A CHRISTMAS CAROL THE LIKES YOU'VE NEVER COME ACROSS BEFORE........ ( An abridged version of a Dicken's classic as retold by Pun )

Just as Bigot reached his front door of his home he heard a clanging noise behind him. He quickly turned round and there standing before him, draped and manacled in chains,  was Pantopod, whose dead body should still be weighted down at the bottom of the lake. 
" I've been waiting for you Bigot.....where have you been this Christmas Eve night ? "
" I've spent whole night down at the Fawcett Inn, the house of ill repute " 
" Heavens above Bigot....what sort of place is that ? "
" Liquor in the front.....and poker in the rear ! "
" Well, enough of the pleasantries......I'm here on a mission.....and that is to give you a warning about what you are going to experience later......... when the bells toll for thee at midnight "
 But before Bigot could say " sod off ", the haunting apparition of his first ever victim suddenly evaporated  from view. 
Once inside his house he quickly jumped into bed to contemplate what to do with his huge collection of french letters. Despite having the central heating on at full blast, the air turned icy cold, and emerging from the vapours of a strange white mist appeared the ghost of Christmas past. The spectre reached out grabbed his hand,  transporting Bigot back to the days when he was an up and coming young bridge player, enjoying his time with lots of friends and admirers. They were laughing and joking at the numerous gifts the wooden tops kept showering upon them.
" I remember all that ..."
"Ah...but do you remember the day a young lady asked you to be her partner ? "
" Yes.......and I declined because she wasn't up to my standard "
" No....you are wrong....you turned her down her because of your sexist, anti-female attitudes. Well, guess what....she turned out to be Britain's finest player , and if you had partnered her you  would gone on to win every major tournament,  competing on the world's stage for years to come . "
" Bugger "
And on that bitter realization of what might have been, Bigot then found himself back in his bed racked with resentment and regret.
Then as the bell tolled 2 o'clock another ghost appeared. Bigot gave a little scream and a jerk, and so relieved himself. 
" Enough of that.......I am the ghost of Christmas present and I want to take you on a journey of self-discovery ....."
" Where are we going ? "
" To the Pantopod house to see how the wife is coping without a husband, and the children without their father "
Within seconds Bigot was inside their front room, a hovel of a place, with just a solitary present
at the base of a small limp, dying Christmas tree. A photograph of poor Percy hung from the wall taken days before he mysteriously disappeared. He couldn't help but notice the deep psychological scars on his tormented and tortured face. Here was a man he had mentally crippled by his relentless bullying and harassment at the table, before deciding to do him in. 
The place was full of sadness and sorrow with the children still grieving for their beloved father.
" I can take no more.....please get me away from here......I beg you "
Instantly , Bigot was transported to the house of the world finest lady player , who was having a high stakes rubber bridge party with some the best names known in the world of bridge today.
" I knew one chap " ,she said, " who turned down me as his partner. What a player he could have been if he hadn't chosen to team up with Freddy Flywheel. They resorted to underhand tactics and cheating to win low ranking competitions. From that point on he lost the ability to enjoy his bridge, and to develop his obvious talent. By allowing a " win-at-any-cost " mentality to take over....he allowed his game to suffer. "
Bigot sighed.

( Part 2 to follow tomorrow )