“I am the Ghost of Christmas Past!” announced the spirit standing before Scrooge’s bed.
“Yes,” said Scrooge, sitting up. “An old associate of mine—a Jacob Marley—warned me there was something strange in my neighbourhood.”
“Rise,” demanded the spirit, “and walk with me.”
“Oh no,” said Scrooge, sniggering. “This is something weird, and it don’t look good!”
The spirit couldn’t help but be a little unsettled by Scrooge’s look of mock horror. “I feel like you’re quoting something, but I’m not sure what it is. Also, don’t you think you should be a little more concerned about my visit?”
“Why?” asked Scrooge, resisting the urge to burst out laughing. “I ain’t afraid of no ghosts!”
“What?” Suddenly, realisation dawned. “No,” breathed the spirit. “Oh, no!”
Just at that moment, Bill Murray burst out of the wardrobe and zapped the Ghost of Christmas Past with his ghost-busting proton beam.
“Thanks, Bill,” said Scrooge. “Same time tomorrow night?”