one of the things i love about ebenezer scrooge, and a christmas carol in general, is that, unlike most fictional rich people, scrooge doesn't allow himself the luxuries that he denies to others.
like. he is enormously wealthy, but does he spend his money on good food and nice things and indulgences? no. he keeps his house dark because it's cheaper to not light things, he eats gruel, he barely even makes a big enough fire to heat himself, let alone the room. he scrimps and pinches pennies everywhere he can - including in areas that other people would consider "necessities" rather than "luxuries."
the story of a christmas carol is as much about ebenezer scrooge coming to realize that his misanthropy and miserliness is making himself as miserable as it's making everyone around him, and learning to once again take joy in living in a way he hasn't allowed himself since he was a boy.
it's genuinely cruel to ebenezer scrooge to compare him to assholes like elon musk and jeff bezos.
for all that he is a terrible, terrible person, at least scrooge isn't a damn hypocrite.
Why don't I hear more about undead beings coming back to warn people? It's always zombies wanting to drag people down to join them in the grave, ghosts seeking vengeance, spirits trying to chase people out of their domains - but if you died horribly and were left rattling around some spooky mansion for eternity, wouldn't you want to stop people from blundering into the same death you had?
You feel a cold breath on your neck as you get in the car. It won't leave until you fasten your seatbelt. An unseen force catches your foot as you pass the fourth step every time you walk up the stairs. During a renovation, you find out the wood is rotten. You can never find a pack of cigarettes - even ones guests bring disappear from their pockets and are found weeks later on the lawn, empty. Your daughter is giggling and laughing at something unseen, chasing after it away from the cliffside on your family hike. You don't know why, but you feel compelled to leave a spare hairband and some stickers on a picnic table as you leave the park. Tribute? A thank you? The items are gone by next time you visit, and you swear a happy child's hum follows you home on the breeze.
...More preventative hauntings. It just makes sense.