Unknown Speaker (16:18)

If you could hear love, what would it sound like?

Unknown Speaker (16:29)

Son Kim, we talk about your drinking.

Unknown Speaker (16:33)

Yeah Dad, I think we should helping those closest to you think about their excessive drinking. Maybe that's what love sounds like. More at rethink the drink.com an OHA initiative.

Ryan Reynolds (16:49)

Hey, I'm Ryan Reynolds. Recently I asked Mint Mobile's legal team if big wireless companies are allowed to raise prices due to inflation. They said yes. And then when I asked if raising prices technically violates those onerous two year contracts, they said what the are you talking about? You insane Hollywood. So to recap, we're cutting the price of mint unlimited from $30 a month to just $15 a month. Give it a try@mintmobile.com Switch $45 upfront.

Unknown Speaker (17:14)

Payment equivalent to $15 per month. New customers on first three month plan only taxes and fees, extra Speed slower above 40 gigabytes. E details.

Unknown Speaker (17:20)

Oh my God. It's the coolest thing ever. Hey guys, have you heard of Goldbelly? Well, check this out. It's this amazing site where they ship the most I iconic famous foods from restaurants across the country anywhere nationwide. I've never found a more perfect gift than food. They ship Chicago deep dish pizza, New York bagels, Maine lobster rolls, and even Ina Garten's famous cakes. Seriously. So if you're looking for a gift for the food lover in your Life, head to goldbelly.com and get 20% off your first order with promo code Gift.

Unknown Speaker (17:53)

Scrooge took his melancholy dinner in his usual melancholy tavern and having read all the and beguiled the rest of the evening with his banker's book, went home to bed. He lived in chambers which had once belonged to his deceased partner. They were a gloomy suite of rooms in a lowering pile of building up a yard where it had so little business to be that one could scarcely help fancying it must have run there when it was a young house playing hide and seek with other houses and forgotten the way out again. It was old enough now and dreary enough, but nobody lived in it but Scrooge. The yard was so dark that even Scrooge, who knew its every stone, was fain to grope with his hands. The fog and frost so hung about the black old gateway of the house that it seemed as if the genius of the weather sat in mournful meditation on the Threshold. Now, it's a fact that there was nothing at all particular about the knocker on the door, except that it was very large. It's also a fact that Scrooge had seen it night and morning during his whole residency in that place. Let it also be born in mind that Scrooge had not bestowed one thought on Marley since his last mention of his seven years dead partner that afternoon. And then let any man explain to me, if he can, how it happened that Scrooge, having his key in the lock of the door, saw in the knocker, without its undergoing any intermediate process of change, not a knocker, but Marley's face. It was not an impenetrable shadow, as the other objects in the yard were, but had a dismal light about it. It was not angry or ferocious, but looked at Scrooge as Marley used to look, with ghostly spectacles turned up on its ghostly forehead. The hair was curiously stirred, as if by breath or hot air, and though the eyes were wide open, they were perfectly motionless. That and its livid color made it horrible. As Scrooge looked fixedly at this phenomenon, it was a knocker again. To say that he was not startled or that his blood was not conscious of a terrible sensation would be untrue. But he put his hand upon the key he had relinquished, turned it sturdily, walked in and lighted his candle. He did pause with a moment's irresolution before he shut the door. And he did look cautiously behind at first, as if he half expected to be terrified with the sight of Marley's pigtail sticking out into the hall. But there was nothing on the back of the door except the screws and nuts that held the knocker on. So he said, poo, poo, and closed it with a bang. The sound resounded through the house like thunder. But Scrooge was not a man to be frightened by echoes. He fastened the door and walked across the hall and up the stairs slowly, too, trimming his candle as he went. Darkness is cheap, and Scrooge liked it. But he walked through his rooms to see that all was right. He had just enough recollection of the face to desire to do that. Sitting room, bedroom, lumber room, all as they should be. Nobody under the table, nobody under the sofa, a small fire in the grate, spoon and basin ready, and the little saucepan of gruel upon the stove. Nobody under the bed, nobody in the closet, nobody in his dressing gown, which was hanging up in a suspicious attitude against the wall. Quite satisfied, he closed his door and locked himself in double locked himself in, which was not his custom. Thus secured against surprise, he took off his cravat, put on his dressing gown and slippers and his nightcap, and sat down before the fire to take his gruel. It was a very low fire indeed. Nothing on such a bitter night. He was obliged to sit close to it and brood over it before he could extract the least sensation of warmth from such a handful of fuel. The fireplace was an old one, built by some Dutch merchant long ago and paved all the way around with quaint Dutch tiles designed to illustrate the Scriptures. There were Cain's and Abel's and Pharaoh's daughters, Queens of Sheba. Hundreds of figures to attract his thoughts. And yet that face of Marley, seven years dead, came like the ancient prophet's rod and swallowed up the whole. Humbug, said Scrooge, and walked across the room. After several turns he sat down again. As he threw his head back in the chair, his glance happened to rest upon a bell, a disused bell that hung in the room. It was with great astonishment now, and with a strange, inexplicable dread, that as he looked, he saw this bell begin to swing. It swung so softly in the outset that it scarcely made a sound, but soon it rang out loudly, and so did every bell in the house. This might have lasted half a minute or a minute, but it seemed an hour. The bells ceased as they had begun together. They were succeeded by a clanking noise deep down below, as if some person were dragging a heavy chain. The cellar door flew open with a booming sound, and then he heard the noise, much louder on the floors below, then coming up the stairs, then coming straight toward his door. It's humbug still, said Scrooge. I won't believe his color changed, though when without a pause, it came on through the heavy door and passed into the room before his eyes. Upon its coming in, the dying flame leaped up as though it cried, I know him. Marley's ghost fell again. The same face, the very same Marley, in his pigtail waistcoat, tights and boots. The chain he drew was clasped about his middle. It was long and wound about him like a tail, and it was made, for Scrooge observed it closely, of cash, boxes, keys, padlocks, ledgers, deeds, and heavy purses wrought in steel. His body was transparent, so that Scrooge, observing him and looking through his waistcoat, could see the two buttons on his coat behind. Though he looked the phantom through and through and saw it standing before him, though he felt the chilling influence of its death. Cold eyes, he was still incredulous and fought against his senses. How now? Said Scrooge, caustic and cold as ever. What do you want with me? Much. Marley's voice. No doubt about it. Who are you? Ask me who I was. Who were you then? Said Scrooge, raising his voice. In life, I was your partner, Jacob Marley. When work gets crazy, I like to stop by the bar after, have a few cold ones. I don't drink at all until 4:00.

Ryan Reynolds (26:47)

We limit ourselves to one bottle of wine a night.

Unknown Speaker (26:51)

Excessive drinking has a way of sneaking up on us. A few drinks, a few nights a week, it can add up. And suddenly we're at greater risk for long term problems like heart disease, cancer and depression. Reason enough to rethink the Drink more@rethinkthedrink.com.

Unknown Speaker (27:07)

Noha Initiative oh my God, it's the coolest thing ever. Hey guys, have you heard of Gold Belly? Well, check this out. It's this amazing site where they ship the most iconic famous foods from restaurants across the country, anywhere nationwide. I've never found a more perfect gift than food. They ship Chicago deep dish pizza, New York bagels, Maine lobster rolls, and even Ina Garten's famous cakes. Seriously. So if you're looking for a gift for the food lover in your Life, head to goldbelly.com and get 20% off your first order with promo code gift.

Ryan Reynolds (27:41)

Ryan Reynolds here from Mint Mobile. With the price of just about everything going up during inflation, we thought we'd bring our prices down. So to help us, we brought in a reverse auctioneer, which is apparently a.

Unknown Speaker (27:51)

Thing Mint Mobile Unlimited Premium wireless. Everybody get 30? 30. Better get 30. Better get 20, 20. 20. Better get 20, 20. Everybody get 15? 15. 15.

Unknown Speaker (27:59)

15.

Unknown Speaker (27:59)

Just 15 bucks a month.

Unknown Speaker (28:00)

Sold.

Ryan Reynolds (28:01)

Give it a try@mintmobile.com Switch $45 upfront.

Unknown Speaker (28:05)

Payment equivalent to $15 per month. New customers on first three month plan only taxes and fees, extra Speed slower above 40 gigabytes. Detail.

Unknown Speaker (28:16)

Christmas Eve and Ebenezer Scrooge is face to face with a ghost of his old partner, Jacob Marley. The ghost is weighed down with the paraphernalia of their greedy money lending business. Old ledgers and money boxes, padlocks and keys. In life, Marley had been every bit as cheap and nasty as Scrooge. What could he want now? In death, our story continues. Could you sit down? Asked Scrooge, looking doubtfully at him. I can do it. Then Scrooge asked the question because he didn't know whether a ghost so transparent might find himself in a condition to take a chair, and felt that in the event of its being impossible, it might involve the necessity of an embarrassing explanation. But the ghost sat down on the opposite side of the fireplace as if he was quite used to it. You don't believe in me, observed the ghost. I don't, said Scrooge. What evidence would you have of my reality beyond that of your senses? I don't know, said Scrooge. Why do you doubt your senses? Because, said Scrooge, a little thing affects them. A slight disorder of the stomach makes them cheat. You may be an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of an underdone potato. There's more of gravy than of grave about you, whatever you are. Scrooge was not much in the habit of cracking jokes, nor did he feel in his heart by any means waggish. Then the truth is that he tried to be smart, as a means of distracting his own attention and keeping down his terror. The ghost's voice disturbed the very marrow of his bones. To sit staring at those fixed glazed eyes in silence for a moment would play. Scrooge felt the very deuce with him. There was something very awful, too, in the specter's being provided with an infernal atmosphere of its own. Scrooge could not feel it himself, but this was clearly the case. For though the ghost sat perfectly motionless, its hair and skirts and tassels were all still agitated, as if by the hot vapor from an oven. Do you see this toothpick? Said Scrooge, returning quickly to the charge for the reason just assigned, and wishing, though it were only for a second to divert the vision's stony gaze from himself. I do, replied the ghost. You're not looking at it, said Scrooge. But I see it, said the ghost, notwithstanding. Well, returned Scrooge, I have to but swallow this and be for the rest of my days persecuted by a legion of goblins all of my own creation. Humbug, I tell you. Humbug. The spirit raised a frightful cry and shook its chain with such a dismal and appalling noise that Scrooge held on tight to his chair to save himself from falling in a swoon. But how much greater was his horror when the phantom, taking off the bandage round its head, as if it were too warm to wear indoors, its lower jaw dropped down upon its breast. Scrooge fell upon his knees and clasped his hands before his face. Mercy, he said. Dreadful apparition, why do you trouble me, man? Of the worldly mind, replied the ghost. Do you believe in me or not? I do, said Scrooge. I must. But why do spirits walk the earth, and why do they come to me? It is required of every man, the ghost returned, that the spirit within him should walk abroad among his fellow men and travel far and wide. And if that spirit does not go forth in life, it is condemned to do so after death. It is doomed to wander through the world. Oh, woe is me. And witness what it cannot share, but might have shared on earth. And turned to happiness again. The spectre raised a cry and shook its chain and wrung its shadowy hands. You are fettered, said Scrooge, chumbling. Tell me why. I wear the chain I forged in life, replied the ghost. I made it link by link and yard by yard. I girded it on of my own free will. And of my own free will I wore it. Is its pattern strange to you? Scrooge trembled more and more. Or would you know, pursued the ghost, the weight and length of the strong coil you bear yourself. It was full, as heavy and as long as this seven Christmas Eves ago. You've labored on it since. It's a ponderous chain. Scrooge glanced about him on the floor in the expectation of finding himself surrounded by some 50 or 60 fathoms of iron cable. But he could see nothing. Jacob, he said imploringly. Oh, Jacob Marley, tell me more. Speak comfort to me, Jacob. I have none to give, the ghost replied. I cannot rest. I cannot stay. I cannot linger anywhere. My spirit never walked beyond our counting house. Bark me in my life. My spirit never roved beyond the narrow limits of our money changing hole. And weary journeys lie before me. It was a habit with Scrooge, whenever he became thoughtful to put his hands in his pants pockets, wondering on what the ghost had said. He did so now, but without lifting up his eyes or getting off his knees. You must have been very slow about it, Jacob, Scrooge observed in a businesslike manner, though with humility and deference. Slow, the ghost repeated. Seven years dead, you, Scrooge, and traveling all the time. The whole time, said the ghost. No rest, no peace? Incessant torture of remorse. Oh, captive bound and double ironed. Cried the phantom. No space of regret can make amends for one's life's opportunity. Misused. Yet such was I. Oh, such was I. But you were always a good man of business, Jacob. Faltered Scrooge, who now began to apply this to himself. Business. Cried the ghost, wringing his hands again. Mankind was My business. The common welfare was my business. Charity, mercy, forbearance, and benevolence were all, all my business. The dealings of my trade were but a drop of water in the comprehensive ocean of my business. It held up its chain at arm's length, as if that for the cause of all its unavailing grief, and flung it heavily upon the ground again. At this time of the rolling year, the ghost said, I suffer most. Why did I walk through crowds of fellow beings with my eyes turned down and never raised them to that blessed star which led the wise men to a poor abode? Were there no poor homes to which its light would have conducted me? Scrooge was very much dismayed to hear the spectre going on at this rate, and began to quake exceedingly. Hear me. Cried the ghost. My time is nearly gone. I will, said Scrooge, but don't be hard upon me. Don't be flowery, Jacob, pray. How is it that I appear before you in a shape you can see? I may not tell. I have sat invisible beside you many and many a day. It was not an agreeable idea. Scrooge shivered and wiped the perspiration from his brow. I am here tonight to warn you that you have yet a chance and hope of escaping my fate. A chance and hope of my procuring, Ebenezer. You were always a good friend to me, said Scrooge. Thank you. You will be haunted, resumed the ghost, by three spirits. Scrooge's countenance fell almost as low as the ghost's had done. Is that the chance and hope you mentioned, Jacob? He demanded in a faltering voice. It is. I think I'd rather not, said Scrooge. Without their visit, said the ghost, you cannot hope to shun the path I tread. Expect the first tomorrow when the bell tolls 1. Couldn't I take em all at once and have it over, Jacob? It did, Scrooge. Expect the second on the next night at the same hour, the third upon the next night, when the last stroke of 12 has ceased to vibrate, look to see me no more. And look that for your own sake you remember what has passed between us. When it had said these words, the specter took its wrapper from the table and bound it round its head as before. Scrooge knew this by the smart sound its teeth made when the jaws were brought together by the bandage. He ventured to raise his eyes again and found his supernatural visitor confronting him in an erect attitude with its chain wound over and about its arm. The apparition walked backward from him, and at every step it took, the window raised itself a little, so that when the ghost reached it, it was wide open. It beckoned Scrooge to approach, which he did. When they were within two paces of each other, Marley's ghost held up its hand, warning him to come no nearer. Scrooge stopped, not so much in obedience as in surprise and fear, for on the raising of the hand he became sensible of confused noises in the air. Incoherent sound, sounds of lamentation and regret, wailings inexpressibly sorrowful and self accusatory. The spectre, after listening for a moment, joined in the mournful dirge and floated out upon the bleak dark night. Scrooge followed to the window. Desperate in his curiosity, he looked out. The air was filled with phantoms, wandering hither and thither, and restless haste and moaning as they went. Every one of them wore chains like Marley's ghost. Some few they might be guilty. Governments were linked together. None were free. Many had been personally known to Scrooge in their lives. He had been quite familiar with one old ghost in a white waistcoat with a monstrous iron safe attached to his ankle, who cried piteously at being unable to assist a wretched woman with an infant, whom it saw below upon a doorstep. The misery with them all was clearly that they sought to interfere for good in human matters and had lost the power forever. Whether these creatures faded into mist or mist enshrouded them he could not tell. But they and their spirit voices faded together and the night became as it had been when he walked home. Scrooge closed the window and examined the door by which the ghost had entered. It was double locked, as he had locked it with his own hands, and the bolts were undisturbed. He tried to say a bug, but stopped at the first syllable. And being from the emotion he had undergone, or the fatigues of the day, or his glimpse of the invisible world, or the dull conversation of the ghost, or the lateness of the hour much in need of repose, he went straight to bed without undressing, and fell asleep upon the instant. Exhausted by his ghostly encounter, Scrooge has collapsed into bed. He'll need his rest, because the most stubbornly mean man in all of London is about to take a journey to a terrible place his own life. When work gets crazy, I like to stop by the bar after, have a few cold ones. I don't drink at all until 4:00.

Ryan Reynolds (42:39)

We limit ourselves to one bottle of wine a night.

Unknown Speaker (42:42)

Excessive drinking has a way of sneaking up on us. A few drinks, a few nights a week. It can add up and suddenly we're at greater risk for long term problems like heart disease, cancer and depression. Reason enough to rethink the Drink more@rethinkthedrink.com no HA initiative.