Ebenezer Scrooge sat in his reclining chair and stared at the TV. Every channel was filled with images of Santa or snowmen or reindeer. “Bah humbug!” he cried. “I don’t want to watch Rudolph save Christmas! I want to watch the 55 Precinct save New York! I want Third Watch! Bah humbug, I hate Christmas specials.” Grumbling, he turned off the TV and went to bed.
A few hours later, Scrooge awoke to the sound of rattling chains. Terrified, he turned on his lamp, only to see a large white Snowman staring at him. “Scrooge!” the snowman wailed. “I am the ghost of Frosty the Snowman! You do not like Christmas specials? You are a bad man, and you must change your ways!” Without warning, he was no longer in bed, but standing in an old-fashioned movie house, with many screens on the walls. All around him, different movies, mostly black and white, played. Standing beside him was a cartoon reindeer. He recognized the reindeer as the star of an old version of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer that he’d watched many years ago.
“Ebenezer Scrooge?” the reindeer asked. “I am the Ghost of Specials Past. Around you are all of the different Christmas specials that you used to watch as a child. Remember how excited you used to get? Remember how you used to enjoy sitting down with a cup of hot chocolate to watch these special shows? These shows meant a lot to you Ebenezer. Do you remember? Dooo you rememberrrrrr?” The Ghost faded away, his voice still echoing in Scrooge’s head, but he didn’t have long to contemplate.
And then he was standing in a modern-day movie theatre. As before, there were screens on all the walls, but this time they flashed images of Jessica Simpson dueting with her sister, of 98º reunited in Christmas harmony, of Clay Aiken trying desperately to grasp onto his last remaining strands of fame, and of other scenes from the Christmas specials that he’d flipped past this very year. Beside him stood Regis Philbin. “Mister Scrooge!” Regis shouted in his nasally New York accent. “I’m the Ghost of Specials Present. Usually they get Dick Clark, but he’s still recovering, so I’m filling in. Look around you. These people are desperate. They have no talent, and this is their only chance to do what they love. Would you really take that away from them, Mister Scrooge? Are you really so hard-hearted that you can’t sacrifice one week a year to let these people have their 15 minutes of fame?”
“Well,” Scrooge stuttered. He had no chance to form a real answer though, because Regis was already starting to fade.
“By the way, Third Watch was a repeat this week anyway!” And with that, Regis Philbin was gone, and Scrooge was standing in a strange room with a sort of a futuristic feel.
As before, the room had screens on every wall, but they were blank. Standing beside him was a robot. “Ebenezer Scrooge,” the robot began, “I am the Ghost of Specials Future. As you can see, there are no Christmas specials in the future. Viewership declined to the point where it was no longer profitable, so they were all cancelled. Now, no children will ever watch as Rudolph’s nose lights the way for Santa, or as Frosty comes to life through the magic in a hat. No one will ever hear Jessica Simpson’s breathy ‘pah-rum-pah-pah-PUUUUMMMM’. You have taken that away from them, Scrooge. But it’s not too late. The future can be changed, and so it must be! You must watch the Christmas specials! Watch them and enjoy themmmmmm….” The robot faded off into the darkness, and Scrooge was left standing all alone in the eerily darkened theatre.
He thought about what his childhood would have been like with no Christmas specials to herald the coming of Santa. He considered what the world would be like if there were no Christmas specials, just regular programming, every single day of the year. The more he thought about it, the worse he felt. “Come back, Ghosts, come back!” he shouted to the silent walls. “I can change! I will watch the Christmas specials, I want to! Please, come back!”
Suddenly the darkened room was not the futuristic theatre, but Scrooge’s own bedroom. He was no longer standing, but sitting in his bed, desperately clutching at the blankets. He was sweating profusely and breathing heavily. Looking at the clock on his nightstand, he saw that it was only 9:30 pm. If he hurried, he could still catch the end of the last Christmas specials. As he hurried down the stairs, he noticed that Frosty was waiting in the living room. “I’m glad you could make it,” the snowman said. “A Muppet Christmas Carol is on, and it’s my favorite one.” Scrooge grinned and flicked on the TV. As he watched Kermit and Miss Piggy sing, he realized that Christmas magic was all around him.