Spirited

Do people really change? I mean, real, lasting, positive change.

I sure hope so, because we are in the business of change.

Please. Please.

I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry.

I'm sorry. I... I... I... I won't yell at the neighbor's kids anymore.

I-I-I'll take back the claim against the Johnsons,

even though that tree house is a flagrant violation...

I'm sorry! No! No, no! Please! I... I can change.

I... I promise! Please. Please, please, please. Please, I... I...

Please give me another chance. I can change!

Don't worry about her. In a few minutes, she'll wake up in her bed.

Dry, rested and hopefully a whole new person.

All right! She's back in bed. Could I get a coffee over here?

Coffees flying in.

You see, this is just a supernatural simulation.

And these are my colleagues,

The Ghost of Christmas Past,

Christmas Yet-to-Come... - No doubt.

Oh, boy. That looks good. Thank you.

And that's me. Mr. Brad Pitt. No. No, I'm kidding.

I'm The Ghost of Christmas Present. I'm not Brad Pitt.

So, you think she changed?

I mean, I don't know. This one was a serious tight-ass.

Of course she's changed.

I brought her face-to-face with her mortality,

and that's when I close the deal every time.

Anyone can point to a headstone. Everyone agrees with me.

Guys, please. - You know what?

I do way more than just point at it.

That hurts me.

Yet-to-Come is a wrap.

Inform Mr. Marley our perp will awaken in two minutes.

Copy that.

Marley-san, Marley-san!

Already? - Yeah.

Excellent. Thank you, Kazuko. Very exciting.

Spirits, gather up, one and all!

Research, Locations,

Costume Department!

This is our dedicated staff of support ghosts.

They work so hard to make us look good.

Okay. We are walking.

New recruits, I know you're freshly dead, but let's look alive.

You've enlisted at the perfect time.

They're on their way to find out if the person we've haunted

is really going to change.

Can we go see that?

No. Come on.

And this is the moment we worked all year for.

Oh!

No, honey, don't go in her yard! - We don't want her calling the police.

It's okay. I can get it.

Sorry, Ms. Blansky. We'll take the game down the street.

We don't want any trouble today.

What day is this?

It's Christmas Day.

The ghosts did it all in one night. - Are you okay?

Do you need us to call someone?

Or do you wanna play?

Me?

Sure. I-If you want to.

After all the times I've reported you to the HOA or called the police

or s-stolen your packages?

You did what? - Huh?

Go ahead. Give it a try. It's fun.

Yeah!

Congratulations, Ms. Blansky.

I did it? You mean it's really...

You're a different person now, Karen.

Go make amends, and make us proud.

I will. I promise you, I will!

Whoo! - Attagirl, Karen!

Appreciate it so much. All the way in the b... Ow!

Oh, could I join in?

So, that's what we do.

We haunt someone, change them into a better person,

and then we sing about it.

Why are they singing?

Oh, because this is a musical.

What is?

All of this. The afterlife.

Yay! I had a feeling.

Aw, come on. Really?

Bring on the Chili of Positive Outcome!

Dude, I can't dance like this. Are you gonna be able to keep up with all this?

I mean, if I start dancing, I'm gonna shut it down, man. Everybody gonna look bad.

Hey, does somebody clear out our search history after we die?

Excuse me, sir.

Oh, hey, Margo. I was just avoiding you.

Yes, sir. I get it.

But, you know, it is my job to review your file after each haunt.

So, you have been eligible for retirement for 46 seasons.

Yeah. - And you're still here.

Like, all the time. - Hmm.

Well, I believe the work we do here is very important.

Yeah, yeah. But don't you want another crack at life?

God, I miss drinking. - Huh?

I used to go so hard with my girls back in Tampa.

Wait, aren't you in HR?

I have a tramp stamp on the front and the back.

We were crazy. We stole a cruise ship one time.

Look, HR, I don't know if that's the right area for you...

Figgy pudding.

Wh... I'm sorry, what?

It says in your file that you liked figgy pudding.

Don't you wanna try it again?

Don't you wanna go back on Earth and do person stuff again?

Yeah, I guess so.

I mean, I... I died before there was indoor plumbing, so I...

Well, um, it's been fun chatting and everything,

but, um, there's, like, a whole party going on, so...

Okay, but I feel like you started the conversation.

Anyway, 46 seasons. Crazy.

Just saying. Maybe it's time.

Maybe she has a point.

Maybe I buy a quaint little house on a quiet street.

I meet a nice gal, and we get married and start a family.

And then, at the end of each day after work,

we have a loving embrace and one of those newfangled, modern mouth kisses.

That'd be nice.

And there's me in the backyard

goofing around with my two kids who share the same first initial.

Little Rebecca and her... her brother, Reggie or Robert or...

R-R-Rar... I don't know. I'll think of a good "R" name.

Hey. Come on now, potty mouth.

Bit inappropriate for the day.

I know, I know, old friend.

This is just your usual post-haunt comedown, yeah?

It's more than that, Jacob.

Look at this place, mate.

Every single one of them's a soul that we've redeemed. Together.

So, fret not, sunshine.

For in two weeks' time, we scout next season's perp,

and I've seen the file on this one.

Manages a fancy hotel in Vancouver. - Uh-huh?

Right vile little bastard. You're gonna love him.

Just what you need to get back up on that horse.

So, come on now. Stiff upper. Big-boy pants.

Hey. Hey. Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey. You.

Walter. - No one cares what your name is,

and no one should have a mustache on their lip and forehead.

Why are you crossing through my grand lobby, hmm?

These Christmas Tree conventioners pay top dollar to be here,

so they don't have to look at or think about people like you,

you walking plunger.

So, did I tell you?

Abusive, stingy, self-centered.

I like that he goes against the Canadian stereotype.

Yeah. It's weird to see a Canadian without mittens.

I mean, yeah. He's an absolute turd in a suit.

Mm-hmm. - Right?

But, I'm just wondering... Hear me out.

This guy... And he's terrible... - Mm-hmm.

But if we change him, does he create enough ripples to make a real difference?

That's all I'm saying. - Make a real difference?

Four-hundred people work for him.

Bit sad, isn't it?

Disgruntled, yeah? Taking it out on their kids.

Yes. Yes, Senator. It's... It's designed to be offensive.

Outrage is a drug.

Listen to me, the second you tweet that word,

CNN is no longer talking about how you just boned the teachers' union.

Trust me, Senator. Post it.

I don't know.

Our guest today manages PR for AT&T and the NFL.

He's helped senators, governors, even presidents get elected.

All due respect, Marty, we're on our butts here.

This trade group can't afford to hire some fancy New York media consultant.

Got that right.

Oh, here he is. Let's give him a real good welcome.

From the, uh, Briggs Media Group, Clint Briggs.

Thank you, Marty. Always a pleasure.

And it is true,

I do charge comically enormous fees,

which will probably bankrupt your entire organization,

but, you know, last week,

over 300 million families took down their Christmas trees.

Eighty-one percent of which were fake, plastic trees.

Yeah.

I don't know why you're acting surprised. I hit one button on Amazon,

and a shiny, new tree is on my porch by the end of the afternoon.

Easy-peasy.

Yeah. People, they used to insist on authenticity.

Have people changed? Now, that's the good news.

Now, people never change. But you know something?

Real trees are trending downward. Your sales continue slipping.

Well, you've got the better product.

They're literally eating out of his hand.

Wow!

I want a complete breakdown on him.

I'm talking a living tree in your living room.

As I reach up to place the angel on top,

I look out my window and I see my neighbor, Doug, across the street,

snapping together his artificial tree.

He's like the perfect combination of Mussolini and Seacrest.

Easy-peasy, poor, lazy, deplorable Doug,

who cares more about convenience than the happiness and respect of his town,

of his country, of our sacred holiday!

Clint Briggs. Grew up in Saint Paul, Minnesota.