Yes, sir!

Spirit of Christmas Past:

[the Spirit of Christmas Past and Scrooge tarvel through time, arriving at the Amalgamated Mercantile Society]
And as your business prospered, Ebenezer Scrooge, a golden idol took possession of your heart... as Alice said it would. Mr. Groper:
May we hear those figures, Mr. Snedrig?... Uh, at your pleasure. Mr. Snedrig:
Certainly, Mr. Groper. Well, gentlemen, after 17 years of existence, the Amalgamated Mercantile Society's books show the startling figures of a liability of £3,200, eight shillings and ten pence, and a total asset of £11, eight shillings and ten pence. Mr. Jorkin:
Well, at least the ten pences cancel each other out. Mr. Rosehed:
How much of this is the company's capital? Mr. Snedrig:
All of it, Mr. Rosehed. Mr. Rosehed:
In short, sir, you're not only a bankrupt, you're an embezzler of the company's funds! Mr. Jorkin:
[Jorkin chuckles and speaks sarcastically]
I also beat my wife and skewer innocent babies when in my cups. Mr. Groper:
You take a very cool attitude if I may say so, sir. Mr. Jorkin:
Well, so do Mr. Scrooge and Mr. Marley. Mr. Groper:
They're not facing prosecution for a capital offense. Mr. Jorkin:
Oh, but gentlemen, it could have been any one of you. We're all cutthroats under this fancy linen, Mr. Snedrig. Mr. Snedrig:
I must ask you to speak for yourself, Mr. Jorkin! Mr. Jorkin:
And what would you gain if you prosecute me? All you'll get out of it is about eleven pounds, odd... and to pack me off to Botany Bay would be poor compensation for the panic that would arise among the shareholders! Mr. Groper:
Panic, sir? Mr. Jorkin:
Yes, panic! Would any of you gentlemen care to deny that if this juicy little scandal leaked out now, the annual shareholders' meeting would resemble an orchestra of scorched cats. Result? Bankruptcy all around. Mr. Groper:
Strike that speech out of the minutes! Bob Cratchit:
[from his clerk's desk]
Yes, sir!