Prologue: A quick word with the author

Hello. My names Tom or Thomas or Tommy or Tommy T. I'm a writer and the author of this novella you are about to attempt to read. Some of you may have read my previous work and so have an idea of what you are letting yourself in for. Some of you may have been recommended it by a friend or merely seen it on some website on which it has been published. No matter how you have found it I feel it is my duty to warn you about what you are about to experience.

I was tasked with writing something fun for Christmas. Something that really hits home what the holiday season is all about and will fill all the readers with festive joy. Clearly the people who tasked me with this had never read any of my work before. I sat at my computer and proceeded to write chapter after chapter of violence, swearing, sex, drugs and Muppets. As always I gave each chapter a quick re-read and spell check and then refused to change any of it. It might make the book come across as being a bit erratic and rushed but then that's half of the fun in my opinion.

While the following may not be to everyones taste I am confident that at least some of you will find at least some of it slightly funny. If not you can just stop reading it's as simple as that. No-one is forcing you and if they are then I do not condone it. Stand up for yourself and stop reading this garbage. Anyway, onwards and upwards. I present my version of A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. With a bit of X Factor and Serial killing thrown in for good measure.
Just remember; No matter what, It's got to be better than 50 Shades of Grey hasn't it?


Merry Christmas


Tom Eydmann
December 2012

P.S This book was written in IMAX 3D. Put on your 3D glasses now.

 

Follow Tom Eydmann on Twitterhttps://twitter.com/#!/DrTommyT25

And on FaceBookhttp://www.facebook.com/#!/AmateurWriterProfessionalIdiot



Chapter 1

'Bob Marley is dead to begin with'.
'That's fine Edward. Now lets roll straight on with the next one.'

Eddie sat back in his chair and looked down at the next one on his list. He sighed when he saw he was only 23 through a list of 173 and each line had taken at least 3 takes. He had gone through the phrases to insult the elderly wannabes with less teeth than toes and was now onto the reggae acts who all thought they were the new Shaggy and the last thing this planet needed was a new Shaggy; we didn't really want the old one. Of course none of the acts were actually in front of him. It was far to dangerous to allow himself to be in the presence of such emotionally unbalanced scum. Not since the incident two years ago when a group of ex employees had disguised themselves as boyband 5Factor and started hurling rotten eggs and vegetables at him and his fellow judges. No it was far safer now for him to prerecord the insults he hurled at people week after week and let the editing boys to their jobs.

'Next line please Edward?' The floor manager was getting impatient which Eddie thought was laughable as he paid her wages. He made a mental note to fire her that afternoon and looked down at the next witticism on his list.
'You're about as hip-hop as Iggle Piggle from In The Nightgarden.'
Fuck this he thought and threw the clipboard on the floor before telling everyone to go for lunch and making another mental note to fire the team who wrote his insults as well.

Bobbi ran up to him as he was being unmic'd. As always she had her hair done up in a bun and was wearing a headset shouting abuse at strangers. Bobbi was his PA. Whilst most rich businessmen would have some blonde in her late teens run around grabbing their lattes Eddie much preferred Bobbi. She was a single mum of four in her late twenties and thus had more experience of shouting orders and dealing with whining babies than most. Also as a single mum she was glad of whatever meagre salary Eddie decided to pay her (and it was meagre) and never complained or asked for a bonus.
'Do you want to hear your itinerary for the rest of the day Eddie?'
'How many times do I have to tell you Miss Cratchet. between 8AM and 6PM my name is not Eddie'.
'Sorry Mr Scrooge. Do you want to hear what you're doing for lunch and onwards?'
Eddie got up. 'Let's walk and talk. Grab me a hot chocolate will you, with marsh mellows. I hate this time of year it's fucking freezing.' Within seconds a steaming cup of cocoa arrived and Eddie made his way to the limo with Bobbi bleating into his ear.

'So you've got Christmas lunch with your sister at 14:00'
'Change it to just a mince pie and glass of wine, I haven't got time for lunch.'
'OK' Bobbi shouted something into her headset. 'Then you're going to visit your Uncles grave at 16:00.'
'No time. I'll do it tomorrow or Boxing Day.'
'But it's Christmas eve Mr Scrooge; the anniversary of his death. Your mother will be there'.
'All the more reason for me not to bother going. I'm going to have to see the boring woman for the next 2 days anyway I'm not going to waste anymore time on her'. Eddie was getting tired. 'Get to the important stuff. How's the liquidation coming along?'
'Fine Sir.'
'Fine isn't good enough Miss Cratchet I want figures. How many stores do we have closing down today?'
'Err none sir. The board decided...' He turned on her
'THE BOARD DECIDED DID THEY! NEED I REMIND THE BOARD WHO PAYS THEIR FUCKING SALARY!' She seemed to wither at the sound of his voice. People in the street stopped and turned to look at this 6ft2" man thundering into the face of a terrified woman almost a foot shorter than him. She swallowed and regained her composure.
'With respect sir the board thought if you closed stores over the Christmas period it would lower your public image. It would probably cost you more money than you would save'.
'Bah fucking humbug.' Tell them we shall close 3 times the amount on the 27th to make up for it and balls to my public image'. They arrived at the limo and the valet opened the door for Eddie. He turned to look at Bobbi.
'What time will you be starting tomorrow Miss Cratchet?' She looked as if she had seen a ghost.
'Err it's Christmas tomorrow sir, I shall be with my children.'
'Fine, take the morning off. I'll take it out of your wages and see you at 16:00.' He paused for a second. 'How are your children anyway? How's the sickly one? Better yet? What is it he had? Measles?
'Cystic Fibrosis Mr Scrooge. And no, Tim isn't better'. Eddie coughed awkwardly and changed the subject.
'Can you make your own way home please Miss Cratchet I want to get laid before lunch.' He called to the chauffeur. 'Fred? get me a woman please.' The man nodded dutifully and got on his phone. Without saying goodbye Eddie got into the car, poured himself a brandy and wound up the window as Bobbi walked off into the cold snow.

Chapter 2

The empty clip fell out of the glock just like it did in the films and for a second Graham felt like he was in a James Bond movie. He slowly got out of his chair and went across to look in the mirror. Miraculously he didn't have a spot of blood on him. His black hair was slightly skew-whiff and his tie was loose but he looked the picture of professionality. He suddenly became aware of the whimpering coming from the corner of the room and thought the fucker might still be alive. Straightening his salmon tie and running his fingers through his sweat drenched barnet he made his way over to Mr Simonds desk. The old bastard was hunched over his own name plate; one hand still on the intercom trying to buzz security. Graham lifted his head. the bullet hole was still there. Actually 'hole' was an understatement. At the range Graham had blasted him it was more of a crater. You could have dropped your iphone through his forehead now and it would hit the back of the leather chair he was slouched on. There was no way an injury like this would leave anyone whimpering yet Graham could still hear it so he put his ear to Mr Simonds mouth. Nothing. No words, no noises, no breath. Of course there wasn't. Three bullets to the chest and one in the forehead would have been enough to shut up Eddie Scrooge let alone the manager of a customer service department.
'Not saying anything are you Mr Simonds?' Graham whispered to the corpse. 'Should have given me the Christmas hamper I deserved last year'. he paused before daring an inuslt to his old boss. 'You Jerkoff.' Still nothing from Mr Simonds and yet the whimpering continued.

He realised that the noise was actually coming from the corner of the room. More specifically it was coming form Daryl in the corner of the room. Graham holstered the pistol.
'You can stop crying Daryl. You haven't done anything wrong and I'll be on my way soon enough.'
It didn't stop the blubbing.
'You k k killed him....You said you just wanted to play a prank on him for making you redundant.'
Graham laughed. 'Are you seriously telling me you can't see the funny side in this. Come on Daryl the guy was a wanker. You should be thanking me for this. Your next manager will probably be some big titted milf with a passion for IT support workers.'
The door opened and someone entered the room. They had their head down as they looked at some files in their hand.
'Sorry to barge in Mr Simonds but I did knock and you said you wanted the weekly reports as soo...' Graham didn't have time to think. he pulled the glock out and fired.
CLICK
He fired again
CLICK
Balls he thought. He hadn't put a new clip in. The man was beginning to look up and was about to see the sight of a man holding a gun, the corpse of his boss slumped over a desk and a bawling IT worker on the floor. Graham had to think fast. He flung his gun at the guys head with surprising accuracy. He fell to the floor shouting 'OWWW.'Graham ran over with Mr Simonds hole punch and started battering him over the head with it. He screamed in pain but the hole-punch and Grahams inferior strength were not a good combination and he remained alive. He removed the guys tie and saw to his pleasure that it was Henry from Accounts who was a total asshole. 'It's OK Daryl', he called over. It's just Henry from accounts. I'll strangle him quickly and be on my way!'

After he had finished strangling Henry Graham Inch headed out of the building. A few people passed him on his way and expressed their sorries and it's always the best ones about his forced redundancy. He smiled and said it was OK as he had plans. One girl gave him a kiss on the cheek and wished him luck. A few gave him their numbers and told him to text them if he ever wanted to meet for a drink and bitch about Mr Simonds. Graham thanked them all and made his way out of the front door of Scrooge & Marley Inc. SHIT! He was halfway down the main gangway entrance when he realised he had forgotten about about Mel. He was half tempted to leave without seeing her but he remembered her pretty blond hair and beautiful blue eyes and knew he couldn't. He turned on his heels and headed back in. Mel was the receptionist at S&M Inc and always had a kind word for Graham. He thought they might have actually something serious going on until he had summoned up the courage to ask her on a date and been informed that she was already seeing Henry from accounts. Initially devastated Graham had enlisted Daryl to hack into her email where he had discovered that she had only gone with Henry because he got paid more than Graham and had less of a receding hairline.
'Oh hey Graham'. she beamed as he approached her desk. 'I'm absolutely gutted about whats happened to you. It's a real shitter. You must meet me and Henry for drinks and see if he can't fix you up with something yeah?'

'Henrys a douche' Graham replied before shooting her twice in the chest. He made his way round the back of the desk and pulled her head back. He placed the gun under her chin. 'And I am not fucking receding. It's just the way it's cut'. He pulled the trigger. Part of her brain hit the ceiling fan.

'Are you supposed to be round there?' a middle aged fat woman complained as he made his way out, casually look back as he saw Mels body comically slide off the chair onto the wooden flooring. He made his way down to the car where a traffic warden was giving him a ticket. To be fair he had parked in the disabled bay as he thought he was only going to be a few minutes and wanted to make a quick getaway. It wasn't the traffic wardens fault, he was just doing his job. Graham Inch decided to do something nice for his fellow man and holstered his weapon. He strolled up to the car as the warden turned to him and shrugged. 'Sorry bud, just doing my job'.
'I know' said Graham smiling before pulling out his small axe and burying it in the wardens wrist. He thought it would cut the hand off straight away but it just got stuck as it buried into his bone. He tried to wrench it free but it was going nowhere and the warden kept trying to grab him. 'I'm sorry!' Graham shouted before getting in the car and speeding away. He felt bad for the warden and also for leaving the axe. But he knew today couldn't possibly run completely smoothly and he would have to improvise at some point. He put on the radio and Mariah Carey started belting out Christmas hits. Today was going to be a good day.

Chapter 3

Eddie was in a bad mood from the moment he got out of the limo. Fred had failed to get him a woman before he had to meet his sister for lunch. He hated meeting his sister. As much as he still loved her in the same way that you have to love everyone who shot out of your dads cock they were just so different. She embarrassed him as much as he was sure he embarrassed her. All those marches and protests she went on. The media would always highlight her just because they knew that she was his sister and it amused them that one of the most powerful people this side of the Atlantic had a sister who wouldn't even buy a Starbucks coffee. He knew that her friends probably spent their time mocking her themselves for having a brother who was in charge of nearly 20% of all television shown in this country and at least ran 50% of all the ratings.

The Star House was now the biggest show in the world. It had been exported to 35 different countries but the show in Britain was the most watched still. And it all came from the idea of a man who used to own a couple of record stores. The idea was simple. Take any normal reality singing show where people get voted off every week blah blah and put them all in a house living together. It was Big Brother meets The X Factor and the real genius was that when people were voted off one aspect of the show they had to stay on the other. So shite singers would have to spend weeks sitting in a house eating beans on toast whilst their more talented rivals went out clubbing with footballers and snorting heroin with children's TV presenters. It had been a ratings smash and the Christmas day special was always the highlight of the year as it was guaranteed at least 2 shags and a few nervous breakdowns. And yet every year Eddie had to go through the whole rigmarole of Xmas with his family and fiends. Did they not know it was the most hectic day in his schedule? Some people had no feelings for anyone except themselves.

As he entered the VIP lounge of Maurie's he was shown to his normal table by the Asian waiter whose name he always forgot. He grimaced when he saw that Susie had brought company. That ridiculous boyfriend of hers who went by a nickname like Table or Clingfilm or something that was supposed to represent how capitalism was ruining the world. And some girl with dreadlocks and her face pierced everywhere except the normal places where people pierce themselves. How she got into a classy establishment like Maurie's was anyones guess. Susie rose when she saw him approach.
'Edward hi! Merry Christmas!' She kissed him on each cheek. 'You remember Lantern don't you?'
'Of course.' Eddie failed to fake a smile and shook Lanterns hand. She's brought them here on purpose to embarrass me he realised. 'And who is this?' He nodded at dreadlocks. 'Chanderlier or Lampshade?'
'My name is Katy' dreadlocks said stonefaced. Excellent. I love a girl with no sense of humour. Eddie slumped down into the chair and ordered a whiskey. If Susie thought she could embarrass him by turning up with someone called Cabinet and the creature that Goths forgot them he too could play at that game. It was time to get drunk.

40 minutes later they were in the middle of a full blown argument about TV. Well to be fair Eddie had just sat there in a bottle of single malt whilst Susie, Katy and Tablecloth proceeded to complain about the state of society due to all the 'carcrash' telly that was being shown; thanks mainly of course to Marley and Scrooge Inc (Susie always referred to Edward last when saying the business name just to piss him off). Eddie had heard all of these arguments a thousand times and knew how to combat them. He just couldn't be arsed. He let them waffle on; accusing him of ruining Britain with his multi national business and most successful television show in the history of the BBC. Eddie sighed and tried to find a pretty girl at the bar to take his mind of it all. Unfortunately the most attractive girl in the room who wasn't his own sister happened to be with a rapper who Eddie was 90% sure carried a loaded weapon and who he was about to drop from his own label. He decided to shut these hippies up and make an early exit. He addressed Lantern.

'Tell me something Snowflake or whatever your name is. Do you eat McDonald's?'
'Of course I don't' Lantern replied. I wouldn't dream of eating the flesh of another animal, especially not one from a chain of fast food bastards who keep their chickens locked up in pens the size of shoeboxes.'
'Fair enough' Eddie could feel Susie looking at him wondering what he was up to. 'Now answer me this. If McDonald's stopped trading tomorrow. I mean shut down every drive-thru, every restaurant and freed all their cows and chickens. Do you think the world will start to eat salad and vegetables from that day on?'
'Well I...' Lantern began.
'Or do you in fact think that they will just go to Burger King, Pizza Hut or Wimpy instead?'
'What are you getting at Edward?' Suzie was becoming irritated.
'I'm simply saying that if I stopped making shows like Star House or shut down S&M Inc it wouldn't make the population watch documentaries, read more books and prefer foreign films. They'd just watch some inferior reality TV and you would just have someone different to be angry at.'

There was a pause. Dreadlocks spoke first. 'Can I ask you a question please Mr Scrooge?'
Eddie leaned forward. 'Only if I can ask you one in return Drea.... er Katy.' Katy smiled shyly before composing herself. 'Why do you think people watch your show?' Eddie smiled and winked at her.
'Simple. There are three reasons why people watch shows like The Star House

1. The kids stuck in basic shitty jobs like Starbucks and your hated McDonalds. Or the ones gigging at weddings and in pub toilets. They need to have that small chance that maybe one day they will get to go on The Star House and escape the humdrum  pain of their pointless existence. It's the reason why every year we have more and more entrants than ever.
2. The people in slightly better jobs who maybe could of been really successful but didn't. Possibly due to money or falling pregnant. But more often than not simply due to laziness. They need to see people they hate so they can slag them off and feel slightly better about their own miserably lives. They hate the toothless crones, dolled up sluts and perfect boy-dolls we have on the show. And yet they can't stop watching week after week.
3.  Lastly our biggest audience. The ones who watch it simply to fit in. To have that feeling of belonging to something. Over 70% of the population watch our show. That is one big fucking club to be in. Many people like having that in common with their fellow man. It makes them feel more normal having something to talk about during their coffee break at work.

Eddie leaned forward. 'Now it's time for my question to you Katy. She leaned into him with a cheeky grin on her face.
'And what would that be Mr Chief Executive?'
'Why does a pretty little thing like you dress and look like that when coming into a classy establishment like Maurie's? Have you no shame?'

Edward Scrooge left Maurie's 20 seconds later with a big smile on his face. He hurt from the slap but he was happy. He was even more happy when Fred opened the limo door to reveal 2 brunettes inside with a bottle of champagne.
'Where to Sir?' The obedient chauffeur asked.
'Please Fred, call me Mr Scrooge. Head to the cemetery. I've got a bit of time to kill. May as well go see Marleys grave'. Eddie sighed and leaned back as he heard his zip open and one of the girls poured Cava into his mouth. Life was good at the top.

Chapter 4

Hawk finished the rest of the flask and sucked in the cold air. He was standing outside the building about half an hour later than he should have been. To be honest he could have been on the crime scene an hour ago but he hated being around the forensics guys who all thought they were in CSI Miami and the armed response who thought they were in Heat. Nope far better to wait until the guys had their fun and called in the Dets. He pulled a bounty out of his pocket and skinned it. After devouring the two pieces of chocolate coated coconut in two bites he checked the wrapper and was delighted to find he had won a free bar. 'I love Christmas' Hawk said to himself before looking up to find the two young plain clothes coming out of the glass doors towards him. Like all young DIs they had grown ridiculous moustaches in an attempt to look slightly older to their contemporaries and also carried their gun under their jackets in a way that made it look like they might be carrying a bazooka down there.
'You coming in Detective Hawk?' The shorter black one asked.
'Please just call be John. Or better yet just call me DCI Hawk'
'Bit of a mess in there Guv' the tall, skinny white croaked. 'Total fucking bloodbath if I'm honest. What do you want us doing?'
John Hawk scanned the buildings layout. 'Well for calling me Guv you can go up one level and get me a free Bounty'. He pushed the chocolate wrapper into the DIs shirt leaving a nasty brown stain. 'You,' he clicked his fingers in the direction of the other one. 'You're with me. What's your name son?'
'DI Maxwell sir.'
'Sir, I like that. Right follow me and shut the fuck up. And you? Crockett. Try and fill this up from somewhere as well.' He flung the hip flask at the lanky DI skimming his brow before entering the building.

He saw and smelt the body straight away. It can only have been an hour or so but the place looked well cleaned by CSI London and he managed to get to the victim without having to answer any questions. She was laying down on the floor behind the reception desk. Hawk put on his glasses to get a better look at her. Maxwell gave him a funny look. 'Yes I know it's hilarious. My name is Hawk and I'm short-sighted. Unfortunately my mother didn't pick her surname and they were hardly likely to know I would join the force and end up looking like I'd invented a nickname for myself purely in order to look cool infront of snotty nosed, trigger happy plebs like you.' That shut him up. Hawk went back to examining the body. The face was pretty much blown off but she had a locket round her neck with a picture of herself and a guy in it. She was a pretty picture all right. All blonde hair and ocean blue eyes. What kind of asshole would plug a broad like this Hawk thought to himself.
'Where's the boyfriend?' He asked Maxwell.
'In the next room boss.' They made their way through gingerly and surveyed the scene in the nearby office. One stiff was collapsed on the floor with a tie round his neck and and the other lay slumped over the desk in the executive chair. Hawk went over and picked up the gold nameplate on the desk. ' 'Tobias Simonds' he read out loud before looking through the sizable hole in the mans head. 'Looks like we got ourselves a bit of an execution deal going on here Maxwell.' Has anyone checked the CCTV?'
'Yes Boss. It's pretty open and shut. Some dude who had just been layed off, Graham Inches. He walks into this office with a friend, a er Daryl Hitchens; we have him in custody now. So he walks in here and then leaves five minutes later. Walks straight out of the front door he does before stopping and coming back in to execute that tasty bitch at the desk.'
'Don't call the broad a bitch Maxwell she's dead. We sent SWAT over to his house?'
'On their way now boss.'
'Any other witness?'
'Just one. A traffic warden who was trying to give him a ticket. But he's in hospital at the moment.'
'Why whats the matter with him?'
'He's got a hand axe lodged in his arm.'
'Fair enough. Well it seems pretty open and shut. Let's go round and nick the fucker and we can all go home in time for mincepies and Christmas specials. And Maxwell, you might want to conceal that cannon your walking around with. Just coz you've got a small pecker no need to let the rest of us know. And Crockett, where's my fucking Bounty?'
'Yes boss. Sorry boss. It's here boss'

They left the crime scene and made their way back to the car. Maxwell stopped to take a picture on his camera phone of the three bodies. Hawk didn't try and stop him. He knew how the youngsters liked to wager on Christmas eve and unless another Det encountered a DRK (domestic rape and killing) then Maxwell was sure to win the pot for most gruesome Xmas murder. You couldn't deny the youngster his fun. He munched his bounty and sipped his liquor on the way to the car. He should be home in time for Vicar of Dibley but something was niggling him as he read through the notes on Graham Inches. Sure he had been made redundant and decided to kill his boss and chances are he had been masturbating over the receptionist for years now and decided to take her and her boyf into the next life as well. But why the warden? And why axe his hand rather than simply shoot him. It just seemed odd. They got in the car and Maxwell pulled off. Hawk wound down his window to throw out his Bounty wrapper before pausing and checking the inside.
'Fuck me I've won another free one! It's gonna be a good Christmas Maxwell. Step on it.'

Chapter 5

Eddie had always like cemeteries. It was one of the few places where he would never get bothered by the press. Many times in the past he had used this place to meet people when he didn't want to be photographed. It was here where he used to let people know that they were being dropped from the label. People were less likely to try and hit you in a cemetery and if they cried it just looked natural. Eddie decided to walk to uncle Jakes grave on his own. He instructed Fred to get rid of the girls and be back in ten minutes; he didn't want to hang around long incase his sister turned up.

It was a surprisingly sunny day considering the time of year. Of course it would be dark withing an hour and a half but for now Eddie felt calm. The calm before the Christmas special he thought to himself smiling. He was happy. He was top of a multi-billion. multi-national, multi-fucking everything company. He could do what he wanted, was one of the most famous men in the world and and was top of the ratings. Uncle Jake would have been proud of him he was sure. He reached Jakes grave quicker than expected. It really was a sight to behold. A huge marble tombstone with a fountain and a small plinth with a statue of the man himself. Underneath read one of his quotes 'Ours is not to question why. Ours is just to milk it dry.' Eddie smiled to himself as he looked at the tombstone.

Here lies Jacob Robert Marley. Businessman. 1951 - 2010
 

It was a tasteful headstone for a tasteful man Eddie thought. It had been Uncle Jake who first brought him into the company. Eddies father had left when he was a very young age. Whilst his sister was found crying at night about this Eddie was glad to see the back of the cold hearted bastard and found solace in his mothers brother. Back then of course 'Marley INC' consisted of 2 small record stores. One in Camden and one in Shoreditch. But after Eddie came on board he persuaded Uncle Jake to start managing bands and singers. When their first act 'Fiddlers Muff' hit number 1 with their debut single and album Eddie knew he had found his calling. Of course Fiddlers Muff had been dropped from S&M Inc years ago but that didn't stop them from going from strength to strength with subsequent acts. And finally Eddie hit upon his big idea. His Magnum Opus. The music show; and he hadn't looked back since.

He picked up a stick and flicked a used condom off the headstone. Probably left there by a pair of drugged up young lovers. 'Finally practising safe sex eh uncle?' He smiled to himself. Although he sort of missed Jake the last few years of his involvement with S&M Inc had been stressful to say the least. Jake couldn't get his head around why the TV show would be successful and so resented Eddie when it was. He also didn't really understand the concept of digital music and had blocked Eddie at every turn when he proposed shutting down the record stores to save costs. Eddie hoped if he had been here today he might of understood where he was heading what with CDs now being next to obsolete. But he wasn't here. He was 6 feet under and probably just a skeleton now. The result of a lifetime of substance abuse. Eddie sniffed the cold air and turned to go. He jumped when he saw the woman standing behind him. Huddled up in a black fur coat and clutching a bunch of flowers she looked older than he remembered. Sort of withered. 'Hello mother.'

She ignored him and went to the grave to place the flowers down. Eddie wondered who she had come with. Susan maybe. Or one of her faithful servants. His mother had never been short of friends as was made clear in her 'tell all' autobiography where she had made Eddie seem like a tightfisted bastard as apposed to the shrewd businessman that he liked to come across as in interviews. He saw two figures approach in the distance. Susie and Harold. Harold was Eddies mothers servant who he was pretty sure was sleeping with her as well. They had never got on and made no effort to pretend otherwise. Susie ignored him completely and instead went to put her arm around their mother before shepherding her back to their car. Harold made to go with them before looking back momentarily
'We'll see you after the show for lunch Edward. Good luck. I'm sure you'll make many viewers very happy.' It was a backhanded compliment. Harold had always despised the telly show for exploiting talented individuals. Not that Eddie gave a shit. He was minted and Harold was so feeble he reminded Eddie of an old flannel.

The encounter with his family had left him feeling a bit empty. But he could not get down. Tomorrow was the biggest day of the year for him and he needed to be on top of his game. He made his way back to the car and told Fred to head for home. He wanted a quiet evening. A small amount of weed and a boxset would be fine. He didn't want any company or Christmas cheer so he called Bobbi and cancelled all his appointments for the rest of the day. They included a visit to a soup kitchen but that was only for publicity rather than any desire to help out. He only ever stayed for half an hour so his photographers could get their official shots before heading into the local overpriced restaurants run by celebrity chefs and eating a free meal. Scrooge looked out of the window and sighed. A nice quiet evening. That's all I want.

Chapter 6

Graham Inch sat on the edge of the bed and looked at the items in front of him. Two pistols; a Glock and one which he wasn't too sure of but looked like it was from a John Woo film. A sawn off shotgun, his butterfly knife and a screwdriver. The screwdriver wasn't meant to be part of the arsenal but his axe was lodged in the arm of a traffic warden somewhere and he need a replacement. He covered up the sawn off and the Glock and put them in his shoulder bag. The rest of the weapons he concealed about his person and he made his way downstairs to the payphone. He only had a small amount of money left in the world as the rest had gone on purchasing the weapons and he knew it was not part of the plan but he wanted to hear their voices one more time. He put 60p in, took a deep breathe and dialled. The youngest picked up first.

'Hey baby it's daddy. How you doing?'
'Daddy is that...is that you?'
'Yes baby it's really me. How are you? Looking forward to tomorrow? Not long till Santa comes now baby'.
'Daddy you're not supposed to call here. I've been told not to talk...'
'I know baby but I couldn't go Christmas without talking to my baby girl now could I? Where are your brothers baby'?
'Danny is out with his friends.Tim's in bed upstairs. Should I go and get him? Should I call Mummy'?
'No Sweetie no need to disturb them. I just wanted to say Merry Christmas and...'
The line went dead. She must have heard them.

Graham left the phone box and sat on the wall outside. He lit a cigarette and started to sob. It was a bad idea to have phoned them. He had a job to do and he couldn't let his emotions get in the way of that. He wiped the tears out of his eyes and blinked until his vision unblurred. Two teenagers were stood in front of him.
'Give us a fag mate?'
'What? Oh yeah, sure.' He opened his packet and pulled out a cancer stick . When he looked up they were staring menacingly into his eyes.
'And your phone and your fucking wallet.'
'I'm sorry?'
'I said give us your phone and your wallet before we smash your face in.'
'But....your not even carrying a weapon? I'm not going to give you my wallet. I need it.'
'Did you hear us right you fucking cockstain. Hand them over now before we mess you up.'
'No thankyou gentlemen.' And with that Graham reached into his pocket pulled out a screwdriver and buried it deep into one of the teenagers eyes. The screams were even louder than the traffic wardens had been. It probably would have been quieter to use the gun. Graham got hastily up and ran away down the road. In his haste he realised he had left the tool in the teenagers head. Dammit! he thought to himself. He needed to stop leaving items embedded in people. He couldn't go back to the motel now. He was going to have to use his cellphone. There was only one number he could call. And they were going to be pissed off. They weren't supposed to have any contact until tomorrow after all. He paused before dialling the number but he knew he didn't have any choice.

'Hi it's me. I need somewhere to stay. The motel has been compromised. Can I come to yours please? Two hours? Perfect. I'm sure I can think of things to do.'
He hung up the phone and hailed down a taxi. He instructed it to take him into town and when the driver tried to overcharge him he stuck his butterfly knife into his chest.