Scrooge, You Ignorant Slut

Scrooge walked away wondering not only how the Ghost could see with the entire cloak covering his face, but also how he could show him his own dead body but give him the silent treatment like he was a bishop passing a street urchin.

"I won't die. I can't die. And if I do, I don't care. I am but a small blip on this giant screen. I am nothing. I may seem great to this town, I may have the money of a Happy Man, but in the grand scheme of things, it is insignificant. That is the theme of the night; the message of  these three spirits. I may seem like I was a miser in need of reform, but really the lesson is that nothing matters. Nothing at all. In a hundred years, nobody will know the name Ebenezer Scrooge."

That morning, Christmas morning, Scrooge allowed himself to slip into oblivion. Dead as the final doornail in Marley's coffin. But he had learned nothing at all from these spirits, and thus his story was not one to tell. Mr. Dickens never felt so inclined to put ink to pen in the name of Ebenzer Scrooge, and a hundred years passed without so much as a "Bah Humbug."