Top Ten Reasons Why Ebenezer Scrooge Was the Hero of A Christmas Carol

Ho ho ho, 3.5 readers. Am I in the festive spirit? No, I’m just calling 3 out of 3.5 of you prostitutes.

You’re probably one of those commie pinkos who thinks that Ebenezer Scrooge only becomes the hero of A Christmas Carol at the end of the story when he starts giving away all his stuff, but come with me and you’ll see that Old Scroogey was the tops all along.

#1 – Scrooge was a self-made man.

Started at the bottom, now he’s here. You know he got there? A lot of hard ass freaking work. You know how he didn’t get there? Laying about. You know how he doubly didn’t get there? Handing out his hard earned Victorian era gold coins to good for nothing reprobates.

#2 – Belle Sucks

The Ghost of Christmas Past, one of three socialist specters who barge into Scrooge’s bachelor pad in the middle of the night like they own the damn place, takes Scroogey Pants to his youth, where he sees his young self getting dumped by his then fiance, Belle. The man’s crime? He worked too much.

Let me reiterate: his dumpworthy crime was that he worked too much.

Holy shit. Charles Dickens was peddling this Lifetime Channel for Women crap long before there was a Lifetime Channel for Women. Do you want to know why men have such a hard time understanding how to make a woman happy? It’s because Lifetime Channel for Women Christmas movies literally have the same plot points, ironically all within the same films:

  • Woman dumps high school boyfriend because HE lacks ambition.
  • Woman dumps boyfriend she met in the big city because HE works too much. Fuck that guy for having way too much ambition.
  • Woman returns to hometown. Reconnects with high school boyfriend. Appreciates how he is laid back and supportive and has time for her and…will support her while SHE works hard and pursues her AMBITION.
  • Lost after the end credits – the part where now successful woman grows resentful of how ambitionless HS BF is a wimpy moocher so she has an affair with a rich successful dude who is ambitious AF.

All I’m saying is if Belle had loved Scrooge, she would have stuck with him and supported him in his goal of becoming the most successful usurious counting house operator in all of Old London Town. Flip the script. If Scrooge had dumped Belle for having goals, that same busy body ghost would be dragging his old ass out of bed just to rub it in his face that if he’d just supported his fiance’s dreams, he’d be knee deep in Belle’s knickers by now and not all alone on Christmas Eve as a decrepit old fuck.

#3 – Mr. Fezziwig Blows

Past Ghost also drags Scrooge to an old office party, showing the old coot that once upon a time, he had a boss by the name of Mr. Fezziwig and that boss knew how to have a good time. Yes, on Christmas Eve, Scrooge’s very first employer would push all the desks to the side and bring in the band and the food and everyone would have a rocking good time…on whose time? You guessed it. On the shareholders’ dime.

Yeah, you might think Fezziwig is a barrel of laughs, but do the math. He’s one of those dumb Wall Street types who caused the market crash in 2008. Remember all those stories of executives going wild with their companies’ profits? Spending lavishly on extravagances, all the while ignoring the fiscal health of their corporations? You know what these shitheads spent money on? Parties. You know what they didn’t spend it on? A mother-humping rainy day fund that would have kept the company afloat and the low-level Cratchit type office drones employed through hard ass times.

You got a boss like Scrooge who demands that everything be business as usual on Christmas Eve? Good. Thank his ass for keeping the company you depend on to put food in your mouth afloat and not spending your next paycheck on stupid ass parties.

#4 – Fuck Fred

Fuck Fred and all of his dumbass holier than thou trust fund millennial bullshit. Fred acts like he’s the shit because he’s young and hip and has friends and they get together and have hot and swanky Marco Polo parties where blindfolded guests try to find each other and maybe every so often a gentleman will rub up against a lady’s ankle. Scandalous, I say!

You know what Fred doesn’t know about? Work. Fred can whine about how grumpy his uncle works but if Fred had any idea how much freaking blood, sweat and tears his deceased parents put into funding the trust fund that pays for him to be a swanky ass Marco Polo party throwing gentleman, or how hard Scrooge has worked and how he still finds time to manage that trust fund so Fred doesn’t end up in some Victorian back-alley giving hand jobs to Jack the Ripper types for a six pence, he’d shut his damn gob and for once in his useless life, thank his uncle for everything, then go to his parents’ graves and thank their dead asses too. Seriously, Fuck Fred.

#5 – The Cratchits Need to Stop Fucking

Look, overall Bob Cratchit seems like a good egg and I would say is another unsung hero of the story, second only to Scrooge. Bob is a broken down old middle aged asshole who probably had a lot of hopes and dreams when he was young but then somehow took a few wrong turns and ended up as a scrivener in Scrooge’s counting house. For those not in the know, being a scrivener in the 1800s was basically the equivalent of being a human printer. Scrooge would just dictate his letters like, “Hey Fuckface! You owe me 50 gold coins! Pay up or I’ll foreclose on your shack!” and then dutiful employee that he was, Cratchit would dip his quill pen in an ink fountain and scrawl across a piece of fresh parchment, “Hey Fuckface! You owe Mr. Scrooge 50 gold coins…”

Anyway, we all make mistakes in life, some of us more than others and in Cratchit’s case, you can’t fault a man who is on the ropes yet keeps getting back up to let life take more swings at him. He comes to work every day and takes Scrooge’s verbal abuse and never talks back and listen up kids, because any adult worth their salt will tell you that literally half the battle when it comes to holding down a job for the long term is a) keep showing up and b) keep taking your boss’ verbal abuse while saying nothing in return.

But Bob and Mrs. Cratchit have a big problem. They like to fuck. And it’s old times so there’s no rubbers or contraception and I think everyone in this time period thinks all of that is evil anyway. Plus, everyone is potent as all get out because all the food is fresh with no preservatives. There’s no microwaves or laptop computers on your junk or cell phones in your pocket transmitting signals to your junk. There’s no soda pop or fast food or bad food and no tighty whitey underwear so literally, every fuck session results in a kid. Fuck. Boom. A Kid. Fuck. Boom. Another kid. If you lived in Victorian England under the reign of Queen Vicky and Prince Albie and you fucked, then clear your schedule for 9 months because a baby is on the way.

But let me ask you this. Is it Scrooge’s fault that Mr. and Mrs. Cratchit like to get their fuck on? I don’t think so, yet that leftist troll Dickens sure seems to think it is. For Christ’s sake, Scrooge gave Cratchit a damn job when no one else would and yet, Dickens acts like just because Cratchit acts as Scrooge’s personal photocopying machine, that somehow requires Scrooge to pay for every single one of the Cratchit offspring from the cradle to the grave.

Look kids. Here’s a breakdown of whether or not your employer is required to pay for every last living expense of every last one of your progeny.

QUESTION #1 – Did your your boss hit that pussy? If no, then shut the fuck up and a) either stop fucking or b) get a job and you know what c) tell your wife to get a damn job too. If yes, then alright, he should pay for the resulting kid but you need to talk to your wife and demand that she stop fucking your boss.

That’s it. There is no question 2.

Sidenote: Could Scrooge have a heart and spare some dough to help Tiny Tim get a fucking operation to cure his gamey foot and leprosy and downtrodden street urchin syndrome and whatever else old timey disease he has? Sure…IF HE WANTS TO.

REMEMBER:

A) Scrooge didn’t get his fuck on. We know this, because he’s a lonely old son of a bitch who lives all by himself in a dusty old mansion. Life is all about choices. Scrooge chose money over pussy and given the way Belle treated him, I can’t say he’s wrong. Cratchit chose pussy over money and as a result, he might be rich in love but it really isn’t Scrooge’s responsibility to give up his loot whenever the Cratchits bump uglies. Had Cratchit wanted to be rich, he could have just as easily told Mrs. C to cool her jets because he needs to take on more scrivening jobs and become a multi-million-gold-coin aire/human mimeograph mogul but he didn’t. He chose to fuck and so he gets what he deserves. In the end, we are all the sum of our choices.

#6 – Screw Scrooge’s Ungrateful Mortgagees

You know what the best moment of my life was, noble reader? The day I got approved for a mortgage. That meant I got to put down roots on my own piece of land and be the king of my own castle. Pretty great feeling. You know what happens when you get your own place? You get lots of junk mail – rat bastards who want to loan you money because they know you must have some if you got approved for a mortgage.

You know why I like having my own place? Because I can do whatever I want in the privacy of my own house. That’s right. If I want to draw a clown face on a paper grocery bag and throw it over my head and masterbate myself gently to sleep whilst enthralled in a marathon of old Airwolf episodes I can, and fuck you and everyone else who doesn’t think the best show ever made starring Jan Michael Vincent as the pilot of a top secret CIA spy copter isn’t the tits.

But I digress.

The Ghost of Christmas Future shows Scrooge a couple who were about to lose their home because they fell behind on the mortgage payments. They learn of Scrooge’s death and are elated because this means they get more time to come up with the cash.

Look, my mortgage lender is a coldhearted, faceless corporation, but let’s say, for the sake of argument, that my lender was just like, a dude named Steve. Say I hear it through the grapevine that Steve fucking croaked. Am I going to be happy about this? No. Know why? Because I’m a decent human being and my first reaction is to be sad when any human being dies and also, I’m grateful to Steve for believing in me enough to help finance my dream of home ownership. Steve didn’t have to loan me all that money, but he did. He thought I was a bet worth making. And you know how I’d feel if I was late with a payment? Sad. Ashamed I let Steve down. I’d go out and bus tables, take extra work, shine shoes, collect tin cans, suck a hobo dick, do whatever it takes to get Steve’s money back to him on time so he doesn’t think less of me because after all, it touched my heart that he thought enough of me to loan me all that money in the first place.

You know who else believed in people, all over all of Old London Town? One Ebenezer Scrooge. That’s who. Even though his fiance dumped his ass for the high crime of being an overachiever, he still didn’t lose faith in humanity. People come to him looking for him to finance their dreams and he did. They were all too happy and eager to take the money but when it’s time to pay back the money? Oh no. Now they act like they’re doing Scrooge a favor. They act like they’re doing Scrooge a solid for giving him what already belongs to him according to a pre-approved time table that they agreed to. You know who made it possible for you to have a roof over your head and a place to sleep and raise a family? Ebenezer Scrooge, so maybe instead of cheering his death because you were too fucking lazy to get off your ass and earn the next mortgage payment, maybe go to his funeral and pay your respects and give him one last thank you for believing your stupid sorry ass and then go suck a dick…ten, no twenty dicks. Suck as many dicks as you need until you have enough money to pay your next mortgage payment to Scrooge’s estate…ON TIME.

#7 – Scrooge’s Housekeeper Should Go to Jail

Here’s another dumbass that Scrooge believed in. Gave her a job. Gave her a purpose, gainful employment, paid her a wage. Trusted her to come into his house and how does she repay him? Stealing all his shit the second his old ass dies. The Ghost of Christmas Future shows Scrooge this scene on the premise that Scrooge is such a crusty old jerkwad that even his housekeeper has no love for him and sees his death not as a reason to mourn but as one last chance to line her pockets with Scrooge’s belongings.

Pardon my language but…FUCK…THAT…BITCH. Oh, what? Like she was on her way to Vasser to become the first female Prime Minister of England before Scrooge enticed her into a lifetime of being paid to keep a mansion clean? Yeah, no. She was no doubt giving handies next to the Thames two at a time before Scrooge and will have to go back to that life after Scrooge. There are way too many people in this world who resent the shit out of their employers rather than thank them for giving them the job that keep s the lights on, the heat on, the roof over their head, and the hobo’s dick out of their ungrateful mouths. I

Seriously, if this woman had an ounce of loyalty in her wretched heart, she’d weep for her boss and then put in one last day making sure the mansion is nice and clean for whoever inherits it, which we can only assume will be Fred and ….aw, fuck Fred!

#8 – No Solicitors

Remember those charity collecting do-gooders who harass Scrooge for a handout in the beginning, looking to help the poor? And Scrooge’s response is to ask if the prisons and workhouses have been shut? And then the collectors say people would rather die than go there and Scrooge says let them and reduce the surplus population?

Look, I can’t condone Scrooge’s Thanos-like argument, but keep in mind, in Old England, prison was like the government’s only social program and the workhouse was the equivalent of getting a first job at McDonalds. So, translated today, Scrooge is telling these do-gooders to tell the poor to go get some food stamps (that his tax dollars already paid for) and go get some entry level employee training at Burger King and leave him alone because this rich ass dude is already doing his part to keep London clothed and fed. He’s giving everyone the loans they need to keep a roof over their head and you want him to buy everyone a Christmas goose too? Fuck that.

#9 – Marley Was a Cuck

Look, I don’t care how many chains and oversized novelty locks Scrooge’s old partner, Marley, is required to carry around in the afterlife. Marley did nothing wrong and he is being falsely persecuted. Marley taught Scrooge everything he knows about usurious money lending and the gold coin counting trade and he shouldn’t be ashamed of it, no matter what those other hippy ghosts say.

You know who was loyal? Scrooge. He was the only one who showed up to Marley’s funeral and he never changed the name of his counting house. Never painted over the Marley and Scrooge sign. Loved the man too much and why not? Because he taught him how to get rich AF. Don’t be like Marley. Don’t apologize for being rich AF.

#10 – God Bless Us, Everyone

So in the end, the best thing about being rich is you can intervene in the lives of poor people. You, as a rich fucker, might see someone having a rough go of it and you might think, “This reminds me of that time I had a rough go of it and if only some rich fucker had intervened on my behalf…” and then you go and intervene on the downtrodden person’s behalf.

It’s awesome that Scrooge decides to take it upon himself to save Tiny Tim’s life by buying the Cratchit family a Christmas goose and then apparently taking on every single last medical bill that Tiny Tim’s leprosy ridden body requires.

But Scrooge should only do this because he wants to, not because he was guilted into it, and the entire time Bob Cratchit must be reminded that he is less of a man because his boss of all people had to intervene and pay for the sickliest Cratchit’s gamey limb treatments. Bob should feel like a pathetic, loserish pile of donkey dung and should immediately go out and get a second scrivener job. I mean, holy shit, this dude has so many kids that he needs to be scrivenering all day, night and weekends just to pay for them all. And you know what? Mrs. Cratchit should take in some laundry and some seamstress work and not gonna lie, both Mr and Mrs C should be sucking hobo dick on the sly for tuppence just to make ends meet.

Know who shouldn’t be guilted into paying for everything? Scrooge.

Know why?

Because Scrooge didn’t hit that pussy.

Case closed.

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