrance, reading "Mouse & Wooley". Sadly, "Wooley" was now scratched out and only "Mouse" remained pristine. Through the door, faint candle light creeped in from two separate rooms: the clerk's quarter and the main office. 

There, resting cross legged and indignant at his desk, was Mr. Ebenezer Mouse. The main tax collector in town, business savage accountant and, arguably, one the most frosty individuals anyone could meet. Despite being a mouse out of all creatures, he would automatically scrutinised anyone who would dare cross him or keep him from his precious; silver and gold. From his lack of sensitivity to the scowl constantly fixed on his face, it was fair to say he was not the best animal to like. 

A knock on the door broke Ebenezer out of his daze from the local periodical he had been occupying.

"Come in," He called with a slight edge, "And wipe your feet!" 

The door flung open, sending in a flurry of bitter air. A porcupine couple brushed stray flakes off their overcoats, leaving soggy boot traces across the wooden floor. The miser just crinkled his nose in disgust, "What did I say? What did I just say to you?!"

The male porcupine lazily looked back, "Oh...Sorry dude. Didn't see the mat-OW!" His partner sharply elbowed him in the side. "Jesu-What?! I didn't!"

The female sighed and looked up at the mouse, towering down on her from the desk, "I'm so sorry; he's normally more careful than that, honest." Mouse slowly pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose, critically scanning the visitors up and down. Obviously was trying to seem genuine. Mouse knew from her wooden smile and squinting eyes she was as superficial as they came. Not worth his time at all. Pushing his pile of coins aside, he thrusted up his sleeves and activated his business mode. 

"What do you want? It's nearly dark and I'm a busy mouse." He questioned, leaning over the edge.

The male porcupine stepped forward, taking off his hat and clearing his throat. "Er...okay here's the deal. We're charity workers. You know, collecting for the poor and all that junk-"

"And you Sir known as one of the most plentiful animals in town," The female cut him off, adding a innocent giggle at the end. "It's that time of year again, Mr. Mouse and I think you can agree that it is the time to give."

"Mmm hmm?" Mouse cupped his cheek and leant on his elbow, "And?" 

Now the female began to falter, "A-and, with it being Christmas, many generous souls are willing to donate to those who have little-"

"Listen Sweetheart," Mouse stoke a finger up to her, "You probably don't remember, but you came by days ago. And my answer is the same: I have no idea who you're giving this money to so in my purse it stays. I have a job to do and frankly, so do should you instead of goin' around blaggin' animals for money."

"Look, we just wanna help." The male spoke up again. He was wringing his hat now, growing more and more uncertain; like a school boy confessing to drawing the dirty doodle on the chalkboard. "Winter's come and...you know, they're getting cold and hungry and no one wants that; no even us." 

"Oh I understand that." Mouse said bluntly. He shook his head with a light murmur. "Really. However, I don't think there's something you realise" Slowly, he drifted back down to his desk, monotonously counting stray coins closest to him, "Ya see, if you give the poor money, they won't be poor anymore."

"Well, obvious-"

"And if they ain't poor anymore, you got nobody to give money to anymore."

"Yeah, but-"

He firmly stamped a coin down, "And if you got no one else to give money to, you'll lose your a job. I don't wanna do that to you. I hope you can understand."

"Well, er..." The charity workers were lost for words, glancing nervously to each other.

"Good. Now go away." He said, ushering a paw in the air, "You're wasting your time and, more importantly, you're wasting my time."

The porcupines grew stunned, even the chatty one, "But, Mr. Mouse, it's Christ-"

"That won't change anything and as I said," His voice grew icy, " you're wasting my time." The collectors gulped; none of their calls had been like this and there's was no protocol for it. "But-"

Mouse's head dipped down to the desk, haltingly scribbling something on the parchment. "Good day."

"Sir-"

"I said Good day!" He shot back up at them. With that, the miser continued his counting. The male porcupine let out a small scoff as he turned tail, "Come on Beth, let's find somewhere else." As he stomped back towards the door whilst his partner simply stood with her mouth agape. Eventually, she let out a exasperated groan, rapidly turning on heel. Once she was near the entrance, the female inhaled and slammed the old door with a high-pitched growl, sending all the coins flying off the desk. The miser nearly shrieked himself; instead, he could only watch the precious gold pieces tumble off the edge, landing with several CLINKS on the wooden floor below. 

The already fixed scowl, moulded tighter on his face. That counting had taken him ALL morning. "Oh for the love of-! Cracker!" He bellowed, "Cracker, get your rear in here!"

Within a second, a young gorilla sprang up in the doorway. "Here Sir! Sorry Sir! Something wrong?"

"Cracker, stop mumbling and help me pick these up!" Mouse barked, stabbing at the sea of coins on the floor. " My morning's work: ruined!"
"Certainly, Sir." Fred Cracker mumbled as he knelt down to gather up the pieces. Incidents like these were not out of the ordinary. As well as keeping the books, Cracker was use to doing the more large scale tasks for Mr. Mouse, on the account of size difference. Eventually, Cracker cupped the all the coins in his palms, pouring them back onto the desk whilst his employer stood impatiently tapping his foot. "Is that all of them?"

"I think so." The young gorilla gulped. If one coin was missing, by jove, his master would know and who would get the blame? Him! And who would probably be fired? Him as well.

The Mouse heavily sighed, "Now I gotta count all of these again. All because some con-merchants and their 'cause'. Never trust self-righteous animals like them, Cracker. They think they can make a difference, but nothing will change."

Mouse gingerly hauled up one of the coins from the pile, partially catching a vague glimpse of himself in the bronze sheen. There was not much in life that pleased him, but money was not one of them. Money in his eyes was the life blood of a society. It paid his rent, his food, his clothes, his existence itself as a tax collector. They always said money could not buy happiness; for Ebenezer Mouse, it was the only thing that bought him happiness. In almost a state of intoxication, Mouse gathered up the coins with a light chuckle. "Money, money, money-"

All of a sudden, Mouse stopped. Cracker was still there. The miser immediately flushed and cleared his throat. "What are you waiting around for? Go back to your desk! I'll deal with this." The Mouse fumbled, in an miserable attempt composed himself. 

The Gorilla nodded and began to plod his way back. Suddenly, Cracker stopped and turned heel. "Actually Sir...I'm glad I got your attention. There's something I need to talk to you 'bout." His voice became lower, "You see, there's something I've been meaning to ask you...actually it's something I've been meaning to ask for a while but-"

"Okay Okay! First of all Cracker, stop with the mumbling, okay?" His employer chided, "You know I don't like it, 'Bla Bla Bla', it's irritating."

Cracker clenched his jaw, dropping his gaze down, "Sorry sir."

"Secondly, I've got counting to do. Make it quick."

"Well, you see, I wanted to ask if-" Cracker desperately wanted to continue, but he found his own nerves were rebelling against him. Mouse's indignant glare was not making the situation any easier. Fred Cracker had been Mouse's clerk for over a year now and still found it intimidating to talk to his master.

"Well?" 

Finally, Cracker gave his large hands one last wring and gulped a deep breath of courage.

"Mr. Mouse, can I please take Christmas Day off?" As rapid as it had been, that sentence enough made Mouse shoot up. Cracker stood, taking everything there was in him not to start shaking. He stared nearly terrified as Mouse gently removed his spectacles, polishing them with the edge of his cravat. "Pardon?"

Cracker sighed, "Mr. Mouse, I know how you are on staff policy, about us not coming in but please, I'm asking if I can have Christmas off. If you like, just this once. Never again!" The gorilla immediately bit back his tongue; that sounded too desperate.

Mouse fixed the spectacles back on, "Cracker, what's our saying?"

The gorilla blinked and raising his bushy eyebrows, "'T-Time is money',sir-"

"Precisely. Time is money and to make money, we cannot waste any time. The longer we waste, the quicker it falls from our pockets." Mouse wagged a coin at him.

"Yes, I know that. But-" He tried searching for the best words possible, taking in another deep breath, "But, if I gotta be honest, I think it's a bit unf-"

"Unfair?" Mouse's voice started to rise, "That's life, Cracker. It's unfair to all of us." He watched as the gorilla started mumbling for words; he tried to stifle an exasperated groan. Equally, young Fred Cracker had not been Mouse's first choice for a clark. His first interview had been tedious and more awkward than necessary, but he and Wooley needed staff and someone who could write, even if it was a lower class gorilla out of all things. They would not have to pay him much anyway. To their surprise, he proved to be a hard worker and was regarded as a good boy, if a little quiet and dim. Besides, Fred was the only one not to resign from Mouse's employment after Wooley's death. 

"No no no, sir. I-I didn't mean it like that!" He eventually blurted back, "I mean, are you gonna take Christmas off?"

For once, Mouse did not reply back. Instead, he gently plucked his quill from its' inkwell, glacially scribbling notes down. His usual scowl had now hardened into a bitter expression. "I don't celebrate Christmas."

"Oh...Oh! Oh blimey..." Cracker raked his parted hair back. His cheeks were lightly glowing from embarrassment. "Sorry...are you taking Hanukah off ?"

"Despite the blaring stereotypes, I'm not Jewish..." He continued his scribbling.

"...Ramadan?"

"Cracker, enough!" The miser stabbed the pen back in his holder, "I'm not of a different religion, I just don't celebrate Christmas! It's just another miserably day like any other! Singing, decorations, presents, plates of food you're never gonna eat again for a whole year and cart loads of other nonsense. Tell me, what's there to celebrate, huh? Some holy guy was born and that's it! Besides," Mouse paused to pant after his small rant, "Didn't you already ask for a raise, like a couple of weeks ago?"

Cracker only started to recuperate from the speech as he answered, "Well, yes...but you can forget it. Honestly, no raise needed; I'm just asking just this once. If you want, I'll work for free for the next month."

"As much as I want to Cracker, I can't. Worker's rights would be all over me." The Mouse slammed one last coin down, "Anyway, I'm losing my patience here. Christmas, it's just a waste of time and, more importantly, a waste of money! I'm certainly not taking a day off because every other idiot is off his head with 'Christmas spirit'. You are the only member, the only one, who's bothered to stick around after Wooley boy kicked the bucket. Don't make begin to doubt your commitment to this business. Now go back to your desk!" The miser once again resumed his counting, mouthing each number under his breath.

The young gorilla fished for something to say, but it was useless; all that potential courage he had before was gone. Whatever was left made Cracker internally droop. He quietly hissed and slowly turned heel once more. 

"Yes sir; forget I asked, sir."

After an hour, the clock struck six. Cracker rapidly glanced over his shoulder, gleefully slapping the accounting book shut and heaved himself off his tiny stool. He swung to the coat rack, grabbing his patched coat and flat cap. Mouse was still scribbling notes down at his desk, partially looking across  at Cracker. He casually pulled out his own pocket watch, "That clock's thee minutes fast." The Gorilla instantly stopped tying his crinkled scarf, peeling the coat off him.

"Never mind, just go home!" Mouse blurted back, to the relief of his employee. Cracker was nearly at the door when, "Um...Cracker, wait a moment." The Gorilla turned around, "Sir?"

The mouse sat down his pen, "Look, I've been doing some thinking and...you know what, just go home and get some rest. Consider this...your Christmas eve or whatever it's called, off.

Cracker's eyes widened, "Really?"

"Yes. And, if you get here first thing tomorrow morning," A frosty smile formed on his lips, "I might consider that raise."

Cracker flashed a beaming smile, "Sir, I-"

"But, you come in late," The frosty smile reversed into a scowl once more, "You're fired."

A worried expression now plastered on the gorilla's face, "Oh....o-okay. Don't you worry, I'll be here first thing, I promise. Um...well, see you tomorrow, Sir. Have a Merry Christ-er-Good evening...Have a Good Evening, Sir."

"Go home, Cracker."

"Right", He tumbled with the door handle, "Merry Christmas."

A Bam echoed throughout the counting house. Mouse tutted as he took a minuscule sip of his coffee.

"Load of Humbug." He uttered, massaging his suddenly aching temples.