Charles Dickens: Scrooge then found him self in a very rundown part of town with the Spirit.
Donald Trump: Why have we come to this desolate part of the town?
Stay Puft: Well, its Christmas her too you know!
Donald Trump: Wait a second, I recognize this place. This is Bob Cratchits house! Yes, I know this because I foreclosed on it prior to setting up a mortgage for him.
Charles Dickens: Just as Scrooge finished this, his faithful bookkeeper entered with their youngest son.
Will Riker: Emily, oh Emily Merry Christmas! How is dinner coming along?
Deanna Troi: Merry Christmas Imzadi, its almost done! Martha, go and fetch Peter! Father and Tiny Tim are home!
Tiny Man-E-Faces: Merry Christmas Father! How as church?
Will Riker: It was lovely, go and help your mother Martha.
Dr Xaiver: The goose, the Christmas goose!
Charles Dickens: Tiny Tim started a coughing spell just as he said that. His ailments cause this often.
Deanna Troi: Easy there little one, why don’t you sit down at the table.
Will Riker: You should have seen it Emily, he told me he hoped the people saw him in church because it might be pleasant for them to remember upon Christmas Day, who made lame beggars walk and blind men see.
Donald Trump: Such a remarkable son they have!
Man-E-Faces: Tiny Tim, my main man! Merry Christmas buddy!
Dr. Xaiver: Merry Christmas Peter! Father, Mother lets join in on a prayer.
Charles Dickens: Bob Cratchit lead his family in a prayer and before they started eating, he stood up.
Will Riker: I want to propose a toast. I give you Mr. Scrooge, the founder of the feast!
Deanna Troi: What!? The founder of the feast! Are you insane? He’s a horrible wretched man who pays you so little for your time, and even wants you to work on Christmas day!
Tiny Man-E-Faces: I wish he’d choke… he’s a national socialist!
Deanna Troi: Martha! I’ll have none of that language from you! I suppose in the spirit of Christmas…
Dr. Xaiver: To the founder of the feast, Mr. Scrooge!
Charles Dickens: The raised their glasses to Bob Cratchit’s employer and continued their dinner.
Stay Puft: Come, my time grows short
Donald Trump: But Spirit, is there not more to see? I want to see more!
Stay Puft: I have shown you what is now, my time shall end at the stroke of three.
Charles Dickens: Scrooge could hear the sound of his clock starting its hourly chime.
Donald Trump: But Spirit, is there not time to change these events?
Charles Dickens: And just as he said that the Spirit disappeared, only to be replaced by another.