Drifts of snow fell in white tuffs around a sleepy Burritzkoldtian suburb village on Christmas Eve. The last of dawn's light kissed the flecks of glistening ice that clung to the sides of buildings like moss; windows luminescent with brilliant hues of orange and red, crackling of fire and hearth. It was a chilly winter evening -- no doubt about it. Candles flickered in the draft of many of the windows ... except one.

"SULLY!" A gruffly azure-coloured bird cried, adjusting his dusty old top hat. He sat alone at his desk, save for piles of silver coins set in neat little stacks, and a small lamp with barely enough oil to burn. Being miserly had its ... points.

A bright young fox, with accompanying warm smile, entered the chill of the office. He flicked his tail in greeting to the ragtag old bird, eager to be off from his job to spend the rest of the evening with his girlfriend -- Mim. "Y-yes, Master Minkle? You called for me?"

"Sit."

Sully did as Minkle instructed, bracing his behind from the under kept office seat. Several springs poked dangerously from the fabric on top, so one had to stand or face to the precarious fate of a jab to the behind.

"Are all of the rents in from this month?!" Minkle growled. "If anyone missed their payment, I want them evicted tomorrow." Sully pretended to smile. "A most considerable idea, Sir."

"Yes yes, isn't it? Well, come on with it! Who will we be kicking out for the winter? Serves them right for not paying me on time, you know."

Sully chanced a peek at a dusty clock in the corner of Minkle's office, then to the pile of glittering coins on his desk.

"The Catlows. They're unusually late with the rent this month."

"Gene ... that fool. Send him the eviction notice tonight, and good riddance."

Sully grimaced. "But ...Sir? Isn't it Christmas?"

"Isn't it Christmas?!" the nasty little blue bird mimicked. "BAH-HUMBUG! Humbug humbug!" He snarled, flapping his wings with grim furor. "I will have no more talk of this Christmas! It's disgusting!"

"Sir Minkle Scrooge, I ... I don't know if I can. And what about the Christmas bonus you promised the staff last year? Mim isn't cheap to holiday shop for, you know."

"What did you say, Mister Sully? Are you questioning me?"

The fox bit his lower lip, glaring back at Minkle with disgust. "Yes, I am. You have no right to evict innocent people on Christmas Eve because their payment is still in queue. And the bonus -- the whole staff remembers your promise."

Minkle glared at the coins on his table, suddenly lapsing into lost memory. He had drank too much brandy that night a year ago, promising the whole staff that the 'bonus' he had squandered on discount ice cream sammiches previously was needed to repair the office.

"I don't recall such a thing."

Sully slapped his forehead.

"At any rate, fox," Minkle spat, "you will not question my orders again, or you will be the one evicted for the winter. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes," Sully mumbled, shaking with sorrow. Mim wasn't going to like this. "And you can forget the bonus for the whole staff. Consider it your punishment."

"Of course, Sir. And a Merry Christmas to you," the vulpine said, feeling the sharp prick of a spring coil to his tail.

"Christmas again?! OUT!"

Sully sprang up from the chair, tipped his ragged old hat to Minkle with a flourish, and departed. The blue bird sat there counting his coins until late into the evening.

·· ¤ ··

Minkle's journey home wasn't a terribly complex affair. He haggled with the carriage driver over a few pennies -- and victorious -- made his way to a modest house set in a frothy bend by the river Nishnabotna. The bird lived alone, figuring family such an expensive thing to keep, and set a fire with some logs he 'borrowed' from his neighbor down the street -- some weird, very large, blue fox.

Heavyset with thin eggnog, the drowsy bird slipped under the covers of his old bed, and unceremoniously blew out the candle. The old grandfather clock labored with its steady tick-tick, until it hit twelve chimes. Minkle was usually used to the noise, but this time it felt ... different.

The air suddenly grew dank and cold, and a creeping suspicion chided at him that he wasn't alone. That ... was when he heard the pair of chains. The sorrowful, clink-clink of metal that emanated from the walls ... or the window? No. It was everywhere.

The bird peeked over the edge of his covers, terrified. Standing in front of him were two small figures, draped in ghostly white robes, complete with mysterious hooded veils. Mist covered the floor in thick plumes, while the room continued to grow colder and colder. The chains stopped clinking, as the two figures stopped mere feet from the foot of the Miser's bed.

"Miiiiiiiiiiinnnnkkklllee..." One the two rasped from behind the frost-laced veil.
"Achoo!" The other braced, apparently in a sneeze.

"Stephen! You ruined the effect!" Said the other in disgust.

"Well... I'm sooooo sorry we had to leave the window open, Mary Mary Bo-Berry Minch."
"Oh, sure! Let the bird know who we are, eh? Well, no matter -- the fog machine is broken anyway."

Minkle was lost for words, but he quickly found a few: "What the heck are you two doing here?" The hooded mice removed their hoods, and proceeded to smack each other around.

"We're..." Said Stephen.
"...the mice," said Mary.
"...of Christmas," said Stephen again.
"...spirit," finished Mary.

"That means you're getting three visits tonight, pal. Two mice and a ferret, to be precise," both said in unison.

"Two mice and a ferret? I wonder who they could be?" Minkle chortled.

"Shutup. We're getting paid to do this, you know -- we have to make a living." Long pause. "Look scared," Mary whispered to Minkle. "For effect." The bird winked, and proceeded to start shaking in fear.

Stephen put on his super-ghostly voice. "Ahem...you will see three ghosts: the first at 1 o'clock
, the second at 2 o'clock, and the third ... whenever she feels like it. Kapish?"

"Whatever. Can you two go, now? I want to get some sleep," Minkle snorted.

"Fine. Let's blow outta here, Stephen. We have to collect our cheese from that friendly eggplant for doin' this gig." Both mice waved farewell, and vanished. The bird breathed a sigh of relief. Was he dreaming? Was this merely brought on by too many visits to one particular website? That couldn't be the case.

·· ¤ ··

The clock struck one, sure enough. Minkle sat up with a start, wiping his damp feathery brow with a wing tip. His eyes adjusted to the gloom of his room. No ghost yet.

"Crockery," he mumbled, settling back down into his covers.

"Don't get comfy yet," a friendly voice echoed from behind him. Minkle's bloodshot eyes darted wide open. He glanced around the edge of his bed. Standing there in a ghostly, pale-blue wind-swept (though no wind -- creepy) robe was none other than a ferret. She grinned down at him, offered a little wave, and floated on over to the terrified blue bird.

"My name is Marble, and I will be your ghost of Christmas Present this evening."

"N-n-nice to meet you, Miss Marble."

"Shut up, Minkle. You already know me," Marble snickered. "Grab hold of my sleeve, and away we go!"

The bird did his the ferret bid, and grasped the sleeve of the ferret's phantasmal robe. He was suddenly surrounded a flashing white light.

They appeared in the middle of a forest set in spring. The grass was young beneath their feet, littered with mushrooms; spring flowers dotting up from the ground like rainbow sprinkles.

"Remember this place, Birdbrain?" said the ghostly Heeba. "T-this is where I grew up!"
"Very smart birdie." Marble ruffled Minkle's head feathers. "Look, up in the tree. See that nest? Let's go take a look."

As with every magical tale, the two instantly appeared floating around the nest. At the center were a few eggs; one of them the blue polka-dots.

"That's...ME! Me, when I was a little chick!"

Marble giggled. "Yep. You were so adorable, all ... er ... well ... um ... inside that egg. Your mom took extra care to keep you warm from the forest chill."

Minkle was spellbound.

"Though I hate to spoil the moment," Marble said, "we have better stuff to do, yanno? Hokey-pokey, we're outta here!"

More white light. Minkle and Marble were right in the middle of a ... football game?

"Woooo! Go Bruins!" The bird cheered.

"Yes, your creator is a tragic Bruins fan, so we have to put this somewhere in the story. Look, over there in the crowd. See that little bird?" Minkle squinted his eyes at a younger version of himself, cramming down a hot dog with gusto.

"Oink oink," Marble taunted.

"Hey, I was little then--" Minkle huffed, "and you still eat the same way now," the Heeba finished for him. "Though that was one of your good points. Okay, well, I'm not terribly into football, so we're leaving now."

The two appeared on a desolate street. "And this is where?" Miserly Minkle asked.
"Beats me. I think you can figure it out."
The bird crossed his wings, and peered in the window of one of the forlorn houses. "Hey ... hey hey! I think I used to live here!"

"You think?" Marble giggled.

"Yeah! See those claw marks on the ceiling?! That's where I got my first flying lesson! And...andand...those peck marks on the rafter! That was when I was trying to hang up some mistletoe for Sully and Mim!"

"How touching. Well, let's move on..."

Marble and Minkle appeared in his office. "This is where everything went straight to heck. You got greedy, or whatever." The bird nodded, catching a glimpse of his younger self (though he was still quite young), getting his promotion to manager. And then company head. Then CEO. Yikes.

"You started your own business, and your heart grew cold."

"No it didn't."

"We need to have a storyline," Marble said boredly.

Minkle paused to recollect his past day. He was rather mean to Sully earlier. Heaven knows what the other two ghosts would have to say.

"Anyhow, my time with you is up. Call me, we'll go out for an ice cream sammich or something." Marble gave Minkle a hug; another blinding flash, and the bird was sitting in his room again ... alone.

"Another dream? A wacky one, at that." The blue bird crept under his covers, and attempted to get some sleep.

·· ¤ ··

The clock chimed coldly again -- this time twice. It was two o'clock, and another ghost was due. A harsh kick landed on his side; it would seem this new ghost didn't like to mess around. "Up. Get up, idiot. You come with me, we'll take an introspective walk in the present, and I'll deliver you back here all warm and comfy. Up, get up, and get ready." The figured removed his hood -- it was none other than Yebbo. The greytone fur and execrable mood defined him well.

That familiar white light surrounded the bird, and he found himself ... in Sully's house. Both foxes -- Mim that is -- were curled up on the couch, talking about none other than Minkle. One other fox was present -- a Canadian one at that, complete with a Jedi robe and Ewok doll.

"Look, he's my pal and all, Mim, but that bird has some big issues," the fox huffed soundly. "Maybe you should quit? Find another job?" Mim offered. Sully shook his head. "Even though he keeps misplacing the yearly bonus, his pay is still enough, and ... I think I'm respected there."

"Think?!" Mim snickered.

"Hoo, you're one silly fox, Sully," Amara offered.

"I know. I ... I still respect Minkle, though." Sully raised a glass filled with eggnog. "I propose a toast to that birdie. May he live long and prosper!"

Amara frowned at the Star Trek cameo.

"Fine. A toast to the Bird Scrooge!" The three toasted, and drank to his health.

"Those buzzards!" Minkle hissed. "Talkin' that way about me. I'm plenty nice to Sully!"

Yebbo slapped him upside the head, sending an odd blue feather scattering into the air. "Oh? Wasn't it you who threatened to evict him? Which reminds me ..."

The scene of Sully's home vanished, this time replaced with ... under a bridge? "And what are we doing here, mouse?"

Yebbo slapped him smartly again. "Take a look by that trash can."

Minkle squinted his eyes, catching sight of a squatted figure burning trash admidst several other homeless furries.

"That's Gene Catlow. Your buddy that you evicted because his rent was late. Very smooth, Minkle."

"He had no ri--MPH!!" Yebbo clamped his beak shut with a twist of his paw. "This is the present, bird. Now my favourite cat is out on the street on Christmas morning because of you. You ... disgust me," the mouse snarled. Yebbo let go of Minkle like anybody's care.

"Your time with me is up. Have fun here."

"You're not taking me back?" Minkle gasped.

"Why should I?" Yebbo snickered, before vanishing into the night breeze.

Minkle was alone.

·· ¤ ··

Minutes (hours?) passed. The air was cold, and Minkle wasn't quite dressed for the occasion. He hadn't the guts to join Gene by the trash can, so he set himself with pacing now and again to fight off the night's chill. That ... was when something tapped him on the head.

"You look cold, silly beans! Why would you be running around in your pajamas on a night like this?" Of course, the questioner already knew the answer. Minkle looked up, not to see a ghost clad in ephemeral luminescent robes, but plain 'ol Reeba, dressed in her familiar tank-top and bell-bottom garb. "Ghost of Christmas Future reportin'!" The mouse saluted smartly. "Round and round we go, where we stop, only I know! Kazam!"

The white mouse broke into a midair spin, grabbed Minkle, and tossed him into the air. She didn't bother to catch him, but let him fall ... and fall he did, continuing toward the ground which he met with a sickening plop. When he stood up, he was no longer under the chilly bridge, but a chilly graveyard instead.

Reeba furtively came up behind him. "BOO!"

"Y-AHHH! Murder! Murder!" the blue avian cried. "Hush, hush." Reeba landed on a large gravestone with her tiptoe, and proceeded to spin around like a ballerina. "Welcome to your future!" She sang, breaking into a little jiggy in the air. "This...might be YOU!" She said dramatically, grabbing his head with her tail, and turning it toward a gravestone close by.

"Take a look. Look harder, Simba!"

Minkle meandered shakily toward the gravestone, and cleared away some dust fearfully. It read:

SIR MINKLE SCROOGE, R.I.P.

The bird, of course, screamed. Reeba flattened her ears to close out the sound. "Yeesh, you're a noisy birdie. Well, my job is done. Bah-bye!" She waved to Minkle, and vanished into mist.

·· ¤ ··

Minkle woke with a start, quickly chancing a peek at the grandfather clock. It was nine in the morning, Christmas Day. His covers were spread akimbo, and he was laying on the floor of his bedroom. "What a nightmare!" he reflected.

The blue bird padded over to the window, and opened it -- letting the frostbitten air rush into his face feathers. It was a glorious thing to be alive.

At that moment, a rat passed under the window. "Er...Merry Christmas!" Minkle chimed to the rodent. She looked up at him coldly. "'An merry 'Giftmas' to you, too!"

"Want to make five bucks?"

PacRat looked interested. "Yeah. I like money."

Minkle did a little dance. "Good! Please go to the ice cream shop, and buy the biggest ice cream sammich you can!" The bird, stupid as he was, threw down a fifty to PacRat. He never saw her again.

·· ¤ ··

A knock sounded on Sully's door. The fox opened the door, and dropped his jaw. "Minkle?! What are ... you doing here?! Please, come in!" The bird did as Sully asked. He stopped for a moment to regard his worker, then broken down. Amara (a little busy with the new lightsaber she received for Christmas) and Mim came up behind Sully. "Well, go on."

"I'm sorry for acting like such a bird brain. I...gave Gene his house back, and the bonus is already in the staff's next paycheck."

Sully gasped. "Minkle, buddy, you're so awesome!"

If birds could blush, Minkle would.

"Everything is going to be different now. You can be sure of it!" All three hugged, amidst the faint din of gift opening and Christmas laughter. It certainly was one of the best times of the year.

·· ¤ ··

Epilogue

Minkle organized a grand feast at his expense (being he never found the giant ice cream sammich that he ordered from that odd rat), and invited a few of Sully's friends to the Great Hall that very evening:

Aardwulf, Accipiter, Acru Fox, Addison ,Aechla ,Alaska Kat, Alethi, Ali Wildgoose, Amoux, Andwyn, Angel Bear, Anise, Anshin, Antheos, Apocalypse Pete, Arianna, Ariel, Arphalia, Art Guy, Artie_roo, Arved, Arylkia, Aryntha, Ashryn, Aspirin, Austin Dern, Bad Karma, Badvibes, Bander, Baron, Basalt, Beemer ,Ben Bruin , Big Robot Erin, Bigfella Machine, Binky, Bits, Blackfox , Blairz, Blizzard, Boxcutter, Bravo Fox, BunnyHugger, Calico Katt, Calypso, Cameroo, Candy, Caraig, Cardinal Fang, Cat Watson, Catnel, Cecil , Chakat Goldfur, Chatin, Chayse, Chia, Chilly Mouse, Chipmunk, ClaireBear, Concolor, Cosine, Coyohti , Croft, Cuanu, Cybre, Cyril , Malton , Dal , Dalia, Dameriose, Dandy, Dante, Darkhorse, Dark Sidhe, Dash, Dawndra, Dawneater , Dell Collberman, DeRaptor, Diedrupo, Digo Raccoon , DLM X-13, DoodLeS, DouBleU, Effix , EG Foxfire, EmilyCat, Erin Cat , Erin The Swordmaker, Evill, Ezuli, Fangs , Fanimal , FeliciaK, Felidae, Felina, Fenn, Fernblossom, Fhaolan , Firesoul , FlameKat , Foxxor, Foxy!, Fuzzybear , Gabrielle, Gedd, Gerbil, Gilly , Ginger, Glis Mousie, Glumilan, Go Ryusuke, Goldenwolf , Granite, Grey, Gryllus, Gwendel, Hali, Hedgy, Hiker, Hopper Roo, Howie, Inhandra , J Skunk, Jackrabbit, Jaguarundi, Jaquel , Jay, JDLynx, Jedd , Jessup Columbia, Pyrobunny , Jordan Greywolf, Jyiis, Kamau, Kangaroo-Boy, Karma Leafbarer, Kate McKitten, Katrina, Kayne, Kelvin the Lion, Kem, Kendel , Kenket, Kese, Kevin J. Dog , Kitsumi, Kitsune, Kittrel En'Raideth Am'Kaelzen , Kobus, Yippee Coyote, Kompy, Kooky, KrazyKlaws, Krishva, Kubo, Kyoht, Lady Littlefox,Lancid, Lazarus Rat, Leonid, Li'l Lady, Lil Vixen, Lilith, Lindgold, Loam, Loopy, Lutra, Lyosha, Lysozyme, Madbadger, Maggock, Malathar, Marcello Rupelli, MartinWolf, Masek, Mason, MathiasBW, Matrix, Maui, Maxwell, MaxWolf, MayFurr, Meeka the Cat, Melbasaur, MelSkunk, Micah, MiddleTails, Miles, Minwa, Missy, Mistletoe, Mitsuo Keito, Monica MtLion, Moonbeam, Moonstalker, MoRBiD, Morgana, Morton , Mousie, Mr. Ploppy, Mystic Alpha, Nambroth, Neikrad, Nev Blackfox, Nightwolf, Nikas, Noelani Manawolf, Noogy, OcELoT, Ocicat, Oldrabbit, Onci, Orwin , Otookee, P.I. BlueAngel, Pegasus316, Penguinio, Piccillo, Pickalock , Picklejuice, Pipix, Ponygirl, Prowler, Psycrowe, Puck, RA Lupous, Radd, Rafferty, Ragnar, Rahmal, Rai, Raptor Woman, Raven M., Ravenwolf , Raymond 'SilverFox', Redoxen, ReNo, Ri'Hahn, Rian Real, Roku, Roxikat, Roy, Ryngs, Sandy, Sebrina, Seth, Tora, SewerRat, Shadow 'n Smudge, Shai, Shasa, Sigmund, SilvaVixen, Silver, SilverFox, Singe, Sinyx, Skaven, Swift Claw, Smudge, Sneakers, Snocat, Snoo, Snoozeball, Snowdog , Snowhide, Socara Tapestri, Sox, SpaceCat, Spaceroo, Speck, Springer, Spunky, Starfinder, Stinken, Stoneth, Straker Skunk, Strange-Mouse, StrayWolf, Sunny, SuperCrazzy, Swike, Synnabar, T'Kuro Grym, Taan, Tapestry, Tappy Cat, Te'nala, TeknoKat, Templeton, The Erlkin, The Orochi, The Robot Man, TheKitFox, Thryomanes, Tet Solfire, Tim Kangaroo, Toast, Toledo, Torrent, Tremaine, Trent the Fox, Trixi, Tronak, Tuesday, Turbine Divinity, Twap, Ulario, Unci, Undertow, UttMann, Velvet, Verty, Virtual Vikki, Whisper Panthress, Wormwood, Wyllow, XianJaguar, Zaush, Zero Wolfe, and Zuccini!

~Fin~