Comic Geek Speak presents A Christmas Carol, A Ghost Story of Christmas by Charles Dickens.

Stave five, the end of it.

Yes, and the bedpost was his own. The bed was his own, the room was his own. The room was his own. Best and happiest of all, the time before him was his own. The bed was his own. The room was his own. Best and happiest of all, the time

before him was his own to make amends in. I will live in the past, the present, and the future.

Scrooge repeated as he scrambled out of bed, the spirits of all three shall strive within me.

Oh, Jacob, Marley! Heaven and the Christmas time be praised for this.

"'I say it on my knees, oh, Jacob, on my knees!'

"'He was so fluttered and so glowing with his good intentions

"'that his broken voice would scarcely answer to his call.

"'He had been sobbing violently in his conflict with the spirit,

and his face was wet with tears. "'They are not torn down,' cried Scrooge, folding one of his bed

curtains in his arms. "'They are not torn down, rings and all. They are here. I am here. The

shadows of the things that would have been may be dispelled. They will be. I know they will.'

His hands were busy with his garments all this time, turning them inside out, putting them on upside down, tearing them, mislaying them, making them parties to every kind of extravagance.

"'I don't know what to do,' cried Scrooge, laughing and crying in the same breath,

"'and making a perfect Leiaquan out of himself with his stockings.

"'I am as light as a feather. I am as happy as an angel.

"'I am as merry as a schoolboy.

"'I am as giddy as a drunken man.

"'A Merry Christmas to everybody! "' A happy New Year to all the world!

Hello here! Whoop! Hello!

He had frisked into the sitting room and was now standing there, perfectly winded.

...