The Passions of Carol

Biva Publications, Merry Christmas.

Biva Publications, Merry Christmas.

No, I'm sorry, Miss Scrooge is in conference.

May someone else help you?

Biva Publications, Merry Christmas.

No, I'm sorry, Mr. Gervich,

Miss Scrooge is in conference and left orders not to be disturbed.

She's busy and left orders not to be disturbed,

Mr. Gervich.

Biva Publications, Merry Christmas.

Impotent, impotent.

If I were searching for a word to best describe this feeble attempt

at a layout,

impotent would spring to my lips.

But Miss Scrooge... -Don't but Miss

Scrooge me, Bob Hatchet. - But Miss Scrooge...

I told you not to do that.

Oh.

-How do you expect me to keep my circulation as high as it's been

with a bunch of photographs of limp dicks?

Hatchet, today's woman will not accept a limp dick

in her bedroom, will she?

No, I guess not.

-She won't accept a limp dick on her singles' weekend,

will she? -I suppose she won't.

-Then she certainly won't accept a bunch of limp dicks

in her favorite magazine.

-Miss Scrooge, the photographer had trouble with these models.

It's very difficult to get exactly...

-Hatchet, I don't care how you do it, I don't care if you work all night,

these cocks had better be as big and as hard as the Washington monument.

Miss Scrooge, it's Christmas Eve.

Bah humbug.

Christmas Eve, is it?

Why does everything have to stop just because it's Christmas?

It's only once a year.

I promised my wife.

Bah humbug.

Hatchet,

if I were you, I'd worry more about my job than about Christmas.

Miss Scrooge...

Go, Hatchet,

and take this hatchet job with you,

and send in the Biva Boy of the Month candidate

on your way out.

Biva Publications, Merry Christmas.

No, I'm sorry, Mr. Gervich, Miss Scrooge is in conference.

She's very busy, Mr. Gervich, and left orders not to be disturbed.

Perhaps Mr. Hatchet can help you.

Come in.

Good afternoon.

I'm Curt Reynolds, and a Merry Christmas to you, toots.

Bah humbug.

I beg your pardon?

-|'m not interested in what season it happens to be,

Mr. Reynolds.

I'm a very busy woman, so would you mind?

Oh, sure. I have the portfolio right here.

I think you'll see any photos you'd like.

-You do have quite a body here, Mr. Reynolds.

-Well I do manage to keep in shape with a few bumps and grinds here and there

and a few midnight pushups.

I can see that,

but we can't tell everything from photographs.

We expect a great deal from our Biva Boys,

a great deal.

Take off your clothes.

Why, a certain amount.

I've got nothing to hide but my shortcomings.

-Gina, I'd like you in here right now, please.

Yes, Miss Scrooge.

-This young gentleman thinks he'd like to be a Biva Boy.

What do you think? - You do seem to have the right equipment.

Does it work as good as it looks?

|t's never let me down yet, mama.

-You do understand, Mr. Reynolds, that even though my assistant

is touching and caressing your penis, that this is only business.

-That's right, ma'am, but before we dine, we got to sign.

I must know, for my readers,

what it looks like when it's bigger and harder,

whether you really qualify to be a sex symbol.

I mean whether you really qualify.

Does it meet with your approval, dear?

Very much, Miss Scrooge.

-Hiya, sweetheart. No, I'm still at the office, babe.

I know it's Christmas Eve, but Miss Scrooge said

she'd fire me if I didn't finish this layout.

Yes, dear, I know Tiny Kim wants her daddy home.

Look, sweetheart, I'll finish this,

speed it up as quickly as I can.

I'll be home as soon as possible, okay?

Bye.

Sweetheart,

Merry Christmas.

Bye.

Biva Publications, Merry Christmas.

No, I'm sorry, Miss Scrooge has left for the day,

but she will be in tomorrow.

I know it's Saturday, and I know it's Christmas Day.

Yes, but she always works on Christmas Day.

Pauli? Pauli, where are you?

Yes, Miss. Scrooge.

If I've told you once,

I've told you a thousand times not to leave

your cleaning apparatus strewn all over the house.

|'m sorry, Miss Scrooge, but I don't...

-Don't but Miss. Scrooge me. Why does everyone bug me?

"But Miss Scrooge that, but Miss Scrooge this."

I've had enough of it.

Now, get this out of here.

Look at that.

Uhh, oh, Miss Scrooge,

I was wondering if I could have the night off.

My boyfriend, Tony, has tickets to the Christmas show

at Radio City, and being that it's Christmas,

I thought you might let me have the night off.

-What? If I hear Christmas from one more person...

Look, you cheap little tart.

If you want to perversely copulate with your boyfriend,

do it on your own time.

Now I've got to get some sleep, and I don't want to be disturbed.

Do you understand?

Yes, Miss Scrooge.

-If Lance Marley was only still alive, he was the only one that ever understood

what was going on.

All of these incompetent fools babbling about Christmas and this and that.

Absolutely ridiculous.

Carol.

Carol Scrooge.

Carol!

Carol Scrooge!

Turn around, you dummy.

Turn around and look upon me!

-What are you doing? What do you want with me?

Carol Scrooge.

Who are you?

Don't ask me who I was

Ask me who I was, in life!

In life, I was your partner, Lance Marley.

Don't you remember me, Carol Scrooge?

Look at me.

Why are you wearing that thing?

|'m glad you asked me,

Carol Scrooge.

I am wearing this chain

I formed in life

inch by inch,

Yard by yard.

Please spare me, Lance.

What do you want?

How do I look, Carol?

Different, don't I?

I've got a proposition for you, honey.

You don't want to wind up like me, do you?

I'm here to save you.

I got a raw deal,

I really did.

I died at my desk with a hard-on.

Carol,

it wasn't fair.

They threw the book at me.

I still got some bruises.

I'm telling you, Carol... it wasn't fair,

but I'm going to save you.

I'm going to help you.

Look at these chains.

These worldly whatnots.

I have to walk around in time endless

with these heavy chains.

Is it not fair?

-Lance, even the Grim Reaper can't shut you up.

Please, just get to the point.

-Okay, listen, I got a really good proposition for you, honey,

because I made a deal with the committee,

so you're pretty lucky.

You understand what I mean?

Do you understand what I mean?

Okay, honey.

You're going to be visited by three spirits.

Oh no. -Oh, yes, you are.

I'll tell you what, if you don't cooperate, Carol,

you know what's going to happen.

You know what's going to happen.

These heavy chains.

What am I supposed to do?

You know, Carol,

it's been seven long years,

lonely years.

You still look pretty damn good to me, tootsie.

You know that?

Do you know what death is?

You don't know what death is.

I know what death is.

It's an ever-endless wet dream

and you keep waking up before you come.

What about it, tootsie?

There's nobody that gives good blowjobs in heaven.

How about it, baby?

For old Lancey.

Carol poo,