From the Desk of Sharper

Good evening, everyone. I have decided to do a KP Version of the famous Charles Dickens story 'A Christmas Carol' with Bonnie taking on the role of Ebenezer Scrooge as well as other well-known KP Characters taking on the roles of the other characters of Dickens' famed story.

Can Bonnie, the multi-billionaire heiress that has been an annoying thorn in Kim's side for the past twenty years, finally change her ways, or will she end up as a lost soul forever?

Unlike the other holiday-related story I am doing (Proposal From The Deep), this is not going to be a part of Whitem's Holiday Fic contest. This is something that is connected with my Rockwaller Universe. It will be on the timeline where the pandemic for the KP verse begins in 2021.

The fanfic is rated T for language including a couple uses of an obscene gesture, a few crude/sexual references and dialogue, a scary image, a few drug references, and for some alcohol/tobacco use.

Kim Possible, characters and settings, are created by Schooley and McCorkle and (c) by Disney.

Val, Athena and Drake are characters in Gothicthundra's universe and all credit is given to her.

Any other OC I create is my own.

"A Rockwaller Christmas Carol"

Chapter 1 - Christmas Eve, 2020

(December 24, 2020)

All throughout the city of Middleton and a majority of its 45,651 residents are in the midst of the Christmas Season, shopping and bustling along and preparing for the holiday.

However, there was one resident living 60 miles to the east of the Denver area that was not happy whenever Christmas came around.

That person was the 31-year old multi-billionaire tycoon known as Bonnie Rockwaller.

She looked at the door that once housed Elsa Clique, the co-founder of the RockwalClique tabloid that was super popular at supermarkets everywhere for celebrity gossip, especially at Smarty-Mart. She had been dead for seven years. She was about as dead as a door nail.

Bonnie was the only one that attended Elsa's funeral. She was her sole executor, her sole administrator, her sole assign, her sole residuary legatee, her sole friend, and sole mourner.

To many people in Middleton, and for the most part around the globe, it should not come as a surprise to anyone how much Bonnie loved the holiday solely for the gifts but hated the holiday for everything else.

First off, she could not stand the caroling during the season, especially when the carolers, complete in their came to her luxurious, and very large, Rockwaller mansion. The very large $400 million 150-bedroom, 250-bathroom, 580,000 square feet mansion that was outside the Denver area (and had its very own exit off the interstate) looked very inviting to the carolers because it was well-decorated for the holidays.

flashback (December 2019)

The doorbell began to ring as Bonnie got out her robe, covering her pajamas.

"Ugh...what is it now..." the brunette muttered. She snapped her fingers to one of her butlers.

"Open the door!" she commanded the butler. The butler did as he was told and it revealed to be a group of 20 carolers, dressed in traditional late 19th century clothes and jackets to protect themselves from the bitter cold.

"'s those group of losers again! Did you get those stupid rags from the bargain bin at Smarty-Mart, buttheads?"

They ignored her insult began to sing Deck The Halls, but were only halfway into the second verse before Bonnie snapped her fingers. It activated a series of cannons that constantly bombarded the carolers with eggs and tomatoes. The carolers fleed and screamed in terror while Bonnie smirked and folded her arms. They ran as fast as their tomato-and-egged 19th century caroler costumes would allow them and 10 German Shepherds and five pit bulls that served as her attack dog brigade chased them out of the gate. One of the German Shepherds even ripped the back pants of a male caroler, showing off his heart underwear.

The male caroler muttered, "She's a three decker sauerkraut and toadstool sandwich with arsenic sauce!"

Bonnie dusted off her hands and said with an evil smile, "That takes care of those annoying caroling losers!"

Secondly, she depised giving any bit of her money to charity. Up until this point in her life. she saw charities who want to leach on her extreme wealth. She had also made very disparaging comments about orphans and widows in the past.

(December 13, 2014)

Bonnie was at the Rockwaller Family Enterprise headquarters in New York when she heard a knock on the door.

"Who is it this time?" Bonnie demanded to know.

"It's the National Charity of Salvation, Miss Rockwaller." one of her interns said.

Bonnie sighed, "Send them in.!"
(A few minutes later)

"And as you can see, Miss Rockwaller..." the director of the NCS said when he was pointing to a flow chart, "...we should have about 1,500 charities set up around the country."

"And this is supposed to make me" Bonnie muttered, slouching in her golden throne in the conference room.

"" the director said at a loss of words.

"Feh...not interested!" Bonnie dismissed him, "Security, escort these losers out of my sight!"

"But...the poor and homeless..." the director pleaded as he, his council, and his charts were taken away by security.

"If the poor die off in the cold winter, they'd better do it and decrease the surplus population of this damn planet." Bonnie said coldly at the man. "Bah...humbug!"

She looked at the large portrait of herself on the wall on the left...and a large portrait of Elisa Clique on the right, whom had set up Bonnie's multi-million dollar tabloid company, producing a lot of the tabloids at grocery stores, specially Smarty-Mart. The latter had died in 2013 as a result of a car accident.

Of course, Bonnie does celebrate Christmas, but her peculiar tradition is that she would rather stay in her mansion and wait while only a handful of servants both give and show her presents to her...and only her. The most expensive gift she has received when she became a billionaire was a private jet worth $35 million that she hardly uses.

(back to Dec. 24, 2020)

And so, Bonnie stood in her house on the outskirts of Denver in the cold winter. She stared at the frozen outbanks of snow facing Interstate 70 from her window in the large conference room where business meetings were held. The only other people present in the room were Tightlips, the head of all her servants and Johnnie Rockwaller, the director of the maids and her only biological connection that remained to her original family as she had cut off all communication with her father, mother, and two sisters. Johnnie, around that time, was 27 years of age, for he was born four years after Bonnie.

"Ughhhh...the stupid dumb losers!" she muttered! "I would rather celebrate Christmas by myself!"

"If you so do mind, sis..." Johnnie asked, "...I was wondering if you could join me and my lovely family for Christmas dinner?"

Bonnie muttered, "Johnnie, I love you as my brother, but you know damn well that I do not do well with family gatherings! We agreed never to discuss such things, remember?"

Johnnie sighed, "Understood...guess it's just me and my wife..but have a merry Christmas to you! God save you!"

"Bah...humbug!" Bonne exclaimed.

"But Christmas is not a humbug, sis!" Johnnie countered. "You don't mean that, I am sure."

"What right or even reason do you even have to be merry?" Bonnie taunted, "You're only upper-middle class compared to me!"

"What right have you to be dismal? " Johnnie questioned, "You're the richest woman in the world! Plus you do get Christmas gifts every year!"

"I only get them for myself!" Bonnie sneered, "Everyone in this mansion, even you, knows this! Everything else about Christmas to me is garbage!"

The trio then heard a buzzer over the intercom.

"Now who comes to my mansion this time?" Bonnie growled.

"It is one of your employees from the tabloid sector, Emily Cratchit!" Tightlips said, pointing to the security cameras. "Security guards gave her prior clearance since she works at your tabloid business as a reporter."

Bonnie sighed, "Send her in!"

Emily Cratchit came in the conference room. She was in her late 30s and had blonde hair with hazel eyes. She was dressed in a black pants suit and was quite nervous about approaching Bonnie. Emily had been working at the RFE for about two years, but she had not received any advancement to her regular salary.

Bonnie and three of her servants marched into the conference room.

"Miss Rockwaller, thank you for coming along!" Emily said to her.

"You'd better make this quick, Mrs. Cratchit. I do not have time for you to bullshit around!" Bonnie snarled.

Emily took a deep breath and said, "I would like to have tomorrow off, Miss Rockwaller, if it is convenient for you. You do allow your employees to take the 25th off!."

"It's not convenient!" Bonnie snarled. "And it's not fair! Everyone knows that the tabloid cycle goes 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year!"

Emily smiled faintly.

"And yet..." Bonnie added, " don't think me as being as a stumbling block to the tabloid cycle to pay a day's wages for no work or photos of the latest celeb gossip."

Emily said, "It's only once a year. Even Smarty-Mart employees, including my husband who's the manager of the Middleton location, get the whole day of Christmas off."

"A poor excuse to pick a person's pocket every December 25th...but since no one's gonna work on that day, I'll give you that." Bonnie admitted.

But she warned her, "But I want your ass to be in your seat in your cubicle on the 26th at 8am sharp or you are going to be docked in pay."

"You won't be disappointed, Miss Rockwaller!" Emily exclaimed with that faint smile on her face.

"Now...get out of my sight!" Bonnie snarled.

Emily quickly went out of the conference room, escorted by two of Bonnie's security guards.

Bonnie ordered the closing of the gates to her mansion after Johnnie left, not wishing to be disturbed any further.