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. . A Christmas Carol (Not, Not That One, A Different One):
By Paul Murphy (Yes, that one)
Ebengeezer Scrooge, a miser of no fixed underwear, is visited on Christmas Eve, by fifteen table-tennis-playing unicorns. Sadly, that takes place before the events in this book, which has him visited by the Ghosts of Past, Present and Yet-To-Be (the Ghost of Christmas Past-It not being up to it this year).
The Ghosts attempt to show Ebengeezer the error of his many ways, such as his 'charitable' enterprises - Seeing-Eye Wolverines for the Blind being but one; and let's not mention his cruel mistreatment of his employee/instruction, Bob Scratchett [oops, mentioned it]. Can mean Mister Scrooge be redeemed, or has his voucher date expired? Will he ever get over his first true love, the sweet and tender Belle Endd? What fearsome sights will the Ghosts show him, and will the stains ever come out? And will Tiny Tim learn the difference between a crutch and a crotch, before he gets in really serious trouble? There's only one way to find out........dot....... buy this and read it!
Just listen to this glowing testimonial (you'll need to get someone to read it out for you to do so) - "Another book by PaulMurphy" - Paul Murphy, The Paul Murphy Review, 10 June 1835-ish.
- - -
What's that? You want a free sample? Oh, okay, then, since you thought it so nicely.........dot......
....There was a rustling of the curtains. The candles blew out. The door slammed shut. "Curse that curry," moaned Scrooge, and lifted the blanket to make an escape hatch, workhouse side. He re-lit a candle, and suddenly he froze in terror - he'd remembered how much candles cost. Suddenly he froze in terror again - he'd started to like it by now. But just as he was about to settle down again for the night, promising himself a quick freeze in terror in the morning if he woke up in the mood, he froze in terror yet again, and this time without the fun of the second time. There, in the corner of the room was ... a right angle. And standing in front of that right angle was an apparition of ghastly spectral horror! "Who... who... who are you!?" stammered Scrooge, with clenched teeth and commensurate buttocks. "Ebengeezer Scrooge..." "No, that's who I am." "Let me finish, will you! Blimey. If I'd picked a different straw I'd be round Lily Langtree's boudoir now, showing her what is going to become of her next Christmas, and on how many different bits of furniture. Now, as I was ghouling, Ebengeezer Scrooge, I am the ghost of Christmas past!" "You're the ghost of Chris's ass? Chris who?" "No - I am the ghost of Chr-ist-mas Pa-st. Do I have to spell it out for you?" "Only if you want Scratchett to write it down. [He's dyslexic, see]. What do you want from me, spirit? And would you settle for a candle, like new, no box." "'Like new'? There's just a wick left!" "Sorry, no refunds. See yourself out, will you." "No, I won't! I happen to be here for a reason." "You're a Ghost-A-Gram, and someone's got the date of my birthday wrong?" "No." "You're a travelling salesman from Orphans R Us?" "No!" "You're a mobile colonic irrigation service?" "No!!" 'Try telling that to my sheets, ' thought Scrooge. "I am here, Ebengeezer Scrooge, to show you the error of your ways." "Couldn't you have done it by post?" "No. It has to be done in person." "Well I've got a large letterbox."
....
That's your lot, if you want the other 65000-off words you'll have to buy a copy.