A Cartoon Christmas Carol

Chapter One: Peter G. Scrooge

"Monster! How do you sleep at night?"

"Like a Chinese man on opium". Peter just laughs.

"Please. It's freezing".

"Oh, get a sweater. It's not that cold. You're just faking it. Good day woman". Peter just leaves. Ms. Elric keeps begging but it doesn't work. They were thrown on the street. What will they do now? Peter doesn't care. He just wants the money. As for the weather, he doesn't care about that either. He liked the cold. He was hard and sharp as a flint, secretive and self-contained, and as solitary as an oyster, whatever the hell that means. He makes his way from the slum row onto the main street. The street is filled with holiday cheer, being that it twas the day before Christmas. Children were singing Christmas carols and families were going about just enjoying the holiday. Boy does he hate it.

"Merry Christmas Mr. Scrooge!"

"Mr. Scrooge! Merry Christmas!".

"Have a Merry Christmas Mr. Scrooge!". God! How he hated this holiday so much. This was more annoying than that one time this moustached guy with glasses who was happily paying his loan off, frickin' praying to God. Peter needs to let off some steam.

"Flowers. Please buy some flowers. Would you like a flower?"

It was a little flower girl, with dirty brown hair, trying to earn money selling flowers. She only had a ragged dress and a thin shawl to cover her. The people around her would pity her. She must've not eaten in days they thought, so they would buy some of the flowers she sells. Peter just continues to walk.

"Buy a flower please mister?". The girl approaches to Peter, who to spite the caring, giving, Christmas spirit, pushes the girl aside. As a result, she fell onto the pavement, her flowers also fall onto the pavement, ruining them.

"Oh sorry" Peter says with pure sarcasm, "I have seasonal allergies to both flowers and the poor". Peter walks away laughing while the girl tries to get what flowers she had left, any livelihood not ruined by the snow, while she tears up. She won't have anything to eat, and she is awfully hungry, but Peter doesn't care. He has no heart for the poor. He continues on to his office. He's feeling a little better about himself, but he still needs to let go some anger of the season.

"Matches. Does anyone want to buy matches?"

Score. There was a little match girl with blue hair. Her feet were quite red and blue from walking in the snow barefooted. She had nothing to cover her head. She was followed by a white cat, must be a stray. Peter just continues to walk.

"Mister, please buy a match, so I can have something to eat tonight". You must know that Peter liked to do the same cruel thing twice. Once the little girl approaches, he pushes her away, causing her to fall onto the pavement with her matches flying in the air. The matches dropped onto the ground, some of them fell through an opening to the sewers. The little girl desperately tried to get her matches, but most of them were damp. These matches were now useless as Mr. Roy Mustang on Rainy days. She can't go home without any money, her father will beat her so, and she is almost out of matches.

"Hey! Thank me, I just got rid of another fire hazard!" Peter keeps on walking laughing to himself, the little blue haired match girl just crouched down on the street. Her white car tries to comfort her as she cries for the loss of the matches, she won't be going home tonight, and she is hungry. Peter, however, just doesn't care, laughing all the way to his office. He finally arrives there, more despicable and less Christmassy than ever. His clerk, a scrawny blonde man with sharp angular features in baggy clothes, for he cannot afford them, was working, freezing in the dark cold room, for he only had the candle to keep him warm.