A Christmas Carol, Story Thing
Disclaimer:
This story is based on actual and true fictional events and in no way is affiliated with “A Christmas Carol” or any other legally bound and copyrighted movie, book, or play, so please don’t sue me, as I don’t have any money anyway. Thank you
Chapter 1: Sped is dead
Sped was dead, to begin with. There is no doubt what so ever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Mr. Cheese signed it. And Mr. Cheese’s name was good upon ‘Change for anything he chose to put his hand to’. Old Sped was as dead as a doornail.
The mention of Sped’s funeral brings me back to the point I started from. There is no doubt that Sped was dead. This must be understood, or nothing wonderful can come of the story I am going to relate. Mr. Cheese never discarded Sped’s name plate. There it stood atop his desk. “Mr. Sped” as it has always been. They were at each others throats for years, and now, Sped was dead.
Mr. Cheese was a bitter man, hateful at times, an all around computer administration Asshole. His bitter heart within had wrinkled his face, humped his back and forever burrowed his eye brows into a low evil frown.
The thick cloud of an aurora surrounding him as he strode down the halls, his long black coat trailing behind him, gave him a sinister look that no man dared to disturb. Plants would wither as he walked past them, people would cower, and small animals would wince in pain as he stared deep into their eyes. No one ever asked, “Mr. Cheese, how are you today?” or “Say old chap, what time is it?” they new the withered old man would not respond but rather berate them on the spot.
But what did Mr. Cheese care? It was the very life he lived and loved. To scowl his way through town past the busy lives of everyone else. This is why most people who knew him called him “insane”. So begins our story.
Once upon a time……….
It was Saturday, Christmas Eve, and Mr. Cheese sat in his chair at his desk inside the old center. It was bitter cold outside, and the glass on the windows had all frosted up. Down below, Mr. Cheese could here the people getting into their cars to rush home for the holiday season.
“A merry Christmas to you Mr. Cheese!” yelled a cheerful voice from across the room. It was one of Mr. Cheese’s students.
Startled from not seeing the student enter he swung his chair around from the window to see who it was “Blah!” said Mr. Cheese “Heisenbug!” (Not to be confused with Bah Humbug mind you……..long story a lot of legal issues…….anyway.)
The student had bustled his way across the parking lot and into the building to take a final exam this merry day. His cheeks still rosy from the cold outside, his face a glow from the holiday cheer, his eyes twinkling in the light like stars on freshly fallen snow…….or maybe it was just the paint fumes from the office being repainted that morning. Either way Mr. Cheese was to have nothing to do with any of it.
“Heisenbug? why surely you don’t feel that way on such a beautiful and joyous day.” Said the student
“I do” said Mr. Cheese “What right do you have to be merry? Your test scores are low, your study habits are in the toilet, and worst of all…..you’re ugly!”
“Come on now” piped the student “What possible reason do you have for being so crabby?”
“It’s Saturday, Christmas Eve and I’m stuck here with you, that’s reason enough I should say.” Replied Mr. Cheese
“Is that so?”
Not wanting to continue the conversation any longer Mr. Cheese simply replied with “Blah!” shortly followed by “Heisenbug!”
“But Mr. Cheese”
“Blah I say, you celebrate your beloved Christmas in your own way, and let me be with mine.”
“I feel sorry for you Mr. Cheese, never having the love that everyone else shares during this festive season.”
“Another peep out of you and I’ll fail your entire course.”
“Fine, have it your way, I’ll do better studying at home surrounded by my loved ones anyway.”
“Blah” replied Mr. Cheese
As the student left the center two more took his place.
“Ah, Mr. Cheese and Mr. Sped.”
“Sped is dead!” said Mr. Cheese “died one year ago this very night!”
“Oh,…..I see” said the new visitor “I guess I didn’t notice.”
“Yeah no one really noticed him while he was alive either.”
“Well, the reason I came in was to ask for an extension on my current training.” The student asked with hesitation in fear of what the response might be.
Mr. Cheese furrowed his brow at the word “Extension”.
“You people are always looking for handouts, looking for the easy route out. ‘I can’t finish my studies in time, extend my training’, is the school in the local mall all filled up?”
“Why no, it is not.”
“And are all the trade schools closed?”
“No sir, they to are not.”
“Well might I suggest you take up a course at one of those less then fine academic academies where they might better suit your ‘extension’ needs, otherwise be gone with you, you’ll get no extension from me.”
“But my wife was ill, and……”
“Then you should have filled out the proper forms to put your studies on hold.”
The man said not a word, only stared down at Mr. Cheese who never once even so much as raised his head to look back at him. “Now if you don’t mind, I ‘m rather busy and wish to be left alone.” Mr. Cheese went back to his feverish typing on his keyboard. –TAP-TAP-TAP-
Seeing that any rebuttal would only amount to the student being humiliated even more, he decided, to just leave the center. With his head hung low, he turned and walked away.
The center was slow for the rest of the day. Outside the night was closing in, and a low, dense fog was slowly moving across the roads. The moon cast shadows onto the parking lot below, almost seeming to dance between the clouds as they pass by overhead.
At last the hour was upon to shut down the center.
“Closing time, everyone leave.” Mr. Cheese announced. As he glanced around the center he noticed one of the more loyal students. “And I suppose you’ll want the center to be open tomorrow as well?” He asked the student sitting in his usual spot over in the corner who he called Crotchrot (Not to be confused with Cratchit mind you, long story, a lot of legal issues………anyway). He came in every day to study, passed every exam, never asked any questions, and kept quietly to himself; for all intents and purposes he was a model student.
“It would be nice.” The lone student said.
“It would NOT be nice” said Mr. Cheese “and it’s not happening either.”
“But it’s just once a year!”
“That’s a crappy excuse for making me come in here every December 25th just to better your damn education.” Mr. Cheese said zipping up his coat and placing his cap upon his badly comb over balding head. “Well if it must be, then stay all the later next week to make up the hours.”
The student nodded in acknowledgment. Mr. Cheese stood passively by waiting for the student to gather his belongings. One by one he began to gather his things and place them in an old tattered leather bag. He pulled out some gloves that had looked as if the dog had used them for a chew toy for some years; he placed no hat upon his head this cold day, only a hood attached to a thin sweatshirt he was wearing. Mr. Cheese paid no attention to any of this, it was his belief that it was always the poor mans own fault for being poor and no one else’s……well that and the whole lack of money thing.
Outside, it was beginning to snow. Mr. Cheese stepped out of the door to the center and looked up at the newly fallen snow now speckling down on his face all the while mumbling something under his breath about ‘why’s it gotta be a white thing’ before shuffling off to his car for what would be a long drive through the snow.
Mr. Cheese arrived at his mansion hours later. A rusty old mobile home built some time in the early 60’s, wrapped from end to end in plastic in a useless attempt to contain any heat that might still be radiating from inside. The yard littered with old tires and debris that people have thrown in his yard for the last century using it as a dumping grounds for anything and everything. The moon that danced between the clouds earlier in the night was now completely blanketed by thick smog from the neighboring factories making his obstacle ridden yard almost impenetrable without light. Slowly Mr. Cheese groped his way along the mobile home, with each slip of his shoe he braced himself against the old steal beast which at one time was called a home. The trailer would moan like an old bear as Mr. Cheese’s body weight would slam into the side of it. Eventually he made it to the stairs where in, one by one he climbed until at the top. The air seemed cold and thick atop the stairs almost as if you could reach out and grab it with your bare hands. Out of breath and slouched over, Mr. Cheese reached for the screen door handle when out of the darkness came a ghostly dark figure casting a faint light. It was not dark like the shadows that were cast along the ground, but more of a freakishly grayish white emitting from all around the handle itself. He withdrew his fingers as if touching a hot pot, clutching them in his other hand. His jaw dropped, his eyes wide, not a single huff of breath came from his gaping mouth.
After several moments of staring at the ghostly figure emitting from his screen door handle he regained composure and clenched his eyes shut.
“There’s nothing there, NOTHING……go away I say……” He shouted into the night. After several seconds he opened his eyes, the figure was no more. Just as quickly as it had appeared, it had vanished without a trace. The air returning to its thin stale self told him it was nothing more then his tired eyes playing tricks on him.
“Blah!” followed shortly after by “Heisenbug!” came from his lips. It was his way of reassuring himself that what he saw was just his imagination.
He grabbed the door handle and entered his home, turning only slightly to take another glance out onto the porch almost half expecting to see something there. But instead all he saw were his fresh footprints in the snow of his staggering trip from the car to the front door. With that he slammed the door, turned on the first light he could find and proceeded to lock the 14 dead bolts that lay vertically along his door. Mr. Cheese was not a man easily scared by flashy lights and ghostly figures……internet connections going down, servers with viruses….well that’s a whole different story.
He proceeded to take of his over coat and shoes when a noise came from down the hall. As he turned to look, he thought for only a moment that he saw what looked like the hearse from the movie “Ghost Busters”. He waved it off without a second thought and continued throughout the house checking to make sure everything was in order. Standing in the kitchen he had a perfect advantage point of seeing the entire mobile home which measured a mere 10 feet wide by 50 feet long. He looked left……yep the far bedroom (10 feet away) was all in order, he looked to his right…….yep the bathroom was fine as well. With everything looking to be just as it should be he proceeded to his bedroom to change into his Sponge Bob Square Pants pajama’s, and retire to his computer for some late night pr0n surfing. The wind outside whirled and whistled through every crack of the mobile home, sending a shiver down Mr. Cheese’s spine. He grabbed his rob and sat at his desk. The computer was not even turned on, and yet the sounds of a failing hard drive could be heard through out the room.
He tilted his head from side to side trying to find where the noise was coming from, but before he could discover its origin, it was gone.
“Heisenbug!” said Mr. Cheese and continued on at powering up his PC. With a push of a button, the computer came to life buzzing and chirping as it booted up. The screen came to life with a brilliant light. Mr. Cheese strained and shielded his eyes against the bright light squinting only through his fingers to see what was happening on the screen. Before him on the display appeared the same ghostly figure in which he saw on his doorstep only moments ago. He slammed his eyelids shut once again, but this time the light seemed to pierce right through his feeble attempt to block it out and penetrate to the back of his skull.
“Cheese……..cheese…….CHEEEESSSSEEEE……” The figure shouted out
“Wha…….wah…….do I know you?” Mr. Cheese asked the figure now appearing on his screen. “Is…….is…..that you……Mr. Sped?” His voice quivered.
“Ah no, actually he couldn’t make it, said something about changing all the servers or some dumb shit like that down in Hell.”
“Hell?.....but I thought the center was hell.”
“Close, but no.”
“Well good luck with all that, I feel your pain.”
“Yeah, he’s already fucked up a ton of shit.”
“Can you…….can you…..take over my computer?”
“I can!” replied the figure
“Then do it!”
“You don’t believe me?”
“Not really.”
“Why would you need more proof then what you are seeing right before your eyes now as I speak to you?”
“I dunno……just because I guess.”
“Why do you doubt your own senses?”
“Because” stammered Mr. Cheese “ever have those really bad stomach cramps that you feel like you’re dieing, but instead you just had to fart really bad?”
“Oh yes…yes, yes, damn I hate those.” The ghost stayed his ground, his eyes never leaving that of Mr. Cheese.
“This is why I doubt!” said Mr. Cheese “See that power button on the computer?”
“I do” said the figure
“Well all I have to do is push it in for 5 seconds, give or take a second or two of course….”
“Of course”
“And your gone……”
With that the figure let out a huge roar, playing the scratched CD’s which hung from him like chains, with terrible songs. The sound was deafening, Mr. Cheese cupped his hands over his ears and shivered in fear from the noise now surrounding him as if in 5.1 stereo surround sound. Not those cheap speakers either that you get from the bargain bin at the local electronics store, but the big ones that the kid down the street with no balls plays every night at 3 am to crappy rap music.
Mr. Cheese dropped to the ground “Please…..please, I beg of you make it stop, why do you torture me with the sounds of Tiny Tim played at 78 speed?”
“Because you doubt me!” the figure said
“Yeah, ya got me there bud, but why do ghosts haunt me through my computer…..tell me oh please.”
“Hey, it’s the 21st century, high speed internet, we can get around a lot faster traveling the super highway then we ever could just floating around.” Replied the figure
“True, true, but still why do you bother me?”
“Dunno, bored I guess, oh that and the fact that your on a fast track to dooming your soul in this life. If you keep this up, you’ll be forced to spend eternity wandering the earth moaning and groaning to scare people into changing their own lives for the better.” Again the figure lifted his scratched CD’s and began to play horrible music this time from Yani. The figure then floated out of his computer screen and stood next to Mr. Cheese.
“You are angry with me” pleaded Mr. Cheese “tell me why oh ghostly figure?”
“The CD’s I wear around my body were forged throughout my life as an evil administrator.” Replied the ghost “I made it, CD, by CD, threaded with CAT5 cabling foot by foot.”
Mr. Cheese trembled in fear at this site.
“You know not the threaded scratched CD’s of country music you bear on your own soul right now.”
Mr. Cheese looked around at the floor around him trying to see any CD’s hanging from himself. “Dude……I don’t see any CD’s”
“Well…..no not now you dumbass, their in your soul.”
“Well hello, how the fuck was I supposed to know Mr. Ghost man?”
“Well…..whatever, you got them, you just can’t see them right now….ok!”
“Is this supposed to give me comfort?”
“I bring you no comfort, I only come to you now to show you that the life you are leading as an asshole computer guy will some day lead to the same demise that in which I am in.”
“Hmmmm…..doesn’t seem all that bad, you get to surf the net and stuff right?”
“NO……and all our systems are running on Windows ME.”
“NOOOO!!!! Oh say it isn’t so spirit, say it isn’t true. Tell me oh great one….tell me what to do so I can avoid this tragedy onto mankind.”
“Listen to me” hollered the ghost “and listen good, as my time is almost up.”
“Your time is almost up? But you’re a spirit!”
“Yeah, but TNT has ‘A Christmas Story’ on in an hour, and I don’t want to miss it. It’s kind of a tradition among us ghouls.”
“Ummmm…..you do know that it will be on again, and again, and……..”
“Enough” the spirit demanded “How I sit beside you today in this form I do not know. Many a nights I have sat beside you in this house without form…... without shape.”
“Many?”
“MANY”
“So you saw the….”
“Yes I did, now let’s never speak of that again. Now let us continue, you will be haunted” resumed the ghost “by three spirits tonight.”
“Just three?”
“Yeah I think so………I’ll have to check the schedule and get back to you.”
“Is this my chance to change my life and not listen to John Tesh through out eternity?”
“It is!” replied the spirit
“Then I think I’ll pass, Myth Busters marathon is on Discovery tonight.”
“Without the help of the spirits, you will travel the same path in the after life as I one hundred times greater.” The ghost demanded “Expect the first one to arrive tonight when the digital clock flashes 1:00am”
“Can’t they just all come at once so I can get it over with?” Mr. Cheese suggested
“Like an orgy? Dude that’s pretty sick.”
“No, I didn’t mean……..well maybe…..oh never mind.”
“Expect the second to arrive some time tomorrow.”
“Well what time tomorrow?”
“I dunno, he said something about dropping Casper off at day care or something.”
Replied the ghost “And expect the last one to arrive at the stroke….”
“HA, HA you said stroke.”
“SILENCE, YOU FOOL!!!!” the ghost was not amused “Expect the last one at midnight the third night.”
The spirit then turned dragging his horrible CD’s behind him and entered the computer screen once more. As he faded away like an old screensaver he turned once more to look at Mr. Cheese “Do not forget what I have told you tonight Mr. Cheese…….do not forget.” His voice could be heard trailing off into the distance as he faded into the darkness.
Mr. Cheese walked over to the computer and peered behind it looking for any signs of the ghost almost as if to still doubt what he had just witnessed. He could hear the whine of the fan as it cooled off the inner components. He leaned in closer with his ear…..closer….closer……
“BOO!!!!!!!!!” the ghostly figure popped its ugly head out of the rear vent of the computer case sending Mr. Cheese flying backwards against the wall, his robe up over his head now.
“Holy shit man that’s not funny.” Mr. Cheese said in a shaken voice
“Like hell it wasn’t, you should have seen your face man……..priceless. Just wanted to remind you to not forget…….” With that the ghost once again faded away into the computer. Mr. Cheese wasted no time springing to his feet and yanking the power cord from the back of the computer. He then disconnected all network cables not only coming into the computer, but also into the house.
“Super Highway that you bastard, I hope you get DDoS’ed by some script kiddies on your way back……..nOOb!!”
With the confidence that he could relax, Mr. Cheese headed down the hall and into his room to turn in for the night. One last time he looked behind him to make sure there was nothing there before closing his door and ducking under the covers.
This story is based on actual and true fictional events and in no way is affiliated with “A Christmas Carol” or any other legally bound and copyrighted movie, book, or play, so please don’t sue me, as I don’t have any money anyway. Thank you
Chapter 1: Sped is dead
Sped was dead, to begin with. There is no doubt what so ever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Mr. Cheese signed it. And Mr. Cheese’s name was good upon ‘Change for anything he chose to put his hand to’. Old Sped was as dead as a doornail.
The mention of Sped’s funeral brings me back to the point I started from. There is no doubt that Sped was dead. This must be understood, or nothing wonderful can come of the story I am going to relate. Mr. Cheese never discarded Sped’s name plate. There it stood atop his desk. “Mr. Sped” as it has always been. They were at each others throats for years, and now, Sped was dead.
Mr. Cheese was a bitter man, hateful at times, an all around computer administration Asshole. His bitter heart within had wrinkled his face, humped his back and forever burrowed his eye brows into a low evil frown.
The thick cloud of an aurora surrounding him as he strode down the halls, his long black coat trailing behind him, gave him a sinister look that no man dared to disturb. Plants would wither as he walked past them, people would cower, and small animals would wince in pain as he stared deep into their eyes. No one ever asked, “Mr. Cheese, how are you today?” or “Say old chap, what time is it?” they new the withered old man would not respond but rather berate them on the spot.
But what did Mr. Cheese care? It was the very life he lived and loved. To scowl his way through town past the busy lives of everyone else. This is why most people who knew him called him “insane”. So begins our story.
Once upon a time……….
It was Saturday, Christmas Eve, and Mr. Cheese sat in his chair at his desk inside the old center. It was bitter cold outside, and the glass on the windows had all frosted up. Down below, Mr. Cheese could here the people getting into their cars to rush home for the holiday season.
“A merry Christmas to you Mr. Cheese!” yelled a cheerful voice from across the room. It was one of Mr. Cheese’s students.
Startled from not seeing the student enter he swung his chair around from the window to see who it was “Blah!” said Mr. Cheese “Heisenbug!” (Not to be confused with Bah Humbug mind you……..long story a lot of legal issues…….anyway.)
The student had bustled his way across the parking lot and into the building to take a final exam this merry day. His cheeks still rosy from the cold outside, his face a glow from the holiday cheer, his eyes twinkling in the light like stars on freshly fallen snow…….or maybe it was just the paint fumes from the office being repainted that morning. Either way Mr. Cheese was to have nothing to do with any of it.
“Heisenbug? why surely you don’t feel that way on such a beautiful and joyous day.” Said the student
“I do” said Mr. Cheese “What right do you have to be merry? Your test scores are low, your study habits are in the toilet, and worst of all…..you’re ugly!”
“Come on now” piped the student “What possible reason do you have for being so crabby?”
“It’s Saturday, Christmas Eve and I’m stuck here with you, that’s reason enough I should say.” Replied Mr. Cheese
“Is that so?”
Not wanting to continue the conversation any longer Mr. Cheese simply replied with “Blah!” shortly followed by “Heisenbug!”
“But Mr. Cheese”
“Blah I say, you celebrate your beloved Christmas in your own way, and let me be with mine.”
“I feel sorry for you Mr. Cheese, never having the love that everyone else shares during this festive season.”
“Another peep out of you and I’ll fail your entire course.”
“Fine, have it your way, I’ll do better studying at home surrounded by my loved ones anyway.”
“Blah” replied Mr. Cheese
As the student left the center two more took his place.
“Ah, Mr. Cheese and Mr. Sped.”
“Sped is dead!” said Mr. Cheese “died one year ago this very night!”
“Oh,…..I see” said the new visitor “I guess I didn’t notice.”
“Yeah no one really noticed him while he was alive either.”
“Well, the reason I came in was to ask for an extension on my current training.” The student asked with hesitation in fear of what the response might be.
Mr. Cheese furrowed his brow at the word “Extension”.
“You people are always looking for handouts, looking for the easy route out. ‘I can’t finish my studies in time, extend my training’, is the school in the local mall all filled up?”
“Why no, it is not.”
“And are all the trade schools closed?”
“No sir, they to are not.”
“Well might I suggest you take up a course at one of those less then fine academic academies where they might better suit your ‘extension’ needs, otherwise be gone with you, you’ll get no extension from me.”
“But my wife was ill, and……”
“Then you should have filled out the proper forms to put your studies on hold.”
The man said not a word, only stared down at Mr. Cheese who never once even so much as raised his head to look back at him. “Now if you don’t mind, I ‘m rather busy and wish to be left alone.” Mr. Cheese went back to his feverish typing on his keyboard. –TAP-TAP-TAP-
Seeing that any rebuttal would only amount to the student being humiliated even more, he decided, to just leave the center. With his head hung low, he turned and walked away.
The center was slow for the rest of the day. Outside the night was closing in, and a low, dense fog was slowly moving across the roads. The moon cast shadows onto the parking lot below, almost seeming to dance between the clouds as they pass by overhead.
At last the hour was upon to shut down the center.
“Closing time, everyone leave.” Mr. Cheese announced. As he glanced around the center he noticed one of the more loyal students. “And I suppose you’ll want the center to be open tomorrow as well?” He asked the student sitting in his usual spot over in the corner who he called Crotchrot (Not to be confused with Cratchit mind you, long story, a lot of legal issues………anyway). He came in every day to study, passed every exam, never asked any questions, and kept quietly to himself; for all intents and purposes he was a model student.
“It would be nice.” The lone student said.
“It would NOT be nice” said Mr. Cheese “and it’s not happening either.”
“But it’s just once a year!”
“That’s a crappy excuse for making me come in here every December 25th just to better your damn education.” Mr. Cheese said zipping up his coat and placing his cap upon his badly comb over balding head. “Well if it must be, then stay all the later next week to make up the hours.”
The student nodded in acknowledgment. Mr. Cheese stood passively by waiting for the student to gather his belongings. One by one he began to gather his things and place them in an old tattered leather bag. He pulled out some gloves that had looked as if the dog had used them for a chew toy for some years; he placed no hat upon his head this cold day, only a hood attached to a thin sweatshirt he was wearing. Mr. Cheese paid no attention to any of this, it was his belief that it was always the poor mans own fault for being poor and no one else’s……well that and the whole lack of money thing.
Outside, it was beginning to snow. Mr. Cheese stepped out of the door to the center and looked up at the newly fallen snow now speckling down on his face all the while mumbling something under his breath about ‘why’s it gotta be a white thing’ before shuffling off to his car for what would be a long drive through the snow.
Mr. Cheese arrived at his mansion hours later. A rusty old mobile home built some time in the early 60’s, wrapped from end to end in plastic in a useless attempt to contain any heat that might still be radiating from inside. The yard littered with old tires and debris that people have thrown in his yard for the last century using it as a dumping grounds for anything and everything. The moon that danced between the clouds earlier in the night was now completely blanketed by thick smog from the neighboring factories making his obstacle ridden yard almost impenetrable without light. Slowly Mr. Cheese groped his way along the mobile home, with each slip of his shoe he braced himself against the old steal beast which at one time was called a home. The trailer would moan like an old bear as Mr. Cheese’s body weight would slam into the side of it. Eventually he made it to the stairs where in, one by one he climbed until at the top. The air seemed cold and thick atop the stairs almost as if you could reach out and grab it with your bare hands. Out of breath and slouched over, Mr. Cheese reached for the screen door handle when out of the darkness came a ghostly dark figure casting a faint light. It was not dark like the shadows that were cast along the ground, but more of a freakishly grayish white emitting from all around the handle itself. He withdrew his fingers as if touching a hot pot, clutching them in his other hand. His jaw dropped, his eyes wide, not a single huff of breath came from his gaping mouth.
After several moments of staring at the ghostly figure emitting from his screen door handle he regained composure and clenched his eyes shut.
“There’s nothing there, NOTHING……go away I say……” He shouted into the night. After several seconds he opened his eyes, the figure was no more. Just as quickly as it had appeared, it had vanished without a trace. The air returning to its thin stale self told him it was nothing more then his tired eyes playing tricks on him.
“Blah!” followed shortly after by “Heisenbug!” came from his lips. It was his way of reassuring himself that what he saw was just his imagination.
He grabbed the door handle and entered his home, turning only slightly to take another glance out onto the porch almost half expecting to see something there. But instead all he saw were his fresh footprints in the snow of his staggering trip from the car to the front door. With that he slammed the door, turned on the first light he could find and proceeded to lock the 14 dead bolts that lay vertically along his door. Mr. Cheese was not a man easily scared by flashy lights and ghostly figures……internet connections going down, servers with viruses….well that’s a whole different story.
He proceeded to take of his over coat and shoes when a noise came from down the hall. As he turned to look, he thought for only a moment that he saw what looked like the hearse from the movie “Ghost Busters”. He waved it off without a second thought and continued throughout the house checking to make sure everything was in order. Standing in the kitchen he had a perfect advantage point of seeing the entire mobile home which measured a mere 10 feet wide by 50 feet long. He looked left……yep the far bedroom (10 feet away) was all in order, he looked to his right…….yep the bathroom was fine as well. With everything looking to be just as it should be he proceeded to his bedroom to change into his Sponge Bob Square Pants pajama’s, and retire to his computer for some late night pr0n surfing. The wind outside whirled and whistled through every crack of the mobile home, sending a shiver down Mr. Cheese’s spine. He grabbed his rob and sat at his desk. The computer was not even turned on, and yet the sounds of a failing hard drive could be heard through out the room.
He tilted his head from side to side trying to find where the noise was coming from, but before he could discover its origin, it was gone.
“Heisenbug!” said Mr. Cheese and continued on at powering up his PC. With a push of a button, the computer came to life buzzing and chirping as it booted up. The screen came to life with a brilliant light. Mr. Cheese strained and shielded his eyes against the bright light squinting only through his fingers to see what was happening on the screen. Before him on the display appeared the same ghostly figure in which he saw on his doorstep only moments ago. He slammed his eyelids shut once again, but this time the light seemed to pierce right through his feeble attempt to block it out and penetrate to the back of his skull.
“Cheese……..cheese…….CHEEEESSSSEEEE……” The figure shouted out
“Wha…….wah…….do I know you?” Mr. Cheese asked the figure now appearing on his screen. “Is…….is…..that you……Mr. Sped?” His voice quivered.
“Ah no, actually he couldn’t make it, said something about changing all the servers or some dumb shit like that down in Hell.”
“Hell?.....but I thought the center was hell.”
“Close, but no.”
“Well good luck with all that, I feel your pain.”
“Yeah, he’s already fucked up a ton of shit.”
“Can you…….can you…..take over my computer?”
“I can!” replied the figure
“Then do it!”
“You don’t believe me?”
“Not really.”
“Why would you need more proof then what you are seeing right before your eyes now as I speak to you?”
“I dunno……just because I guess.”
“Why do you doubt your own senses?”
“Because” stammered Mr. Cheese “ever have those really bad stomach cramps that you feel like you’re dieing, but instead you just had to fart really bad?”
“Oh yes…yes, yes, damn I hate those.” The ghost stayed his ground, his eyes never leaving that of Mr. Cheese.
“This is why I doubt!” said Mr. Cheese “See that power button on the computer?”
“I do” said the figure
“Well all I have to do is push it in for 5 seconds, give or take a second or two of course….”
“Of course”
“And your gone……”
With that the figure let out a huge roar, playing the scratched CD’s which hung from him like chains, with terrible songs. The sound was deafening, Mr. Cheese cupped his hands over his ears and shivered in fear from the noise now surrounding him as if in 5.1 stereo surround sound. Not those cheap speakers either that you get from the bargain bin at the local electronics store, but the big ones that the kid down the street with no balls plays every night at 3 am to crappy rap music.
Mr. Cheese dropped to the ground “Please…..please, I beg of you make it stop, why do you torture me with the sounds of Tiny Tim played at 78 speed?”
“Because you doubt me!” the figure said
“Yeah, ya got me there bud, but why do ghosts haunt me through my computer…..tell me oh please.”
“Hey, it’s the 21st century, high speed internet, we can get around a lot faster traveling the super highway then we ever could just floating around.” Replied the figure
“True, true, but still why do you bother me?”
“Dunno, bored I guess, oh that and the fact that your on a fast track to dooming your soul in this life. If you keep this up, you’ll be forced to spend eternity wandering the earth moaning and groaning to scare people into changing their own lives for the better.” Again the figure lifted his scratched CD’s and began to play horrible music this time from Yani. The figure then floated out of his computer screen and stood next to Mr. Cheese.
“You are angry with me” pleaded Mr. Cheese “tell me why oh ghostly figure?”
“The CD’s I wear around my body were forged throughout my life as an evil administrator.” Replied the ghost “I made it, CD, by CD, threaded with CAT5 cabling foot by foot.”
Mr. Cheese trembled in fear at this site.
“You know not the threaded scratched CD’s of country music you bear on your own soul right now.”
Mr. Cheese looked around at the floor around him trying to see any CD’s hanging from himself. “Dude……I don’t see any CD’s”
“Well…..no not now you dumbass, their in your soul.”
“Well hello, how the fuck was I supposed to know Mr. Ghost man?”
“Well…..whatever, you got them, you just can’t see them right now….ok!”
“Is this supposed to give me comfort?”
“I bring you no comfort, I only come to you now to show you that the life you are leading as an asshole computer guy will some day lead to the same demise that in which I am in.”
“Hmmmm…..doesn’t seem all that bad, you get to surf the net and stuff right?”
“NO……and all our systems are running on Windows ME.”
“NOOOO!!!! Oh say it isn’t so spirit, say it isn’t true. Tell me oh great one….tell me what to do so I can avoid this tragedy onto mankind.”
“Listen to me” hollered the ghost “and listen good, as my time is almost up.”
“Your time is almost up? But you’re a spirit!”
“Yeah, but TNT has ‘A Christmas Story’ on in an hour, and I don’t want to miss it. It’s kind of a tradition among us ghouls.”
“Ummmm…..you do know that it will be on again, and again, and……..”
“Enough” the spirit demanded “How I sit beside you today in this form I do not know. Many a nights I have sat beside you in this house without form…... without shape.”
“Many?”
“MANY”
“So you saw the….”
“Yes I did, now let’s never speak of that again. Now let us continue, you will be haunted” resumed the ghost “by three spirits tonight.”
“Just three?”
“Yeah I think so………I’ll have to check the schedule and get back to you.”
“Is this my chance to change my life and not listen to John Tesh through out eternity?”
“It is!” replied the spirit
“Then I think I’ll pass, Myth Busters marathon is on Discovery tonight.”
“Without the help of the spirits, you will travel the same path in the after life as I one hundred times greater.” The ghost demanded “Expect the first one to arrive tonight when the digital clock flashes 1:00am”
“Can’t they just all come at once so I can get it over with?” Mr. Cheese suggested
“Like an orgy? Dude that’s pretty sick.”
“No, I didn’t mean……..well maybe…..oh never mind.”
“Expect the second to arrive some time tomorrow.”
“Well what time tomorrow?”
“I dunno, he said something about dropping Casper off at day care or something.”
Replied the ghost “And expect the last one to arrive at the stroke….”
“HA, HA you said stroke.”
“SILENCE, YOU FOOL!!!!” the ghost was not amused “Expect the last one at midnight the third night.”
The spirit then turned dragging his horrible CD’s behind him and entered the computer screen once more. As he faded away like an old screensaver he turned once more to look at Mr. Cheese “Do not forget what I have told you tonight Mr. Cheese…….do not forget.” His voice could be heard trailing off into the distance as he faded into the darkness.
Mr. Cheese walked over to the computer and peered behind it looking for any signs of the ghost almost as if to still doubt what he had just witnessed. He could hear the whine of the fan as it cooled off the inner components. He leaned in closer with his ear…..closer….closer……
“BOO!!!!!!!!!” the ghostly figure popped its ugly head out of the rear vent of the computer case sending Mr. Cheese flying backwards against the wall, his robe up over his head now.
“Holy shit man that’s not funny.” Mr. Cheese said in a shaken voice
“Like hell it wasn’t, you should have seen your face man……..priceless. Just wanted to remind you to not forget…….” With that the ghost once again faded away into the computer. Mr. Cheese wasted no time springing to his feet and yanking the power cord from the back of the computer. He then disconnected all network cables not only coming into the computer, but also into the house.
“Super Highway that you bastard, I hope you get DDoS’ed by some script kiddies on your way back……..nOOb!!”
With the confidence that he could relax, Mr. Cheese headed down the hall and into his room to turn in for the night. One last time he looked behind him to make sure there was nothing there before closing his door and ducking under the covers.
posted by Mr. Cheese @ 12:20 AM
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