, a director of EMC Management Consultants, based in Maidstone, offers a sales take on the Charles Dickens favourite A Christmas Carol.

ARTHUR SCROOGE sat counting the takings of AS Products Ltd. The piles of money seemed smaller than before, as he put a red line through his marketing budget.

"Bah, humbug," he said. "I’ll cut some more unnecessary customer costs, and buy my yacht in Malaga."

Suddenly the door to his room opened with a loud creak, and there stood his long-dead sales director, Bob Marley.

"Arthur Scrooge," rapped Marley. "You have been a poor managing director since I died.

"During this night you will be haunted by three management consultants. Without their visits your future is damned," and he faded into the mist, like a wraith.

Scrooge tried to say Humbug, but his voice was strangely muffled, and he slowly fell into slumber. Suddenly a light filled the room and a dark figure appeared.

"I am the consultant of Christmas Past, come with me," it intoned.

Scrooge’s bedroom faded to a busy office, with excited staff talking to customers, and orders coming in by the dozen.

Mr Fizziwig, the MD, was saying: "Come on young Scrooge, let’s really care for our customers, suppliers, staff and investors. Our relationships with them has allowed us to pay a handsome Christmas bonus this year."

As quickly as the scene appeared, it faded, and Scrooge was back in his bedroom. As if no time had passed, the clanking of chains roused Scrooge.

"I am the consultant of Christmas present," said the spirit, predictably, and immediately they were peering in through the front window of a tiny house which belonged to Bob Scratchit, Scrooge’s sales executive.

"No commission cheque this month, children, Mr Scrooge has upset our customers by reducing the quality of service and as the only salesperson, I am expecting redundancy any time now."

Tiny Tom, Bob’s youngest son, who was crippled by carrying letters of customer complaint, said: "Never mind Father, God bless Mr Scrooge, anyway."

Wearily Scrooge lifted his head off the pillow to see the now-expected third hazy figure, and the room dissolved into a dark and gloomy graveyard.

Scrooge looked at the gravestones and saw the familiar names of once-famous firms now laid to rest.

Among them was his own company AS Products, with the epitaph: "Here lies another failed British company, killed by neglecting customers and failing to find new business."

Screaming, Arthur fell into the grave of his own digging. With a start Scrooge woke up and rubbed his eyes.

"It was a dream," he exclaimed. He threw open the windows and shouted: "Hey boy, book me an exhibition stand, the biggest one you can find, and tell Bob Scratchit to get a mailshot out."

He hastily dressed and ran to Scratchit’s house.

"Bob," he shouted. "You can have a new company Mondeo, and I’ll increase your commission to 10 per cent of gross margin."

And lifting Tiny Tom to his shoulders he shouted: "I’ll never neglect sales and marketing again. Merry Christmas everyone."