open, and slid it under his feet. He glided to the floor. As fast as he could, he folded the airfoil and concealed it beneath his shirt.

Kit turned his flashlight back on. His heart was pounding. He hoped that Karnage hadn’t seen his airfoil. While he said, “You are very brave. One of the bravest mortals that I’ve ever met,” he tucked the hook underneath Karnage’s waistband. Then, he slapped the pirate on the back.

Karnage puffed with pride at the praise. “You are very solid for a speerit.” He suspiciously reached out a hand to touch the ‘ghost’.

In the nick of time, Kit flew towards the ceiling, out of Karnage’s grasp.

“Silence, mortal! Now, gaze upon your past.” Kit chuckled eerily and blinded the pirate with his flashlight. “Spin him!” he hissed.

Wildcat and Baloo twisted the second rope on the second pulley. Then, they let it go.

Karnage spun on his rope around and around, faster and faster like a marionette on a string until he was just a blur. “Whoa-oh-oh-oh! I am not liking this, speerit!”

In one corner of the room, Molly and Duncan slid into position. Molly was in a frilly white dress. Duncan had on blue shorts and a scarlet waistcoat. Hanging on the wall behind them was a calendar decorated with a Norman Rockwelle Christmas painting. The date on it was December 1909.

When Karnage slowed down, he clamped a paw over his queasy stomach and one over his mouth.

Kit shone his flashlight on the scene. Luckily, in one of his rare confiding moments, Karnage had related this anecdote to Kit when the boy was a member of the air pirates.

Don Karnage, seeing the two cubs, chuckled with merriment. “Lookity-look! It is my fabulous little self!”

“He bought it!” whispered Baloo, grinning in triumph. He stifled another sneeze.

“Baloo, shh!” Rebecca hissed, giving her husband a little nudge with her elbow.

The children knelt on the floor, playing a game of jacks.

“Onesies, twosies, threesies,” Molly chanted as she bounced the little rubber ball and scooped up an increasing number of jacks.

For no reason other than pure meanness, Duncan swiped his hand across the floor and snatched up all the jacks.

“Hey, don’t do that, Dun...I mean, Don!” Molly cried.

Little ‘Don Karnage’ cackled in her face and took her bouncy ball.

Pouting, Molly pulled a candy cane from her pocket and unwrapped it.

Duncan stole it from her and stuck it in his own mouth, causing Molly to howl with some really over-acted fake sobs.

Karnage giggled with glee. “I remember that. It was the first time I ever stole-ded. So seemple, like taking candy from a sitting baby girl off a log.”

Duncan ran away, leaving Molly to cry over her lost treat. The flashlight flipped off and the cubs hurried back behind the curtain.

Karnage stumbled about in the darkness only to fall face first into his pile of ‘presents’. His muffled voice asked, “Where are you, speerit?”

Kit shone his flashlight on his own face. “Because you stole from that little girl, she never liked candy ever again.”

“So what? I saved her from costly dentist bills.” The pirate captain scrambled to his feet.

“So...” Kit hadn’t the faintest idea how to answer that. The pirate had a point. “That one event began a life of crime.”

“Crime is my celebrated career,” Karnage stated proudly.

Kit rolled his eyes, murmuring to himself, “Spare me.” Out loud, he said, “In a few minutes, another spirit more horrible than me will visit. Wait in the dark. Pay no attention to the voices. They are the voices of my spirit friends.”

Kit flicked off his light and was lowered safely to the floor. He joined his family behind the curtain.

Don Karnage stood still in the dark. “I am just having a bad night dream. If I pinch myself, I will wake up. Ouch! Maybe that was a dream pinch. Ouch!”

Behind the curtain, Baloo wrestled with the wreath on his head. The crinkly bow scratched the back of his neck. “Help me with this doggone thing, Becky!”

With a fierce yank, Rebecca ripped off the bow.

Baloo stepped out from behind the curtain. A red rug was draped over his shoulders and the front door Christmas wreath was on his head. Like Kit, he was covered in flour. Flicking on his flashlight, he glided across the floor towards Karnage. In his best spooky voice, he said, “Ooo...ooo...I am the Ghost of Christmas Present.”

Karnage’s ears perked up. “Present? I get another present?”

Baloo tipped the flashlight up to shine in his face. He scowled. “Wrong-o, Karny, uh, I mean, Karnage. I am the Ghost of Christmas Now - at this very moment.”

“Oh, that kind of present.” His eyes narrowing with suspicion, he asked, “How come you don’t fly like the other ghosty?”

“I, um...uh...” Baloo thought fast. “I haven’t passed my flight exams yet. The Ghost Council is real strict on licensing.”

Karnage bought it hook, line, and sinker. Then, like a fish, he twirled on his line. “Oh, no! Not again! My sacro-il-y-ac-ack!” He spun faster than a Hanukkah dreidel.

This time, Rebecca and Molly took their places on the floor in front of Karnage. They were dressed in their rattiest, tightest clothes with handkerchiefs tied around their head.

“Becky, yer earrings!” Baloo whispered.

“Oh!” Quickly, Rebecca yanked her handkerchief down over her ears.

As soon as Karnage ceased spinning, Baloo spotlighted the females with his flashlight.

“Woe are we,” lamented Rebecca melodramatically. She clutched Molly to her chest.

Molly gave a half-hearted cough. “Why did Santa’s elves take our presents, our food, and our coal, Mommy?” HACK! HACK! “I’m cold and hungry!” HACK!

“Because Santa is an evil, no-good, no-talent thief, honey,” Rebecca replied, shivering.

Karnage giggled. “I assemble those remarks!”

Molly exclaimed, “I hate Santa!” HACK!

The flashlight flicked off. All was darkness.

“Encore! Once again!” Karnage cheered, applauding. He stuck his fingers in his mouth and whistled.

“I think ya missed the point,” Baloo growled, turning on his flashlight and holding it just under his chin. “Doncha feel bad, stealin’ from those poor people?”

“No,” Karnage replied insolently.

Baloo gritted his teeth. Under his breath, he muttered, “I’d like ta deck yer halls, Karny.” Aloud, he said, “In a few minutes, the third ghost will visit ya. One who is truuuuly terrifyin’.” He whispered to himself, “I hope.”

The big bear flicked off his flashlight and slipped behind the black curtain.

Wildcat, the next ‘ghost’, was engulfed in Baloo’s black bathrobe. His head and hands were powdered with flour.

“Remember, don’t talk no matter what,” Baloo whispered, securing the rope around Wildcat’s waist.

“Got it!” Wildcat whispered back. Chagrined, he clapped a floury paw over his mouth and nodded. Baloo and Rebecca hoisted the ‘ghost’ to the ceiling.

Wildcat clicked his flashlight on, but he pointed it at the floor.

“Face!” Kit hissed. “Flashlight! Face!”

The mechanic whipped the flashlight up to his face, bonking himself on the nose in the process. He was in excruciating pain, but he didn’t make a sound.

“Who are you?” Karnage demanded in annoyance. These spirits were getting on his nerves by taking up valuable ‘present’ examining time.

Wildcat just dangled there. He didn’t say a word.

“Ah, the strong silent night type. Get on with your spooking and get out.”

The third ‘ghost’ was lowered towards the pirate. Even friendly Wildcat appeared scary in his costume.

“I...I mean, if you please, speerit, get on with your spooking,” Karnage whispered, shrinking away in fear. Once again, the pirate captain was spun on his rope. “I am getting sick from this!”

Baloo and Kit got into position for the final scene. They wore suit jackets and ties. Both still had traces of flour on them. No amount of brushing and shaking could get it out of their fur. Behind them were cardboard cutouts shaped like tombstones. Molly and Duncan shone flashlights on them.

“This is kind of fun,” Kit remarked, tiptoeing through the ‘graveyard’.

“Yeah, for once yer teacher gave ya a good assignment. What could be better’n collectin’ interesting grave rubbings for history class?”

“Doing it during the day?” Kit said wryly.

They stumbled upon a grave stone.

“Don Karnage,” the boy read, putting the emphasis on the first syllable of ‘Karnage’. “Who’s that?”

Baloo made a big show of scratching his head and shrugging. “Dunno, son, never heard of him.”

“Aah!” Karnage cried, incredulous as he stared at the tableau. “I cannot believe what my ears hear!”

Baloo continued as if he hadn’t heard Karnage’s remarks. “Musta not have been an important person. His tombstone is so tiny, you can barely see it.” He shook his head sadly.

Kit was finding it hard not to laugh at Karnage’s astonished face. The pirate captain’s jaw almost touched the floor. “Poor guy. He must not have had a single penny when he died. Oh, there’s John Doe. Let’s get his grave rubbing.”

The flashlights turned off.

Sinking to his knees, Don Karnage gave a strangled cry. “I’m p...poor? I die without a trillion dollars or a nickel?” His voice rose to a shriek. “THEY DON’T KNOW WHO MY BEAUTIFUL SELF IS! HOW COULD THEY NOT HEAR OF THE FEARED PIRATE DON KARNAGE?” He grabbed hold of the hem of Wildcat’s robe. Since the ‘ghost’ was still suspended in mid-air, he swayed from side to side. In desperation, he asked, “Speerit, how do I prevent this terrible misunfortunate from happening?”

Wildcat shone his flashlight on the pile of stolen stuff. He then pointed a floury finger towards Cape Suzette.

“Give