> ## Content Index > Fetch the complete content index at: https://www.smdp.com/llms.txt > Use this file to discover other available public pages before exploring further. # The town Screwge - URL: https://www.smdp.com/the-town-screwge/ - Published: 2006-12-22T16:00:00.000Z - Updated: 2026-10-25T01:31:39.000Z - Author: Guest Author - Tags: Opinion, Montana, #archive-import *By MATTERS BY JACK NEWORTH* Few people knew Douglas E. Screwge, Santa Monica’s biggest landlord, was the great-great-great-grandson of Ebeneezer Scrooge. Screwge owned a prosperous real estate office on Montana Avenue, but even though the fates of finance had smiled so radiantly upon him, his icy personality never thawed (Unless one of his rent-controlled apartments became vacant and went to fair market price.) So it was not surprising when he was invited by his nephew for Christmas dinner, Screwge barked, “Bah humbug, who needs the cholesterol?” That night, let any man explain how Screwge, having his key in the security alarm of his North of San Vicente estate, saw not the alarm, but the face of his deceased partner, Marley, whom he had often “screwged.” “Hey, Marley, baby,” Screwge said nervously.“How about I have the girl FedEx you a check in the morning?” The Ghost responded solemnly, “Tomorrow you will be haunted by a spirit when the bell tolls one.” “My clocks don’t toll,” Screwge stammered, “they’re digital.” But alas, the Ghost was gone. The following day, Screwge was pacing in front of his flat screen hi-def TV. The Cowboys weren’t covering the spread and Screwge blamed it on Tony Romo’s dating Jessica Simpson. The Ghost of Christmas Past appeared and suddenly the TV went off with a mere snap of his fingers. “Hey, it’s the fourth quarter!” Screwge complained. But the Ghost didn’t respond, for in the blink of an eye the two were in the neighborhood of Screwge’s childhood in Ocean Park. But instead of it being 2006, it was 1949\. A wave of nostalgia came over Screwge, but it lasted only moments, for he was suddenly pained by For Sale signs on cottages that would 40 years later become million dollar Sea Colony condos. “If only I had bought the whole damn block” Screwge muttered ruefully. Later than night, Screwge was watching the Money Channel when it was again mysteriously turned off. “Okay, what’s the trick?” Screwge barked at the Ghost of Christmas Present. But instead of an answer, the two were whisked silently inside one of Screwge’s rent-controlled apartments off Pico, the home of his clerk Bob Ratchet. Despite a leaky roof and a broken window, the family was gathered around the festive dinner table. When talk turned to Screwge, Tiny, the lead rapper in “Maimed Mayhem,” glanced at the roof. “Word, I oughta whack that dawg upside his head with my crutch.” But Ratchet said,“On Christmas, we wish well to all in this world, even Screwge.” And toast they did, but only after Tiny called Bob a “Tom.” At dawn on Christmas morning, Screwge arose from slumber to see the third spirit, who was black and shrouded in a dark garment. “My wallet’s on the dresser,” Screwge said trembling.“Fool, I ain’t here to jack you, I’m the Ghost of Christmas Future!” Suddenly, Screwge found himself at the Woodlawn Cemetery on 14th Street. Horrified, he saw the half crumbled marker of Douglas E. Screwge with the epitaph: “What good does his money do him now?” Screwge pleaded with the Ghost,“Is there any wiggle room in all of this? Hey, I’ve got a condo in the Marina I snapped up in foreclosure. It’s yours! Wha’ddya say, pal?” To the foreboding silence, Screwge began to quiver. “All right, I will honor Christmas in my heart. I’ll stand in lines at the mall. I’ll go to boring parties and make pointless chit chat, but please, please assure me I yet may change these shadows.” But the Ghost was gone and Screwge was back in his bed. Screwge scrambled to the window and shouted to the pool boy at the house next door: “What’s today, my fine fellow?” “Are you high, Pops? It’s Christmas.” “Then it’s not too late!” Screwge proclaimed gleefully while the confused boy just shook his head. And so it came to pass that Screwge did all he promised and more. To Tiny Slim and “Maimed Mayhem,” he became a second father, and tour promoter, taking 15 percent off the top. To Ratchet, Screwge became the model employer, giving him a raise to a farthing above minimum wage (whatever a farthing is these days). And Screwge finally fixed the leaky roof and broken window. And he painted inside and out and put in new carpet, for all of which he didn’t seek a rent increase, though the thought did cross his mind. And to his neighbors, Screwge stopped being a greedy, sourpuss and was so nice, frankly, it was a bit nauseating. And so in time it was said of Screwge, by one and all, that he knew how to keep Christmas well. And he didn’t do a bad job with Hanukkah either. *Originally published in the Santa Monica Daily Press print edition on December 22, 2006.* [Read the original PDF.](https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/smdp%5Fbackissues/122206.pdf?ref=smdp.com)