*We open as the stage curtain rises again. We see the bedroom set again, but it's more festively decorated now. Slip rolls over to face the audience, his eyes open. He looks warily at the decorations.*

Voice: Come over here, and know me better, man!

Slip: *Gets out of bed and moves toward a yellow light* Who's there?

Butch: (When the yellow light subsides, we see a slightly out-of-breath Butch, wearing plush green and white robes and a wreath of holly in his gold hair, hurrying into a throne decorated with holly and ivy and surrounded by fake food) Come in, and know me better, man!

Slip: *Moves toward the throne* I do want to know you better. Who, or what, are you?

Butch: I'm the Ghost of Christmas Present! You've never seen the likes of me before?

Slip: Yes an' no. Are you gonna make me fly, too?

Butch: Nahh, flying just gives me a stomach-ache. Just touch my robe, and we'll walk out the door.

Slip: Now that's more my speed.

(Slip touches Butch's robe. There's a gold light, and the two walk through the door...and into what looks like the outdoor London street set. Everyone is milling around, enjoying themselves.)

Slip: What is this?

Butch: (Grins) It's Christmas morning! Haven't you ever seen Christmas morning in London? It's a lot of fun!

Slip: I usually sleep through it.

Butch: Why? Look around you! (He points out all of the people coming in and out of the shops, shaking hands, laughing, exchanging gifts, and talking to one another.) Everyone's having a great time.

Slip: *Folds his arms* Bah humbug. Why are we here, Spirit?

Butch: I want to show you a few places where Christmas is most keenly felt...and some people you know. (We hear a familiar voice) Now, who could this be?

(Chuck walks onstage with the little boy with the crutch that we saw earlier on his shoulder, beaming and enjoying himself. The "set" rolls out to become what looks like the Fezziwig's Tavern set with more cupboards and shelves and one long table.)

Slip: Bob Cratchit...

Butch: Why don't we see how their Christmas is going?

Slip: If we must...

(They head to the now-arrived set. Rachel, wearing a plain blue dress trimmed with ribbons, and Jane, in a similarly plain green dress, bring out covered dishes. Small children dance around them.)

Chuck: Hello, Emily! Children! We're home.

Rachel: Hello, dearest!

Jane: (She and Rachel gather around Chuck) Hello, Papa. How are you? How was Tiny Tim?

Chuck: I'm well. Tim here was wonderful. Weren't you, lad?

Tiny Tim: (Nods) Yes, Papa. I had a wonderful time at church, and then looking in all the shop windows!

Jane: (She helps Tim down) Why don't we see if the goose is ready yet?

Tim: Oh, yes! Mother makes the best goose! (They go slowly to the fireplace, where the other Cratchits wait for the goose to be done.)

Rachel: (Sighs) I wish we could do more for him. He's such a little dear.

Chuck: I'm just glad to have been able to bring him to church. He was so happy that everyone saw him there being a cripple, that it might be pleasant to remember on Christmas Day just who made lame beggars walk and blind men see... *Bows his head with a sigh; when he looks up again, his eyes are watery.*

Slip: *Turns to Butch with a frown* Tell me, spirit, what's wrong with that lad?

Butch: Lots of things. Mostly his legs. If these shadows remain unchanged... (shakes his head) ...I see an empty chair where that kid's sittin' now.

Slip: *His frown deepens* An empty chair...

Belinda: (An older girl runs over to Chuck and Rachel) Mother! Father! The goose is ready! Martha has our goose!

Chuck: Great. Family, let’s go enjoy our supper.

Slip: *As the family gathers around their table* Awfully small goose for a big family.

Tim: (As Jane brings in what is clearly a small, fake turkey) Oh, it's wonderful, Father!

(Butch just nods and watches the scene.)

Peter: (The oldest boy plops down next to his brother) Smells great, Pop!

Belinda: Oh, this will be the best Christmas ever!

Chuck: And for this feast, we have Mr. Scrooge to thank. *raises his glass* A toast to Mr. Scrooge.

Rachel: (Growls) Thank him for the feast? Hmph! Why should we thank him? He practically treats you like a slave! He pays you next to nothing! The founder of the feast, indeed!

Chuck: Please, Emily...

Rachel: He's a nasty, stubborn, obnoxious old jerk, and I wouldn't thank him for anything!

(Butch raises an eyebrow. Rachel must really be mad; that last part wasn't in the script.)

Chuck: *Mutters* Rachel, please!

Rachel: (Mutters to him) I wouldn't thank your brother any more than Scrooge. He's been treatin' you like dirt lately...and treatin' Sally worse.

*Slip eyes narrow as he frowns again.*

Chuck: *mutters; now he's frowning* He's just...confused.

Rachel: Confused, my rear. He's acting like a complete ass. It's Christmas, and he can't live and let live?

Chuck: I don't know what's wrong, okay? He won't even talk to me about it!

Rachel: I want you to talk to him after this act's over. (Out loud) Fine, Ch...uh, Bob. I'll drink to his health for your sake and the day's, not for his. A very merry Christmas to him. He'll be very healthy and happy, I have no doubt.

Chuck: *Raises his glass again* To Mr. Scrooge.

The Children: (Raise their glasses) To Mr. Scrooge.

Tim: You know, I don't think he's really so bad, underneath. Maybe what he needs are some nice people to make him happy.

Rachel: (Mutters) He has people around him all the time, and he's still a jerk.

Belinda: Father, could we play a game after dinner?

Peter: Maybe Charades!

Tim: I want to hear stories! Martha tells them so well!

Rachel: Why don't we get the pudding, and then we'll play Charades?

Chuck: Yes, that's an excellent idea.

Butch: (Puts a hand on Slip's shoulder as the set starts to roll away) Come on. We have a lot to see.

Slip: *Turns to Butch with a scowl* I've already seen a lot.

Butch: You'll like this next part. Wanna go to a party?

Slip: I ain't much of a partyer.

Butch: But this one has some familiar faces.

Slip: *Sighs* I s'pose I don't have much choice.

(Another set rolls off to the other side. This one reveals a familiar laugh. Sach is laughing at some joke from Scruno, as Cynthia helps Marsha decorate a Christmas tree. Several other people dance or chases each other under the mistletoe.)

Sach: Scruno, he called Christmas a humbug! I think he actually meant it, too!

Scruno: Knowin' him, I'm sure he did!

Cynthia: Oh, I think he's just horrible, Fred! He's so mean and stingy!

Sach: (Shakes his head) He wasn't always that way. I know Uncle Scrooge still has a heart in there somewhere, an' I'm gonna find it!

Cynthia: How much of a heart could he have if he turned down this wonderful party?

Scruno: The lady has a point, Fred.

Slip: An' I'd turn it down again.

Sach: Well, all he's doin' is hurtin' himself. (Sighs) I wish...I wish there was a way I could help him. I know he's a good guy. I can't help likin' him, no matter how grouchy he gets.

Slip: *Folds his arms* I ain't hurtin' myself.

Cynthia: You can't squeeze water from a stone. (She takes Sach's arm) Why don't we dance, honey? It'll get your mind off that old miser.

Sach: Sure! (He grabs Cynthia and waltzes her around the room in his own...unusual...fashion)

Slip: That guy still don't know how to dance.

Butch: He's learning.

Sach: (As the song winds down) Oh boy, that was fun, but I think I need a rest.

Marsha: Why don't we play a guessin' game?

Cynthia: Fred can go first! He always thinks of fun stuff to guess!

Sach: Ok. (Thinks) Let's see. (Grins) Ok, I thought of somethin'! Everyone guess.

Butch: Why don't we play, too?

Slip: Must we?

Cynthia: Is it found in the city?

Sach: Usually.

Marsha: Is it animal, vegetable, mineral, or somethin' else?

Sach: Oh, it's animal, all right.

Guest #1: Does it pull a cab?

Sach: He'd die first.

Cynthia: Is it a rat?

Sach: Well... (thinks for a minute, but then shakes his head) Nahh.

Scruno: Is it Scrooge?

Sach: (Laughs) How'dya know?

Cynthia: I think "rat" was the right guess.

Scruno: Yeah, but I was more specific.

Butch: (Grins and slaps Slip on the back) Wasn't that a great joke? Your nephew tells the best jokes!

Slip: Wonderful.

Butch: (Sighs) Come on. My time's growin' short.

(They head out...but the lights are dark, except for a few "street lamps," and there's nothing to see but the two of them.)

Slip: This is hardly endearin' me to these people.

Butch: Ok, Scrooge. I can see I ain't gettin' through to you. Maybe this guy will have an easier time. (The fog starts rolling in...lots of it.) Farewell, Scrooge... (Butch hurries offstage as the fog drifts past Slip)

Slip: Wait, spirit!

(But we only hear Butch's laughter as the curtain closes and the fog envelopes Slip completely.)

*Slip swats at the fog as he heads backstage.*

Chuck: Slip! (He corners his brother as he heads backstage) I really do need to talk to you.

Slip: *Sighs* Make it quick, I gotta get ready for the next scene.

Chuck: Slip...what can I say to make you realize how much we're worried about you?

Slip: Why?

Chuck: What do you mean, "why?" (He puts a hand on his shoulder) You're my brother. I've looked up to you all my life. And in all my life, I've never seen you this down and ready to throw in the towel.

Slip: *Glances at Chuck's hand on his shoulder* Maybe because I can't always be the tough one? Maybe I can't handle anythin' thrown at me. I just wanna get ready for the next scene--

Chuck: No, Slip. They'll wait. Maybe you can't always handle everything thrown at you alone...but that's where you have us. Me, Sach, Sally, the other guys. You can't keep people at an arm's length when you need them. Look at where that got Scrooge, and Jacob Marley.

Slip: *Sighs again, then reveals the ring in his open palm* I pissed off Sally earlier.

Chuck: Remember how Scrooge lost Belle? Do you want to lose Sally that way? You love her more than life itself.

Slip: I think I already did. *He closes his fingers around the ring, making a fist, then rolls his aching shoulder and winces.* I gotta get ready for the next scene...

Chuck: No, you don't. Slip, if you love her, if you really love her...make amends. Don't throw her away. Don't throw any of us away. We love you, even when you don't love yourself. Do you know how much Bobby and Butch and I look up to you? You're the big brother to all of us.

Slip: *Unusually soft tone* Do you know how difficult it is bein' that? Or to be the "Chief?" I'm still hurtin'. I haven't felt right up here *taps the side of his head* since that play last month. An' now the ring that's s'posed to be on Sally's finger is in my hand, gettin' tarnished by my sweaty palms cuz even I dunno what the hell's wrong wit' me.

Chuck: You know what? Those women are still gettin' to you. Even though we ain't seen them in a month, they're still there. You're lettin' them win.

Slip: I guess I am.

Chuck: Come on, Slip. You're a fighter. You can fight this. (Puts a hand on his shoulder) I know you can.

Slip: *Winces, rolling the other shoulder again* I just dunno what I'm fightin' against.

Chuck: Those women didn't just plant ideas in Butch's head, Slip. They planted them into yours, too.

Slip: *Nods* Chuck...I need help.

Chuck: We're all here for you, Slip. Sally, too. Tell her that.

Slip: Chuck, I pissed her off royally.

Chuck: She may be mad, but she still loves you. Talk to her.

Slip: An' if she won't listen...

Chuck: She will. Eventually. You know she can never stay mad at you for very long. (Grins) I can't, either.

Slip: I hope the others feel the same way. *Rolls his shoulder again; groans* Wish this thing would quit throbbin’.

Chuck: Do you need to get it wrapped again?

Slip: *Nods* Would ya gimme a hand wit' it?

Chuck: (Nods) Yeah. (He gently puts an arm around his brother's good shoulder, and the two head backstage as we fade out.)