Bob Cratchit was already at his desk by sunrise. He was furiously typing away at his old-run-down-PC, when Ebenezer Scrooge walked in. Just the sound of the door creaking at his entry – Scrooge never agreed to spend a few dimes to oil it – made Cratchit spring upright in his chair. Scrooge rushed in, his face fixed upon his 5 inch smartphone screen and into his office. Cratchit had stopped wishing him a goodmorning, for it never was, and he never got a reply anyway.
#Scrooge just in. Darn morning again, tweeted @BCratchit stealing a moment from his piled up workload.
Scrooge was always buried in a screen, be it his smartphone, his tablet, or his computer, he barely looked to see where he was going. And for a person so wired up, he was hardly sociable. He disliked anything to do with holidays. For him work was his life.
But it was already Christmas Eve and Bob wanted to go home, to his family and friends and celebrate.
@BCratchit: Stop #Tweeting and #work. Otherwise no leave for #Dec25. Bah #Humbug! replied @EbScrooge, surprising Bob who delved back into his screen without seeing the next tweet:
@JMarley: #Scrooge up for #surprise.