[quote]EXT. LONDON EXCHANGE
The Phantom’s finger points to two middle-aged men meeting on the massive
(to the Phantom)
I know these men, perfectly. Men of
business: very wealthy, and of great
importance. I've made a point always of
standing well in their esteem -- in a
business point of view, that is; strictly
How are you?
How are you?
Well! Old Scratch has got his own at last,
So I am told. Cold, isn't it?
Seasonable for Christmas time. You're not
a skaiter, I suppose?
No. No. Something else to think of. Good
The two men part. A puzzled Scrooge follows the Phantom through the streets.
EXT. CITY STREET
A busy street corner. Scrooge peers curiously at the Phantom.
I am rather surprised that you should
attach importance to conversations
apparently so trivial.
No response from the Phantom.
They must have some hidden purpose, or
else you wouldn't be showing them to me.
Is that right?
They could scarcely have any bearing on
the death of Jacob, my old partner, for
his death was in the Past, and this is
Scrooge looks around at the multitudes of pedestrians pouring past him.
I can't help but notice that this is my
accustomed corner, and I see by the clock
that this is my usual time of day for being
here... but I see no likeness of myself.
Caught up in what he’s saying, Scrooge fails to see the Phantom move off.
Not that I'm surprised, you understand.
You see, I've been revolving in my mind a,
er, change of life. And I should like to
think... that is, I rather hope... that my
not being here is the result of my having
carried out some, ah, resolutions regarding --
Scrooge suddenly notices that the Phantom has moved on down the street and
hurriedly follows it.
EXT. BAD PART OF TOWN - DUSK
Scrooge trails the Phantom, looking over this neighborhood, near sunset. The
ways are foul and narrow; the shops and houses wretched; the people half-
naked, drunken, slipshod, ugly. Alleys and archways, like so many cesspools,
disgorge their offences of smell, and dirt, and life, upon the straggling
streets; and the whole quarter reeks with crime, with filth, and misery.
INT. SHOP - NIGHT
A low-browed, beetling shop, below a pent-house roof, where iron, old rags,
bottles, bones, and greasy offal, are bought. Upon the floor within, are
piled up heaps of rusty keys, nails, chains, hinges, files, scales, weights,
and refuse iron of all kinds. Secrets that few would like to scrutinise are
bred and hidden in mountains of unseemly rags, masses of corrupted fat, and
sepulchres of bones. Sitting in among the wares he deals in, by a charcoal
stove, made of old bricks, is a grey-haired rascal, nearly seventy years of
age who smokes his pipe in all the luxury of calm retirement. This is OLD JOE.
Scrooge and the Phantom come into his presence, just as a CHARWOMAN with a
heavy bundle slinks into the shop. But she has scarcely entered, when another
woman, a LAUNDRESS, similarly laden, comes in too; and she is closely
followed by a man in faded black, an UNDERTAKER, who is no less startled by
the sight of them, than they had been upon the recognition of each other.
After a short period of blank astonishment, in which Old Joe joins them, they
all three burst into a laugh.
Let the charwoman alone to be the first!
Let the laundress alone to be the second;
and let the undertaker's man alone to be
(to Old Joe)
Look here, old Joe, here's a chance! If we
haven't all three met here without meaning
You couldn't have met in a better place.
Come into the parlour. You were made free
of it long ago, you know; and the other two
ain't strangers. Stop till I shut the door
of the shop.
He shuts the door which creaks badly.
Ah! There ain't such a rusty bit of metal
in the place as its own hinges, I believe;
and I'm sure there's no such old bones here,
as mine. Ha, ha! We're all suitable to our
calling, we're well matched. Come into the
parlour. Come into the parlour.
They follow him into:
INT. THE PARLOUR
Something like that?
Feasibility= dependent on Time and Money.