You can read it if you want to.
The tall one stood in front of the large front window and stared outside. There were cars parked along both sides of the street, some pigeons, and a few sparrows. A scattering of dead leaves, scraps of paper, cigarette butts and other assorted small trash blew down the sidewalk. There weren’t many people out walking or driving around, but was mid-afternoon on Christmas Eve, so he hadn’t expected to see much.
He looked at the sky for a few minutes, contemplating the color and thickness of the clouds. “Think we’ll get snow for Christmas?” he asked.
The short one, hunched uncomfortably over his computer, made a non-committal sound.
“Think we’ll get three spirits for Christmas?” The tall one tried again.
“Vodka, gin, and tequila.” The short one said.
“The ghosts.” The tall one decided that spirits sounded pretty good and added some to his soda.
“Marley’s dead, to begin with. He’s been dead a really long time and I don’t remember seeing him on the front door.”
“Have you even seen the front door this week? I don’t remember you going near the front door.”
“Why would I want to go out there? I’ve got good coffee here, and it’s all Christmassy out there.”
The tall one looked out of the window again. Most of the houses and stores he could see were pretty well decorated for the holiday. “You probably hated it when you were a kid, too.”
“Probably,” the short one agreed. “Obviously there was the annual viewing of ‘A Christmas Carol’.”
“Have a favorite version?”
“I don’t like any of them. I don’t even like the book. I really hate the ghost of Christmas Present.”
“What? He’s the fun one! You’re supposed to be afraid of the Future one not the Present.”
“All that one does is point and loom. That’s not scary. You point and loom.”
“So how is Present scary.”
The short one looked up finally and locked eyes with the tall one. “I didn’t say I was scared of him. I said I hate him. The ghost of Christmas Present is loud and cheerful and makes Scrooge go a party where they play that stupid game, and all Scrooge wants to do is go back to bed and… that really connects with me. The ghost of Christmas Present can fuck off with that nonsense.” He over-enunciated the last five words for emphasis.
When you put it that way, the tall one reckoned, it made perfect sense.