Ghost

"Y'know," he started slowly (with a glint in his eye), "I bet the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Future hated the season and are burning off their bad karma serving others like themselves." She raised her glass and winked at him. "I'll pull people from their beds and we'll float on into the Costco and the Walmart to marvel at just how cheaply made our temporary happiness really is ... 'cause I'm the Ghost of Christmas WTAF." He bowed until his forehead touched the bar table, because that's what Dickens would have done.