Subtitle The Muppet Christmas Carol May 2026

The Ghost of Christmas Present, a giant, jolly fellow surrounded by a feast of epic proportions, showed him the joy he was missing. He saw the Cratchit family, their small home filled with warmth and love, despite their poverty. He saw Tiny Tim, Bob’s youngest son, a brave little frog with a big heart, and he felt a pang of something he hadn’t felt in years: compassion.

In the drafty, cobblestoned heart of London, where the fog clung to the gaslights like a cold, wet wool coat, lived a man whose heart was a frozen pea. Ebenezer Scrooge was his name, and to say he was "mean" was like saying the sun was "a bit warm." He was a tight-fisted, squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous old sinner.

"Mr. Scrooge, sir," Bob ventured, his voice trembling like a leaf in a gale. "It’s Christmas Eve. Might I… might I have a bit more coal for the fire?"

And so it began. The Ghost of Christmas Past, a gentle, ethereal being, took Scrooge back to his youth, to the schoolroom where he sat alone, to the apprenticeship where he first felt the sting of greed. He saw the woman he loved, Belle, leave him because his heart had become a vault for gold.

That night, as Scrooge sat in his lonely chambers, eating his gruel by the dying embers of a meager fire, a sound like the rattling of chains echoed through the house. The door flew open, and there, standing in the doorway, were the ghosts of his former partners, Jacob and Robert Marley. They were draped in heavy chains, forged from cashboxes, keys, padlocks, ledgers, deeds, and heavy purses wrought in steel.

"I do," said Scrooge. "Merry Christmas! What right have you to be merry? What reason have you to be merry? You’re poor enough."