Philip K. Dickens wondered whether Scrooge

Philip K. Dickens wondered whether Scrooge was even human as he toiled over pointless numbers late one festive evening in the heart of the heartless metropolis. Cratchit seemed hum

an enough to protagonize though, if surely weak in the spine. PKD tilted back his armchair rocker, tried to drink from an empty cup and set it down. An idea had struck. ~Ghosts.~

So he forgot about all the prior stuff and built a fire. When the shadows got real eerie he said, "Ghosts..." and spread his hands out. He was going to tell a scary story.

The fire melted the wax that kept his demonic wings on, and they hit the ground with a thud. The moment was ruined. "Kids, let me tell you the story about why I don't use duct tape

..." But the kids refused to listen. They couldn't bear the thought of duct tape NOT being the answer. It was all they had. He picked up his defective wings and tried again. "Duct

tape CAN fix everything, kids, if you just believe." He had to fake it for them. He had to make it work and keep the spirit of duct tape alive in their hearts. But the wings just

couldn't keep up with their wild pace. He frantically applied more duct tape, but even the adhesive of the Gods was powerless to fix the wings. "Hold on, gang! We're going down!"

Everyone braced themselves as the aircraft headed for the ocean.

Suddenly, a wormhole appeared and General Custer came through it and ran into the cockpit where he got control of the airplane by using the wormhole as an engine to land the plane.